Stellar Echo: Heart of the Myst-Chapter 127: VOL 2 : Meet my sister.

"If that's what you want. Tell me where you live so I can drop you off there; I'll come back to pick you up in a couple of days."

"If it's not too much trouble, Boss, I'd appreciate it, though I must warn you that it's not a very pleasant place to see." Sofía thanked him, looking a bit uncomfortable, to which Erik replied with a mocking smile as he conjured a new Myst platform beneath them.

"Even if it doesn't look like it, I grew up on the streets of a planet far more backward than this one, so I don't think there's much that could surprise me, hehe."

Hearing her new boss's words, Sofía couldn't help but look at him with eyes wide open, completely incredulous, an expression very similar to Martín's. After all, they couldn't wrap their heads around how someone so handsome, elegant, and striking could have ever gone through such a precarious situation like the one they had lived. Inevitably, Sofía asked with uncertainty.

"Are you being serious, Boss?"

"Very serious. When I was a child, they kicked me out of the orphanage where I lived, so I had no choice but to sleep on the streets and eat whatever I could find. There was even a time when I worked doing something similar to what you do." Erik commented in a calm and somewhat nostalgic tone, getting lost in the memories of both his lives, which led Sofía to respond in a tone filled with disbelief.

"I can't believe it..."

"But it's the truth. If it wasn't for my mast... Sigrún here by my side, who knows where I'd be now."

After Erik corrected himself mid-sentence due to a wild strangling of his innocent hand, Sigrún smiled proudly and let her head fall once again on Erik's shoulder, while Sofía and Martín watched them in shock. At that moment, the beautiful blue-eyed girl spoke in an almost dreamy tone.

"He truly was blessed with good wives, Boss..."

Upon hearing his new assistant's words, Erik wanted to correct that slight misunderstanding, but two more wild hand-stranglings left him silent, lamenting the poor fate of his innocent hands, which he was absolutely sure had suffered some micro-fractures—courtesy of his beloved masters, who were now leaning on his shoulders intimately, wearing beautiful smiles on their faces.

"Fufu, it was only destiny that allowed us to meet, so I think we are all fortunate." Eleonora commented calmly, then turned her head slightly to look at Sigrún and asked with a smile.

"Isn't that right, Sig?"

"You're absolutely correct, Eli. It was destiny that guided us to meet."

Sigrún nodded and responded confidently, while at the same time beginning to massage the hand of her beloved disciple—something Eleonora was also doing. After all, they felt a bit guilty about squeezing him so hard, but in any case, it was Erik's fault for being so dense and failing to read the atmosphere.

...

Following Sofía's directions, it didn't take Erik long to reach a house worn down by time. At that moment, he turned to look at the siblings to say goodbye one last time, but then Sofía spoke with a bit of doubt and embarrassment.

"Boss?"

"Yes?" Erik asked curiously, wondering what the girl wanted. She quickly steeled herself and spoke in a serious tone.

"I know the Boss is a busy person with many tasks to do, but if it's not too much trouble, I'd like you to meet my sister. She'd be very happy to meet you, and thank you for helping us."

"Mmm..." Erik thought about it for a moment, finding nothing wrong with them, and then turned to look at his masters and Seraphina and asked.

"What do you think?"

"Sounds good to me, let's go." Sigrún replied with a smile, and Eleonora nodded in agreement, while Seraphina simply smiled without saying anything. Erik was already used to her quirks and knew that this expression meant she didn't mind.

"All right, then let's go. It'll be interesting to meet your sister."

...

...

...

Ever since Sofía's departure, Clara's heart had been pounding harder than ever before in her life, keeping her on the edge of her chair, terrified of what might happen. Would Martín come back? Was Sofía okay? An endless string of such questions raced through her mind, filling her with anxiety that made her want to run out the door, and an infinite sadness and powerlessness at being unable to do so.

But what hurt Clara the most was that, even though everything was her fault—falling ill and ruining her siblings' lives—she still had to stay home, unable to do anything while her younger brother's condition was unknown and her sister risked her life to find him, venturing out so late at night in such a dangerous neighborhood.

As the minutes passed in complete silence, only interrupted by the ticking of the clock on the wall, the most fatalistic thoughts consumed Clara's mind, a result of her overwhelming guilt. She wanted to end her miserable existence, which only served to harm the only family she had left, dragging them down like an unbearable burden that kept them from moving forward.

