Y/N's gaze lingered on Idrila, the moments stretching into what seemed like centuries. The air around them was sweet with her presence, a fragrance that intensified as the garden's flora burgeoned with an explosion of both exotic and familiar flowers.

The definition of beauty, so often confined to the observer's eyes, unfurled around him in a chaotic yet mesmerizing display. What others might see as beautiful, Y/N perceived as a voracious mess, almost alive, pulling him towards an inescapable abyss. Yet, he stood firm, his past dealings with IX having fortified his emotional resilience against such overwhelming allure.

"Pardon my rudeness, but you feel... different," Y/N ventured, his observation hanging ambiguously in the air between them. Idrila's smile, while warm, seemed tinged with hidden pain—a mask he recognized all too well from his own past disguises.

Her eyes, shifting hues with each blink, reflected the myriad facets of beauty. "Different? My... It is the first time someone has told me that. Even my knights would hesitate to speak such a truth."

Her words painted a portrait of loneliness, surrounded by admirers yet isolated in her emotional fortress. Y/N empathized deeply, knowing the solitude that often accompanied such outward adoration.

"I'm sure they meant well; an Aeon such as yourself commands respect," Y/N replied, catching a glimpse of his shadow standing regal like a silent monarch, its cape fluttering in the floral breeze.

The garden's ambiance shifted subtly, the air briefly tinged with the scent of decay. Idrila's gaze dropped, a hint of sorrow briefly crossing her features. "Truly... your manners are intact, yet here you are, trying to empathize with a being like myself. How very brave. Yet, you are right. I have long been adorned in the guise of the concept I embody."

As Y/N observed the flowers revitalizing around them, he noted, "The environment responds to your emotions. There's more to 'beauty' than many realize." His comment drew a thoughtful look from Idrila, her eyes inviting him to elaborate.

The garden transformed further under her influence, roses blooming into structures of mythical grandeur, creating an abode fit for gods. It was clear now to Y/N; the garden's beauty was a direct reflection of Idrila's inner state.

Both Y/N and his shadow were motioned to sit by Idrila, who conjured chairs resembling noble thrones from an age of fantasy. Y/N examined his chair, tracing the intricate jewels embedded in its frame before sitting down. The shadow, however, reshaped its chair into a sword, using it as a cane, a reminder of its constant readiness for battle.

Idrila, taking her place upon a throne woven from nature itself, prompted Y/N to continue. He thus spoke, "Beauty is often perceived as merely what pleases the eye or meets aesthetic standards. Yet, its true essence is profoundly subjective, shaped by cultural norms, personal experiences, and the ebbs and flows of society. What is seen as majestic and orderly to one may appear chaotic and destructive to another."

As he spoke, Y/N could see Idrila's smile bloom like the roses around her, her warmth radiating like the sun. His cheeks tinged with a blush, hidden only by his hand. The shadow snickered quietly, its amusement clear even without words.

"Indeed, you've grown tremendously in understanding," Idrila responded softly, her tone filled with a mix of admiration and melancholy. "Yet, despite your insights, you remain influenced by those around you. Your nature is gentle, yet you perceive yourself rough, shaped by harsh experiences and the deceit of others."

Y/N sighed, acknowledging her words. "I often act with brashness, placing others before myself. But, reflecting on my past, especially with Jingliu, I realize that sometimes, what seems selfless can also be selfish."

As he wrestled with his thoughts, the shadows around him deepened, almost comforting in their embrace. "We've always prioritized our desires, particularly when it concerns her," the shadow interjected, its voice a mirror to Y/N's deeper, unspoken feelings.

Idrila's intervention came as a symphony of roses, the flowers enveloping the shadows and restoring light to the garden. "Now that you've confronted your feelings, let's return to our discourse on beauty," she proposed, her words carrying an undercurrent of caution.

Y/N and the shadow exchanged a look, understanding the complexity of their existence and the powers at play, especially in the presence of an Aeon like Idrila, who could sway their environment with a mere thought.

"Beauty's true power lies not in its conformity but in its ability to evoke and provoke," Idrila continued, conjuring a flower in her hand that seemed to pulse with an inner darkness. Y/N recognized the energy—it was akin to that of the Great Ones but tainted, a mysterious force masked by its allure.

"The concept of beauty is invaluable because it adapts, reflecting the multifaceted nature of perception and experience across cultures and epochs," she concluded, her gaze intense, challenging Y/N to expand his understanding of not just beauty, but of himself and the world around him.

As the conversation deepened, Idrila dismissed the shadow, needing to focus solely on Y/N. "Monarch, please leave us. I have more to discuss with him."

The shadow nodded, melting into the darkness from which it had emerged, leaving Y/N to face Idrila and the profound revelations of beauty alone.

Y/N stood up from his chair, the manifestation of beauty that once surrounded it dissolving into the very soil beneath their feet. His movement was deliberate, reflecting a readiness to confront the truths he sensed lurking just beneath the surface. The Ornate Dagger appeared in his hand—not out of aggression, but as a reflex of a seasoned warrior bracing for revelations that might shake the very core of his being.

"Let's get straight to the question. The world—the so-called Kingdom that Igris mentioned, what happened? I sensed that it was too alien to belong to our plane of existence," Y/N stated, his gaze locking onto Idrila with an intensity that matched the seriousness of his inquiry.

Idrila, the embodiment of beauty, stood from her throne-like chair, which unlike Y/N's, decayed visibly, an unsettling rot spreading to its floral embellishments, mirroring a demise that ran deeper than mere aesthetics. "I see every soul in my kingdom as my child," she began, her voice a blend of maternal affection and somber resignation. "The elders who have retired to guide our politics, the knights sworn to defend this realm, the spouses weaving through societal intricacies, even the newborns cradled in their mothers' arms—all are mine to cherish and protect."

