Canaan could feel her life slipping away. There was nothing she could do to stop it. She could only keep her eyes wide open and try not to fall asleep.
If she fell asleep, she might never wake up.
She did not want to die. Even if there was only a sliver of hope, she wanted to seize it.
But was there any hope?
Out here in the remote wilderness, while humans and demons fought without end, would anyone remember her?
Faces flashed through Canaan's mind. Everyone who had shaped her life slowly appeared, like scenes unfurling across a scroll. Her mother, who had suffered discrimination because of her but had never complained; her father, whom she longed to approach even as she wanted revenge... The snake-tailed demon who had bullied her, Plapa watching from the shadows... and the shopkeeper who had pulled her out of the mire at the bottom.
Those figures tangled together. Some dissolved into nothing, some slipped into darkness, and others sank deep into her memories.
Only Plapa and the shopkeeper still shone.
They were the only ones still in Lasudelan. They were the only ones who might remember her, who might even come to save her.
Though Canaan knew the chances were vanishingly small.
That plan was about to be carried out, and the demons had already gone into hiding. Who would leave the safety of their refuge to invite trouble? As for the shopkeeper, Canaan knew he was not very strong. He could not leave the Illusion Hut at a time like this.
In the end, then, no one would remember her.
Still, Canaan refused to give up. Even as agony made her whole body convulse, she would not surrender herself.
She wanted to live. Even if she was destined to fall into darkness,