Chapter Text
"Dominique! What are you doing here!?" The voice was faint, a mere echo in the vast emptiness that surrounded her.
Dominique blinked, the world swimming into focus around her. She lay on a cold, stone floor, her body stiff and her mind a foggy haze. She pushed herself up onto her elbows, the weight of the world seeming to press down on her shoulders.
Above her, the shadowy figure of a woman took shape, the light from the stained glass windows casting an eerie glow. She had the same short black hair and piercing eyes that haunted Dominique's dreams. But her expression was not one of anger or contempt. It was... concerned?
Dominique's thoughts swirled like leaves caught in a tornado, her mind grasping for any semblance of the past. She knew this woman, but the specifics remained elusive, slipping away like sand through her fingers. The anger she felt was palpable, a living entity in the air, but the reasons behind it were lost to her.
The woman, took a step forward, her eyes never leaving Dominique's face.
"You're alive," she murmured, then hers eyes narrow in coldness, as she cautiously places her hand on the sword she carries.
Confusing images began to form in the blonde woman's mind, a whirlwind of faces and places that she should recognize, but they remained just out of reach. A castle, a moonlit battle, an great demon these were the fragments that danced on the edge of her consciousness, but as soon as she tried to grasp them, they dissipated into nothingness. The anger was a constant, a pulse beating in her veins, but the reasons behind it were as elusive as the shadows that played on the cathedral walls.
Her eyes searched this woman face, desperately trying to piece together the puzzle of their shared history.
"Who... who are you?" she croaked, her voice weak from disuse. The name "Miriam" hung in her mind, familiar yet foreign, a taste of something bitter on her tongue.
The woman expression remained guarded, the sword at her side a stark reminder of the animosity between them.
"I am Miriam," she said firmly, "and you are Dominique, the exorcist who betrayed the church."
The name Miriam resonated within her, and with it came a flood of emotions: anger, fear, and a strange sense of longing. Dominique's hand flew to her chest, feeling the sudden absence of the crucifix that had once been her most treasured possession.
But before she could react, Miriam had closed the distance between them, the cold steel of her sword pressing against Dominique's neck. The blonde woman's heart raced, her breaths shallow and erratic. She could feel the pulse in her throat beating against the blade, a thunderous drumming that drowned out the distant echoes of their shared past.
"How did you survive?" Miriam demanded, her voice low and filled with venom.
Dominique's eyes widened in terror, her hand trembling as it hovered over the sword at her throat. "I-I don't know," she stuttered, "I just woke up here. I don't remember anything else."
Miriam's grip tightened, the sword digging slightly into her skin. "Don't lie to me," she hissed. "You've always been the clever one, playing both sides. But your games end here."
Dominique's eyes searched Miriam's, desperation welling up inside her. The weight of the sword was the only tangible thing she had to hold onto in this sea of confusion. "I'm not lying," she pleaded, her voice shaking. "I swear, I don't remember."
Miriam's gaze bore into hers, looking for any sign of deceit. But she keeps the tip of the sword pressed against the woman's neck.
"Even if what you say is true, your existence is a very big risk," she said coldly. The words hung in the air like shards of ice, cutting through the fog of Dominique's amnesia. "You brought this upon yourself, Dominique."
But as she stared into the blonde's eyes, she saw something that she had not anticipated. Tears welled up and spilled over, rolling down Dominique's cheeks in silent streams. The traitor, the one who made her lose Gebel and Alfred, the one who wanted to use the power of demons to be god and invoked Bael, the demon who could have destroyed the world, was now a broken and lost soul, and for a moment, Miriam felt a flicker of something she hadn't felt in a long time: pity.
Her grip on the sword wavered for a second, the sharp point of the blade no longer pressing into Dominique's skin. She had seen the woman manipulate and deceive before, but this display of vulnerability was something new, something she couldn't ignore.
Dominique felt the change in pressure, the tip of the sword lowering slightly. Her eyes remained locked on Miriam's, the terror slowly morphing into a mix of hope and despair.
"Please," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I don't know what happened, but I swear I'm not the same person I was."
Miriam's eyes searched Dominique's, looking for any sign of the cunning deceit she had come to expect. But all she saw was genuine fear and confusion. She had killed countless demons, but she had never felt so conflicted about ending the life of a human. The sword grew heavier in her hand, the weight of her decision pressing down on her.
"Your amnesia is no excuse," Miriam said, her voice devoid of any warmth. "You've caused enough pain. If you remember who you are, you'll remember what you've done."
Dominique felt a deep ache in her chest as she took in Miriam's words. She knew she was in danger, and she knew she had wronged this woman in some way, but she couldn't remember. The emptiness inside her was vast and terrifying.