She reached out to a nearby flower, its petals wilting, blackening as if stricken by the same curse that gnawed at her seat. "You recognize this decay—it's the same dark energy that ended your life in that other plane. Indeed, you are correct. The realm was an artificial creation, born from a misguided child of mine who strayed far from her path."

As Idrila confirmed his death in that estranged world, Y/N's hand instinctively touched his chest, finding an unsettling hollowness where his heartbeat should have resonated. "I will not delve into specifics, as my memories are fragmented, swept away by the tides of chaos and rebirth. Perhaps you've heard of the Mirror Holders, scouring the cosmos for fragments of Aeon relics? After my revival, it was revealed to me, yet I remain incomplete."

Y/N nodded, aware of the cosmic scavengers piecing together their own forms of power from the relics of Aeons. "But you are here now, revived and whole," he noted, though Idrila's slow, melancholy shake of the head and the advancing rot around them told a different story.

"It may seem so, but not all is restored. Memories may fade, yet emotions linger, haunting reminders of bonds and betrayals," Idrila explained, her tone wistful. "Much like your own remembrances of suffering and love intertwined with Jingliu's image."

"Indeed, even now," Y/N confessed, feeling a pang of sorrow and longing at the mention of her name.

Idrila offered a knowing smile, perhaps recognizing the weight of his admission. "Good. Now, come with me. I have something to show you, something that signifies both our ends."

"End?" Y/N echoed, the emptiness within him expanding with the word.

The world around them shifted dramatically. The decaying garden faded, replaced by the ruins of a once-majestic kingdom. Idrila and Y/N found themselves standing at the top of a grand staircase, looking down upon a cityscape that whispered tales of glory days long past and the relentless march of time that had reduced it to shadows and echoes.

The kingdom sprawled out before them was a somber spectacle, its buildings and towers crumbling, succumbing slowly to the ravages of time and neglect. Nature reclaimed areas once teeming with life, vines creeping over stone and mortar, asserting the inevitability of decay. The air was thick with a melancholic beauty—a poignant reminder of what once was.

"This was a realm vibrant with life, a sanctuary for those who revered beauty and harmony under my aegis," Idrila's voice broke through the silence, tinged with sadness. "Yet, as you see, even the greatest of kingdoms fall, their echoes fading into the annals of time, remembered only by those who dare to look back."

Y/N absorbed the scene, the weight of Idrila's words settling heavily upon him. Here, amidst the ruins of a forgotten kingdom, the concepts of beauty and decay intermingled, each lending the other a grave yet graceful significance. This place, marked by both splendor and ruin, served as a stark canvas upon which the stories of countless lives were painted, now fading into the mists of obscurity.

As they descended the stairs, Y/N remained silent, contemplative, his mind wrestling with the revelations and the haunting beauty of the decay around him. The shadows cast by the setting sun stretched long across the broken cobblestones, like dark fingers trying to hold onto the day. Here, in this place where beauty met its end, Y/N felt a kinship with the ruins—a shared sense of enduring through loss, of persisting despite the inevitable decline.

"A mess, isn't it?" Y/N observed as he watched Idrila navigate through the ruined splendor of their surroundings, tears streaking down from her eyes which had lost their once vibrant hues, now dulled as if reaching their end. The majesty that once was had turned to melancholy, and the kingdom itself seemed to mourn, hues of decay spreading with every tear she shed.

Y/N's heart, though missing, felt the overwhelming sadness emanating from Idrila, manifesting visibly in the environment's continuous decay. It was a powerful illustration of show and not tell, conveying more than words ever could. Born of greatness, her child had succumbed to greed and delusion, transforming promise into ruin—a narrative simple in concept yet profound in its emotional depth.

Compelled by a surge of empathy, Y/N reached out and embraced her. Her sobs lessened within the sanctuary of his arms, the immediate world around them momentarily lightening in its oppressive gloom. After a moment, she gently pulled away, her eyes grateful yet haunted.

"Thank you... we've arrived," she whispered, wiping away her tears.

Y/N looked around, only now realizing they had entered a grand structure. They stood within an ancient hall, its once magnificent architecture now a shadow of its former glory. The hall was dominated by a towering sculpture, a monolithic figure carved from dark stone that seemed to absorb the scant light, giving the space an eerie luminance. Pillars lined the space, their surfaces etched with the passage of time, and between them, altars laden with candles cast flickering shadows across the cracked marble floor.

"Now, here at this moment of past time, pilgrims of old prayed here to recover their lost selves," Idrila explained, her voice echoing softly off the stone.

As she spoke, her form began to flicker, the illusion of her beauty shifting unsettlingly. "You have the chance to redeem yourself. An identity that will suit you. The power of Existence lies within you, mingling with the Abyss," she continued, her figure stabilizing as she stepped closer to Y/N.

Y/N, his black-purple eyes glowing with a mix of resolve and curiosity, turned to face her fully. "You will have the opportunity to save yourself from this realm, but it will depend on your cooperation, Y/N," she stated, standing beside him, her presence both comforting and commanding.

The hall, with its echoes of countless prayers and pleas, seemed to await his decision, a silent observer to the crossroads of fate Y/N found himself at. Here, amidst the ruins of a once-great kingdom, he confronted the dual aspects of his destiny—the ruin brought by past actions and the potential for redemption that lay in the choices yet to come.

As the candles flickered, casting long shadows that danced along the walls, Y/N felt the weight of Idrila's words settle upon him. The path to salvation lay not just in battling the darkness within but in embracing the complexities of his own nature, intertwined as it was with the Abyss.

End of Chapter