The Final Entry

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Hey, Orleris

I hope you're doing well.

I don't know how much you figured out ahead of time, but I just wanted to thank you for not trying to stop us. My only regret was not being able to say a proper goodbye in advance. And I might feel a little bad about keeping your cloak. They're not even in vogue here.

Now that I think about it, that's a wasted reference again, isn't it?

I wasn't sure if this would work. But I used the diamond Hope gave me to ask him to teleport this diary back to your world. If you're reading this, that means we succeeded.

I'm sure you want to know what happened with the 'Demon Lord' once we were through the pathway.

Of course, as soon as we crossed over, he tried to get back. The feeling of magic just being clawed out of me as I passed through the border made my skin crawl, and I've lived in this world most of my life. I can't imagine what it was like for him.

And I'm not exactly as fit as he is too... so when he came at me, I was easily caught. Without magic I'm not a match for him.

He latched onto my arm first, then my neck. At first, he yelled at me in a strange language, but I guess the confusion on my face was enough when I didn't reply. Then, in uncertain English, he demanded I reopen the pathway. Fortunately for me his grip wasn't so much a strangulation grip, but more of a threatening grip.

I guess I had a magical interpreter the whole time. I wonder how you read this diary? Its definitely in English.

Anyway, I held up my phone as if it was a weapon, but I forgot that he was conscious enough to know what a cellphone is when he was sealed away in my earrings- I suppose 15 years was long enough for him to even learn to speak English. So, I switched tactics and said I would call the police.

Police are... never mind. I said I would call for help.

He tried his miasma, but it was, just like my fire, barely a flicker in the wind in my world. I felt only the slightest bit before reaching to my chest with my free hand and using the miniscule remaining magic to absorb it all into the ruby fragments that are still in my chest.

Oh, this is going to stick with me the rest of my life now... I don't think I can even go to a doctor about this. I wonder if part of my rib cage turned into ruby? I digress.

When it was clear that magic wasn't going to do anything, he just... dropped me.

And that means I was right. He had never fought anyone with fists. The only time I ever remember him using anything other than miasma to fight was only against me. He had hurt a lot of people, but never with his own hands directly.

The Goddess had given him magic, and he felt that was permission to do as he pleased, but only with magic. Without that magic, he was probably more like me than I thought.

We both thought of your world like a game.

I've already confessed my sins against your world brought out by that mentality. I don't know whose sins are greater- his, as he never laid a hand direct on anyone but caused them to die, or mine, killing people who he was puppeteering, not knowing that all along sealing him would eliminate all the miasma.

He said some stuff in his language again, before turning back to me and asking what he was supposed to do here, when there wasn't even a god to welcome and direct him.

I don't care. I never planned to take responsibility for him. I knew this question was coming, so I had rehearsed lines in my head while I was waiting in the sealed forest, hoping to get something cool out.

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