Fated Across Worlds

Enter, Hilde (2)

Complete access to the new identity's memories—her knowledge of the world, its languages and customs, her own hard-earned skills… it's debatable whether that was the most ideal "cheat" for someone who was an actress in her past life.

Many performers do go to great lengths to learn everything there is to know about a character. They want their portrayal to be as authentic or as "close to the source" as they can make it.

But there are also performers who are big on "freedom of interpretation." They want to be told as little information as necessary so they could develop the character using their own creativity.

Of course, the question of what ‘Lilith Vespers’ would have thought about this cheat was now moot. The actress herself had been a natural chameleon, and she had passed on her role-playing skills to this new identity, not her views on it.

It was now ‘Hilde’ running the show, and she was of the opinion that if she'd been a spy, there's no question—it would have been the best cheat possible.

It was too bad that the true and as-yet nameless identity of both ‘Lilith Vespers’ and ‘Princess Hilde of Arnica’ was merely an identity thief.

‘Hilde’ saw no sense in being the exact same Hilde of the past; she had now been permanently altered by another person's memories, skills, and personality. 

But while there's no getting around her last life's influence, it was still the present identity, Hilde, that was dominant and in control.

The tears were proof of that.

After Prick had relayed the condensed yet still-lengthy version of Hilde's life thus far, her mind had automatically converted the words into memories. However, she had not been given the chance to process her fully-assumed identity, let alone think about her most recent circumstances.

Instead, while her head was still spinning, she had been informed: [This Setting's objective is ‘endurance.’]

Hilde waited, but Prick didn't say anything more.

"Will you please be more specific?" she asked in a carefully neutral tone.

When Prick replied, he sounded amused with her for some reason. [All types of endurance, I suppose, and as much of them as you can… ‘cultivate.’]

"I see," she said, thinking it over seriously. "Thank you. Until when?"

[Until when indeed,] Prick replied with a chuckle. She still wasn't sure what he found so amusing, but she’d gathered by his answer that it was one of those things she was not allowed to know. She didn't insist on finding out. [Your body's already trained to the nines, so there's that going for you.]

At those words, Hilde's thoughts froze. Then, without warning, the memories of the last moments before she fell off her horse grew distinct.

There were several reasons why she became an oddity of a princess who's well-trained in the soldierly arts. One of those reasons had just been killed, along with her elder brother, in a treacherous ambush somewhere in their Queendom's northern border.

That was where Hilde—the old one—had been trying to get to before… before she was taken over. 

Though it would have been impossible for her to get there within the day, she’d set off with nothing but the clothes on her back, riding for over three hours straight with no thoughts for anything other than exchanging spent horses for fresh ones. She needed to see for herself whether it was true.

The Hilde of the present knew, however, that none of their people would lie or make a mistake about such a report.

That person… her teacher, her friend, her love—he was gone.

Hilde hadn't been aware that the silence had stretched too long until Prick cleared his non-existent throat. Likewise, she didn't know why he sounded so awkward when he said: [Time for you to go.]

It was only when she looked up and blinked that she realized she'd been crying.

[Remember, Hilde,] Prick said before releasing her from the Cube. [Endure.]

***

When her consciousness returned to the body she was now occupying, she was better prepared for the all-at-once rush of sensory input. Unfortunately, Prick was correct—she did not enjoy the sensations of pain, dizziness, and confusion that were now in the mix.

Her entire head throbbed; her neck itched and ached under its constraints. And within her ribcage, it was as if there were dozens of jagged pieces piercing and shredding her from the inside out.

Pain of the body, she was familiar with. Hilde had been obsessed with physical training since the age of four; bruises and aches were nothing new to her, though her current condition was a lot worse than what she was used to.

But the incorporeal pain within her chest was something she'd never experienced before—it was wrenching and crushing, it made her want to scream until her throat and the whole world were in ruins.

Who did that Prick think he was kidding? There was no enduring this agony.

With all her might, Hilde wrestled her emotions under rigid control. She couldn't possibly last if she allowed them to overwhelm her from the get-go. This was NOT "just another role." This was her life now, and there was no knowing how long she must live it. It would be for the best if she sealed her feelings shut until she saw further use for them.

From the farthest recesses of her mind, a male voice's exasperated sigh echoed.

She ignored it, focusing instead on the feeling of someone touching her hand and on the sounds made by a female voice nearby.

Hilde opened her damp eyes with a groan and immediately had to close them again. She heard that same female voice suck in her breath. After re-opening her lids and squinting to try to dispel her blurry vision, she slid her gaze sideways. Her light gray eyes met a pair of tawny ones that were also rimmed with tears.

For a moment, Hilde was at a loss. Most of the memories she had literally just gained were nowhere to be found, and she cannot put a name to the face she was looking at. Then, just as she was starting to panic, it slowly came back to her.

"Gisela," she acknowledged weakly, her voice sounding rough. She then tried to look at her surroundings but was only rewarded with more pain. Fighting past the dizziness, she could only move her half-closed eyes. That was enough for her to recognize the burgundy-themed room she always stayed in when visiting her cousin. "I'm at your manor?"

Gisela nodded as she attempted to dry her steadily-streaming tears. "You've reached this far north yesterday," she explained through her sniffles. "Do you remember? You… you got into an accident just outside of Nelke. The soldiers that were sent after you brought you to us."

Thinking better of nodding her battered and spinning head, Hilde merely closed her eyes again and said, "Mm."

"Hilde…" Gisela began hesitantly, her initial relief giving way to other concerns. "It was an accident? You didn't…?"

Her cousin couldn't voice it, but Hilde fully understood what she meant to ask. The slight answering smile on her pale, thin lips could only be described as self-deprecating.

"That would have been too much, even for me," she replied in a low but cutting tone. "Lothar saw me as his little sister. We were never lovers. I was merely a foolish girl who was overly attached."