Yet at the same time, Clara also felt fear—fear of never seeing her family again, fear of hurting them by leaving them alone, fear of never being able to repay the great debt she owed her siblings, who sacrificed themselves every day to keep her alive and seek a cure for her illness, fear of breaking the promise she had made to her mother to take care of her siblings.

This swirl of emotions caused Clara's tears to flow non-stop from the moment Sofía left, only worsening her already fragile health, turning her lips a deep purple and giving her skin a sickly greenish hue that marred her once-exquisite beauty.

Time went on, and Clara remained in her chair, crying, blaming herself, despising herself for bringing yet another tragedy upon her family. But if there was one thing Clara hated more than herself, it was undoubtedly the god her mother had made her pray to every night when she was little.

Clara's mother had been a religious woman, utterly convinced that there was something greater in the universe that benevolently guided events, judged the wicked, and rewarded the kind—a belief she tried to instill in her children, especially Clara, with whom she prayed every night pleading for a cure to her illness. But that cure never came.

God never listened to Clara nor her mother, who had spent their lives striving to be kind and help those around them. He ignored them as if they were garbage and never granted even one of their prayers. Over time, this led Clara to feel a deep hatred for that omnipotent and omniscient being who had only ever punished her family with one tragedy after another.

Meanwhile, the very people who should have been punished grew richer each day, lived more comfortably, and far longer than Clara and her family could ever hope to.

But even so, although Clara could no longer feel anything but hatred for that omnipotent figure. She still prayed every night, asking forgiveness for her hatred and begging for a cure for her body so she could work again, so she could help her siblings, so she could stop being a burden. Yet, that god never listened. Instead, he sent an even greater tragedy upon her family.

With each minute that passed, Clara felt part of her heart dying. Knowing that this omnipotent being would never do anything to help her family—perhaps even enjoyed watching them suffer—her hopes began to wither away, minute by minute, plunging her into an endless abyss of despair and loneliness.

The constant worry, fear, and guilt that kept Clara's weak body in a state of high alert seemed to tear away what little energy she had left, making her body heavier and gradually snuffing out her consciousness. At last, she collapsed from her chair onto the hard floor.

Yet even in that condition, summoning the last bit of strength she had, Clara turned her head and kept her eyes locked on the door, losing consciousness with her eyes open. Almost as an act of rebellion against the world and especially against that omnipotent being she so despised, declaring that no matter what happened—even if this was her last breath—she would see her siblings walk through that door.

...

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""CLARA!!""

Upon opening the door to their ramshackle house, anxious and excited to share the good news with their sister, the first thing Sofía and Martín saw was Clara lying on the floor in an almost ghostly state. Her skin a sickly greenish color, her lips purple, and traces of blood on the ground. Coupled with her eyes—open yet nearly devoid of life, staring straight at the door—the scene was so grim that it filled Sofía and Martín's minds with terror, causing them to scream at the top of their lungs.

Panicked, Sofía and Martín ran inside, knocking aside anything in their path, and reached Clara, who was terrifyingly cold and unresponsive—something that all but confirmed the dire premonition in the siblings' hearts. In tears, Sofía shook Clara vehemently while shouting.

"CLARA!! ANSWER ME, CLARA!! Please, don't do this to me! We're about to leave this place; we'll be able to go to the Arcane Order, have a better life, have everything we've dreamed of... Please, don't leave me alone now, I need you... please... Clara..."

While tears and despair overtook the siblings, Sigrún—who had entered the humble home with Erik and Eleonora—looked at the young woman on the floor with interest, at the same time extending a hand to stop Erik, who was about to check on his new assistant's sister. Then, in a low voice, she asked.

"Erik, what affinities do you sense in the girl?"

Because his master had asked, Erik quickly halted and focused on the Myst around the young woman. Even though helping his new assistant's sister was an important thing to do as her boss, it was more important to answer his master's question.

"Mmmm... It's a mix of water, earth, and light. I'd say it's... wait!"

Realizing the proportions of the reactions, Erik immediately deduced the affinity, and he looked at Sigrún in surprise. She smiled conspiratorially, then vanished and reappeared next to the young woman on the floor. She waved her hand casually, causing the young woman to float into the air.

Clara's sudden movement interrupted Sofía's attempt to give her a healing pill with trembling hands, while it seemed to snap Martín out of his trance as he clutched Clara's hand in shock, almost as if he were questioning reality. That was when Sigrún's voice rang in the siblings' ears, calm and almost casual—a stark contrast to their dramatic state of mind.

"Don't waste your time giving her a healing pill. You won't accomplish anything that way."

***

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