"Please," she repeated, her voice barely a whisper. "If you know something about me, tell me. Help me understand."
Miriam's expression softened, the anger in her eyes fading into something more complex. She sheathed her sword, her hand lingering on the hilt as if unsure of what to do next. "You really don't remember?"
Dominique shook her head, the tears now flowing freely down her cheeks. "I don't. All I know is that I'm scared and I need help."
Miriam sighed heavily, her eyes never leaving Dominique's. "You should be," she said, her voice devoid of any emotion. "You've made enemies in places you can't even begin to imagine."
The words hit Dominique like a sledgehammer, the gravity of her situation sinking in. She felt the cold stone against her back, the chill seeping into her bones. If Miriam didn't kill her now, then who would? Who else knew her dark secrets?
Miriam took a step back, her hand still hovering near her sword. "Your betrayal led to the deaths of many," she said, her voice flat and unwavering. "But your sudden amnesia complicates things. I can't just execute an empty shell."
Dominique nodded, her eyes never leaving Miriam's. "I know I've done something terrible," she said, her voice shaking. "But I can't change the past. Can you at least tell me what happened?"
Miriam's expression grew distant as she recounted the events that had led to their current predicament. "We were sent to purge the demons from the castle," she began. "You were my ally, my friend. But you had been hiding your true intentions all along. After the demon invasion that took your parents, you lost faith in the Church and in God. You believed that by aligning with the demons, you could gain power to prevent such tragedies from happening again. You claimed that the Church was weak and that their ways were flawed, but in the end you ended up doing all this simply for the power, not caring if other people died if it would help you get what you wanted."
Dominique listened, her heart racing as the words painted a picture of a woman she didn't recognize. A traitor, a cruel woman, a seeker of power. The weight of the accusations was almost too much to bear, but she knew she had to face the truth, no matter how much it hurt.
"I'm sorry," she murmured, the words feeling hollow and insignificant. "But I swear to you, I don't remember any of this."
Miriam's eyes narrowed, the anger flaring in them briefly before dying down to a cold ember. "You summoned the Demon King Bael," she said, her voice tight with restrained rage. "Out of spite against God, you wanted his power. You were greedy, seeking to become a god yourself."
The revelation hit Dominique like a blow to the stomach. Her mind reeled, trying to comprehend the magnitude of her actions. The castle, the battles, the lives lost... it was all because of her. She could feel the guilt and horror begin to seep into her bones, a heavy burden she had no memory of placing there.
Miriam's eyes searched hers, looking for any hint of the person she knew. The crying and frightened woman in front of her was a stark contrast to the confident and ambitious exorcist she had known. But the sting of betrayal was still fresh, the pain of loss still raw.
With a sigh that was a mix of anger, exhaustion, and something she didn't dare to name, Miriam reached out and helped Dominique to her feet. "You need to come with me," she said, her voice devoid of emotion. "There are people who will want to see you."
Dominique took the offered hand, feeling the rough calluses against her own soft skin. As she stood, she swayed unsteadily, the world spinning around her. Her legs felt like they would give out at any moment, but she forced herself to stand firm.
Miriam's grip was strong, almost painful, but it was also the only thing grounding her in reality. "Where are we going?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"To Johannes," Miriam said curtly. "He's the only one who might be able to help you. Or decide what to do with you."
The name 'Johannes' stirred something in Dominique's chest, but the emotion remained just out of reach. She nodded, the gravity of the situation sinking in. If she had truly been responsible for such atrocities, she needed to face the consequences. But all she felt was a deep, gnawing fear of what those consequences might be.
As she tried to stand, her legs gave out beneath her, and she crumpled to the ground. The cold stone bit into her palms, and she gasped at the sudden surge of pain. She felt so weak, so powerless.
Miriam's eyes widened, and she rushed to her side, catching her before she could hit the floor. "What's wrong?" she asked, her voice tinged with genuine concern.
Dominique felt a warmth spread through her at the touch, a feeling she hadn't experienced in what felt like an eternity. "I don't know," she murmured, her cheeks flushing slightly. "I just... I'm so tired."
Miriam's expression was unreadable as she knelt beside the fallen woman. Her eyes searched Dominique's, looking for any sign of the cunning exorcist she had known. But all she saw was confusion and fear. With a sigh, she slipped her arms under Dominique's shoulders and helped her sit upright.
"You can't walk in this state," Miriam said, her voice softer than before. "You're too weak."
Without another word, she scooped Dominique into her arms, the blonde's eyes widening in shock. The sudden proximity was unnerving, and she could feel the warmth of Miriam's body against her own, the beat of her heart steady and strong. Despite the situation, she couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort in the arms of her former enemy. The irony was not lost on her, and she felt a blush creep up her neck as she wrapped her arms around Miriam's shoulders, clinging to her for dear life.
