My Last Dive [Made in Abyss Fanfiction]

Special Episode 01| My Inspiration

Once again, Bellan sat alone at his kitchen table. Pale gray and yellow morning light spilled in through an open window and pooled on the pages of the open book in front of him. The only sounds that could be heard were the faint chirping of birds outside and the faint bubbling of the water in the kettle as it boiled. A sigh escaped him as he leaned back, basking in the gentle, warm light.

Silence like this was something Bellan coveted. It gave him a sense of peace he almost never felt, with the exception of when he was delving. He'd been able to enjoy that peace for over two decades, with this year marking his twenty-sixth year spent delving.

A high-pitched whine startled him then, and he bolted upright, relaxing when he realized it was coming from the kettle. He hurried to pour himself a cup and add a teabag, making sure to add extra cream and sugar like usual before returning to his book. He was determined to bask in this tranquility before his usual anxieties chased it away.

As he pored over his book, sipping his tea, Bellan cast a glance at his fully-packed backpack sitting in the corner by the front door. He'd checked it three times over the previous night, and it held everything he needed, from basic necessities to his fishing rod. Well, he considered his fishing rod a necessity as he almost never took rations whenever he delved. But today, he was to make a delve to the Second Layer. His plan was to be gone for a few days, four or five at the most.

In a rare occurrence, he would have been going with somebody else, but she had to cancel at the last minute. Bellan didn't expect that, but in a way, he had. It made him sigh. It had been one of the few people left in his abysmal network of associates.

The tea he brewed vanished all-too-quickly, and that was his cue to leave. After dressing, he wove his elbow-length hair into its usual braid before slipping on his jacket and gloves. Once he was done, he cast a brief glance at the only mirror in his home, the one he had purposefully cracked on its left side. Even with how well-maintained he kept himself, he often forgot to turn his shirts back inside-out. The mirror's cracked surface splintered and scattered the scarred stretch of flesh that used to make up the eyelids of what was once his left eye.

He could never get used to looking at it. All it did was bring back memories, ones of talons, piercing eyes, and screams from both himself and those who were once his teammates. They made his stomach feel sick and his hands grow clammy. The wonderful sense of relaxation was rudely chased away even at the thought of this, and he quickly pulled his eye-patch on. There was nothing else for him to do, it was time to go.

When Bellan stepped outside, he was surprised to see something sitting on the dirt path before his front door. It was a small cloth bundle about the size of a large book, and there appeared to be a note attached to it. There was only one person who knew he lived here. Bellan picked the bundle up, carefully holding it as he read the note.

"Again, I'm sorry I couldn't make it on this delve even though I suggested it! I'll make it up to you another time. But for now, hopefully these are enough of an apology." It was signed with an "s" for Sibil Waylyn, Bellan's former training partner and the only friend he had left. Wrapped in the cloth were a half-dozen of Sibil's baking specialty: dinner rolls with cheese baked onto the tops.

Bellan faintly smiled; she knew what his favorites were. Although he didn't make as much of an effort to reach out to Sibil since the death of their mentor, she always tried to keep in touch with him. He tucked the bundle away in his bag, thanking Sibil mentally as he did so. She helped teach at Belchero Orphanage, which was completely out of his way if he wanted to use all the daylight he could. He'd have to thank her properly when he returned. This discovery lifted his spirits, enough to fuel his walk for at least a little while.