4★ Lucy

Fire Lucy

[Record – Princess]

When the princess was born, everyone across the land celebrated, even the king. With slight hesitation at first, he smiled and blessed his own daughter.

[Record – The Mirror King]

His room was covered in mirrors, surrounding him with an infinite number of copies of himself that shot back any words he spoke to the source from which they came. He remained thusly trapped with himself until along came another like him—his daughter, Lucy, born of his own flesh and soul. She was a different kind of reflection, and brought with her purity in crystalline form. For one who had never been able to accept even himself, it was the first time another person had taken up root in his heart.

[Record – The Queen]

The queen knew her limitations; from the beginning, she knew not to hope for love, so she was not disappointed when she did not receive it. She simply did what was in her power, and played her role as best she could. Still, when she saw that side of the king for the first time, she couldn’t help but be surprised, and suddenly emotions began to stir up within her. After days of reflection, she came to realize she felt inferior to her daughter, and jealous of her.

“Why not me? Why does he not look at me in that way? Why does he not love me? What am I to him? How can he love the life I created, and yet not love me? Why am I not loved?”

For years, the queen asked herself questions to which she had no answers.

Water Lucy

[Record – 27411]

What happened was an accident. The night before her coming-of-age ceremony, she opened the elaborately decorated door to the king’s room to find him on the floor, bleeding and broken. Absentmindedly crouched next to him was the queen, a dagger in her hand. “The dagger looks like a decoration, so how is it so sharp…? The castle maids must have taken great care of it…” Such were the thoughts racing through the princess’s head when the queen, realizing what she had done, began to cry out in pain, despite the fact that she didn’t have a scratch on her.

[Record – 27412]

It was both a cry and a shriek, akin to the wail of a beast filled with fear and despair as it suffers through the throes of death. Soon after, the grunting and footsteps of the guards outside could be heard approaching.

“I can’t stand this…”

The queen hated everything. She was like a porcupine with needles pointed inward, bleeding the more she curled up into herself while he could only reflect her pain back like a mirror, unable to embrace his pitiable wife. Both hated the other, while paradoxically also loving them. The queen was fed up with everything around her.

And so, she froze it all.

[Record – 28793]

The castle was covered in frost.

Previously an imposing fortress for the great Mirror King, now it had degenerated into icy ruins devoid of life. Numerous adventurers tried to infiltrate the fortress for its many treasures, but the sparks of their avarice were quickly snuffed out by the harsh cold. According to those who came back, the hallways of the castle were all completely covered in ice and had become as reflective as mirrors, and the only signs of life were someone’s footprints.

They say the footprints, which strangely almost looked melted into the ice, led out of the castle.

Wood Lucy

[Record – 27278]

The fifth of seven maids in the castle had formerly been an extremely talented warrior, and so she taught Lucy how to fight with any and every weapon. After long familiarizing herself with every weapon in the castle’s armory, Lucy took a particular liking to a staff made of precious metals. She had told the maid she chose it because of its center of gravity, but in fact she had been drawn to the magic orb on top that had been carved in the shape of an apple.

[Record – 27359]

The staff was, in fact, an artifact crafted to help its owner become more proficient in the use of cold magicks. However, in Lucy’s hands, it proved to be a very capable weapon of war. The thorns protruding from the apple-shaped magic orb were highly effective at tearing through and breaking her enemies. As a princess fighting on the battlefield, she could not have hoped for a better “companion,” and the two left a trail of blood wherever they went.

[Record – 27381]

The girl loved apples—the crunch they made when you bit into them, the explosion of juice that followed, and even the red shine of their skin.

Her father, the king, had thick skin. All things bounced off him as though he was a mirror. He answered obedience with dignity, terror with contempt, and hostility with destruction. It was only in her fifteenth year that she realized all of his actions were to hide the soft flesh beneath his tough skin.

Her father could never have become as firm as an apple.

Apples always tasted somewhat bitter after she came to that realization.

Light Lucy

[Record]

Subject: Lucy

Element: Light

First Appearance: xx71 years from the time her tale takes place

Origin: (Redacted in accordance with Level 2 security measures.)

A princess from an ancient kingdom. The metaphor of an apple remains etched in her memory so distinctly that it has weaved itself into her very nature. She also appears to have certain indistinct feelings regarding the number seven, and the idea of “mirrors” occupies an important space in her consciousness.

The slight variation in her staff’s decoration is a manifestation of—and caused by—her desire to be happy. Generally, an Astromon’s natural appearance does not change solely based on its element. If we look at animal Astromons as an example, slight differences in their appearance came about over untold periods of time and through a culmination of experiences. With that in mind, we can start to get an idea of how desperate and earnest her desire for happiness truly was.

Dark Lucy

Master, I just got back from laying waste to all our enemies.

I beat them with my staff, then summoned a storm of ice to slice them to bits until the ground was painted as red as a shiny apple.

Are you pleased with me, Master? Do I get a reward now?

I would very much like a reward.

Master, I am always ready for your command.

I cannot wait for the moment the enemy’s armor is pierced by my razor-sharp thorns, and their cries are drowned out by even greater pain. Then, when their eyes begin to light up at the smallest sliver of hope, I cannot wait to see their looks of despair as I crush that hope to a pulp…

Please, Master, issue the command! Master!

Master, how can you look at me like that?

Did you think I wouldn’t notice the fear and contempt in your eyes?

Ever since I was born, I’ve received that look more than any other—whenever I’m on the battlefield, or arrive in a human city, or even simply go to sleep… It would be impossible for me not to notice it.

If you truly are so afraid of me, please send me to a battle far away, one that never ends, so that you may feel peace while I am gone from your side.

If you truly have so much scorn for me, please denounce me, humiliate me, strike me if need be, so that I may feel at ease while I am at your side.

Master…