Miriam's expression remained stoic as she adjusted her grip, her arms firm and unyielding. She began to walk, her footsteps echoing through the quiet cathedral, the only sound the rustle of their clothing and the faint drip of water from a distant leak. Dominique's head lolled against her shoulder, her eyes fluttering shut as she tried to gather her strength.
The journey was long and silent, the two of them moving through the abandoned village where they were. Dominique could feel the warmth of Miriam's body against hers, the steady rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. It was a stark contrast to the cold, lifeless stone that surrounded them, and she found herself clinging to it, drawing comfort from the one person she knew she had wronged the most.
Her heart was racing now, not from fear, but from something else. Something she didn't quite understand. She felt so small in Miriam's arms, so... vulnerable. And yet, she couldn't help but feel safe. It was a strange paradox, one that made her want to both push away and hold on tighter.
Dominique took a deep, shaky breath, trying to ignore the way her heart was beating a frantic rhythm against Miriam's chest. She swallowed hard and forced the words out. "Who is Johannes?"
Miriam's expression remained unchanged, her eyes focused on the path ahead. "He's an Alchemist," she said, her tone devoid of any warmth. "And an old friend of yours. Another person you betrayed."
Dominique felt a pang of regret at the mention of yet another person she had wronged. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
Miriam's grip tightened, but she didn't respond. Instead, she quickened her pace, the cobblestone path blurring beneath her boots. The village was eerily quiet, the only sounds the distant caws of crows and the rustling of leaves in the wind. It was a stark contrast to the bustling life that once filled these streets, a testament to the horrors that had transpired within the castle walls.
As they approached the outskirts of the village, the air grew colder, the shadows lengthening. Dominique shivered, the chill seeping through her cloak and into her very bones. She could feel the power of the dark magic that had once consumed this place, a lingering miasma that clung to her skin like a shroud.
Miriam didn't speak, her eyes scanning the area for any signs of danger. The silence between them was thick, charged with tension and unspoken accusations. Dominique knew she didn't deserve the warmth of human companionship, not after what she had done. But she couldn't help the warmth that flooded her at the thought of seeing Johannes again. If he was a friend, maybe there was hope for her. Maybe he could help her remember.
As they moved through the deserted streets, the shadows grew darker, more malevolent. Dominique could feel the eyes of the dead watching them, whispering of the sins she had committed. She shivered, burying her face in the crook of Miriam's neck. The scent of leather and iron was comforting, a reminder that she wasn't alone in this nightmare.
Miriam's footsteps grew heavier, the weight of her burden evident in every step. The anger in her eyes had faded, replaced by a weary acceptance. Dominique felt a flicker of something within her, a spark of hope that maybe, just maybe, there was a way to atone for her actions.
Her eyelids grew heavy, the fatigue finally catching up with her. The warmth of Miriam's embrace was seductive, lulling her into a sense of security she hadn't felt in ages. Her mind drifted, the images of the past still dancing just out of reach.
Dominique felt the steady rhythm of Miriam's footsteps, the gentle sway of her movement as she carried her. The darkness that had been creeping into her thoughts grew stronger, a siren's call beckoning her into unconsciousness. She didn't fight it; she was too tired, too overwhelmed.
Her eyes grew heavy, the tears drying on her cheeks as she succumbed to the warm embrace of oblivion. The shadows grew longer, the world outside the cocoon of Miriam's arms a distant memory. The last thing she felt was the warmth of a breath against her ear, a whispered word she couldn't quite make out.
And then she was gone, lost to the abyss of sleep. Her mind was a tumult of images and emotions, the dreams of a tormented soul. The darkness grew around her, swirling and pulsing with the power of the forgotten memories that lay just beyond her reach.
Miriam tightened her hold, feeling the slight weight of the blonde's body against her own. The feel of Dominique's breath on her neck was almost comforting, a strange intimacy in the midst of their adversarial dance. She had carried the weight of her betrayal for so long, the anger had become a second skin. But now, with the woman in her arms, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of something else. Pity, perhaps. Or maybe something more.
"It looks like we're going to have a lot of work to do, Johannes," she murmured to herself, the words echoing in the quiet of the night.
Miriam continued her journey, her boots clicking rhythmically against the cobblestone as she carried Dominique through the desolate village. The darkness was a living entity around them, whispering of the horrors that had occurred within the castle. The blonde's head lolled against her shoulder, her breaths shallow and even. Despite the gravity of the situation, the weight of the woman in her arms felt almost... comforting.