Aetheric Chronicles: Reborn As An Extra

Chapter 391 The Villainess's Story [2]

"Please," the younger Evangeline had said, her voice trembling yet steady. "Please help me, Master Veda. My sister... she doesn't have much time left. I've heard so much about you. You're my last hope."

In that moment, Veda remembered feeling something she rarely felt for anyone—a pang of sympathy. She had seen so many like Evangeline—people who sought her out in desperation, people who clung to hope in the face of death. But this girl… there was something different about her. Something raw, something that stirred something deeper within Veda's heart. She couldn't ignore her. Continue your saga on empire

She had felt compelled to help her.

But now, as she stood in the present, staring at the veiled woman who was once that desperate girl, Veda felt her chest tighten.

The years had changed them both—hardened them. And yet, here they were, standing face to face again, the past seeping into the present like a wound that had never fully healed.

"You were so young..." Veda found herself whispering, her mind still locked in the vision of that pale girl standing before her. "So desperate..."

The image of the younger Evangeline shimmered before her eyes, slowly turning to look at her with those wide, hopeful eyes—eyes that had once held so much trust in Veda's abilities.

Veda could almost reach out and touch her, the memory so vivid, so painfully real. She could feel the weight of those moments pressing down on her, the decisions she had made back then... the choices that had led them here.

But as the memory played out in Veda's mind, Evangeline's soft, mocking voice sliced through the haze.

"Yes, I was desperate," Evangeline said, her tone now laced with an eerie sweetness, dragging Veda back into the present. "But you were my salvation, weren't you? You, the great Veda, with your skills and your power. You told me you could help."

Veda's heart clenched at the memory of those words—the promise she had made to that girl all those years ago. She had meant it.

She had truly believed she could save Evangeline's sister. She had done everything within her power, poured every ounce of her knowledge and skill into crafting a cure.

But she had failed.

"You failed," Evangeline spoke, her voice filled with hatred and irritation. "It would have been fine if you just told me you failed... But... What did say? What did you do?"

Veda's breath caught as Evangeline's accusation echoed through the room like a crack of thunder. The air grew dense, the weight of the past pressing down on her. She had been prepared for this moment, or so she thought. Yet, hearing it spoken aloud—hearing the venom in Evangeline's voice—made her chest constrict with a guilt she had long buried.

"Do you remember?" Evangeline's voice was now soft but biting, laced with contempt. She took another step forward, her eyes gleaming beneath her veil, as if savoring Veda's discomfort. "You told me to focus. To keep pushing myself, to learn, to train harder in my alchemy. You said that my sister would be fine… if I only worked harder. That my efforts would lead to her recovery."

Veda's lips parted, but no words came. The truth was a bitter thing lodged in her throat, choking her.

Evangeline's eyes narrowed, her painful smirk widening as she closed the distance between them. "I believed you, m.a.s.t.e.r."

"...I trusted you. I worked tirelessly for weeks, months, thinking every moment I spent learning would bring me closer to saving her. But all the while…" Her voice lowered to a near whisper, her words dripping with disdain. "You knew she was already dying."

A cold silence fell over the room.

Adrian, still bound by Veda's magic, watched the scene unfold with wide eyes, his mind racing to piece together the full picture. He had always known that Veda carried secrets, but this—this was something darker.

Veda finally found her voice, though it came out ragged and low. "I thought… I thought that if you focused on your training, it would distract you. That you wouldn't—"

"Wouldn't what?" Evangeline interrupted, her tone mocking. "Wouldn't notice my sister wasting away before my eyes? Wouldn't notice the life draining out of her while I was mixing potions and perfecting incantations, hoping it would save her?"

Veda's eyes closed briefly, the memory of that time surging back.

She had indeed believed that training would give Evangeline a sense of control, a focus, something to shield her from the inevitable. But in doing so, she had miscalculated.

Gravely.

"I w-was wrong," Veda whispered, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. "I… I shouldn't have told you that. I should have—"

"Lied to me?" Evangeline's voice cut through the air like a blade, sharp and cold. "No, master. You did lie to me. Over and over again, you kept up the pretense, feeding me false hope, making me believe I had the power to save her. But she died. She died, Veda."

Veda felt the sharp sting of guilt crash into her, threatening to drown her.

She had made a choice back then—one she thought would soften the blow of loss, a decision to shield a young girl from the cruel reality. But she had underestimated the consequences, the depth of betrayal that Evangeline must have felt when the truth finally emerged.

"I… I never meant to hurt you," Veda said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I thought that if you focused on your training, on becoming stronger, you wouldn't feel so helpless."

Evangeline let out a low, bitter laugh. "Helpless? You thought it would save me from feeling helpless?"

She stepped even closer, her face now only inches from Veda's. "All it did was make me feel responsible. Responsible for every moment I wasn't with her, for every potion I brewed that didn't work. You made me believe it was my failure—my fault—that she died. And that... that is unforgivable."

A thick silence settled in, heavy with unspoken blame and years of pent-up resentment. Veda felt the weight of her choices pressing down on her, but she also knew there was nothing she could say to undo the past.

No one could control time...