The Last Page: Episode 05

Finnian wanders through the Royal Library, his fingers trailing lightly along the spines of ancient tomes as he walks. His footsteps echo on the polished marble floors. A flurry of movement catches his eye, and he glances over to see Brigit sprinting between bookshelves, her arms loaded with thick volumes, strands of light brown hair escaping her messy bun, and her thick glasses sliding down her thin nose. 

Finnian pauses, watching the assistant librarian rush about. He tries to recall if he has dies on Brigit’s romance route in Ciara Romantica. The details are hazy now, blurred by time, but he faintly remembers finding Brigit’s storyline dull. There had been little chemistry between her and Ciara; their romance had felt forced and unrealistic. Or at least he thinks he recalls telling someone that in his past life. Someone. Someone whose face and voice still elude him even if her shadow is in every one of the memories he has recalled.

But there is something about an explosion in her route, isn’t there? Some magical mishap that occurs here in the library? Isn’t that what triggers the start of the Ciara/Brigit route? Finnian chews his lip. He has worked too hard manipulating events to make sure Ciara ends up with Lochlann; that’s the only route he is certain of. So long as he keeps control, and keeps Ciara on the right path, he might just survive this next life. 

He plops a book down on the table and opens it to a random page, not even sure what he is pretending to look for. A violent boom ricochets off the high ceilings and marble columns. A cloud of smoke spreads across the library, engulfing everything. Choking, but without a second thought, he dashes toward the screams.

Scholars and students emerge from behind their fortresses of books, expressions ranging from terrified to mildly annoyed. He rounds a corner and skids to a halt as the smoke clears. Shelves lie toppled, their contents spilling across the floor in a mess of parchment and leather. In the center lies Ciara, her robes singed at the edges and blood dripping from her hands. "I didn't mean to," she says. "I don't know what went wrong."

Lochlann and Brigit are at her side first, fussing over the stunned and bleeding woman. He blinks, wisps of his past life coming back to him. In the game, this situation was intentionally set up as a trap rather than being a mere accident. But he can’t remember who set it up. If this were an event in his own route, Lochlann’s route, or Ríona’s route, he would suspect Ein. But it’s not; as far as he remembers, this event is only in Brigit’s route. Right?

“Are you alright, Ciara?” Lochlann’s voice is strained as he examines her injured arm.

“I didn't mean to," she says again, eyes wide. "I-I don’t know what happened. I was just taking notes, and then the book exploded.”

Finnian’s eyes narrow as he surveys the situation. His senses are on high alert, and he feels a strange prickling at the back of his neck. Something is off.

“Did you see anyone else around when this happened?” Lochlann asks, scanning the library.

Ciara shakes her head, wincing. “N-no, I was alone.”

“I am going to fetch the royal physicians,” Lochlann says. 

No, Finnian thinks. Lochlann has to stay here, where he can bond with Ciara even more. If Lochlann leaves, it will definitely trigger the start of the Ciara/Brigit route! “That will take too long,” Finnan says, joining his brother and the assistant librarian, his voice steady even though he is not. 

“The physicians are too far away to arrive here quickly, but I have a friend who is just down the street,” Brigit says, pushing her glasses up with her thumb. “Ríona. She’s a healer, I can fetch her.”

Brigit knows Ríona? But how? This is bad, Finnian thinks. He can’t have Ciara starting two other routes. Especially not in the same day.

“Is she good?” Lochlann asks, voice tight.

“Ríona is the best,” Brigit says.

“Fetch her! Hurry!”

“There’s no need for that,” Finnian says, begging his heart to slow down. “I can tend to Ciara’s wounds here. Brigit, please fetch the medical kit from the staff closet.” 

Brigit nods and hurries off. Lochlann squints, uncertain, hovering next to Ciara. “Are you sure? These look like serious injuries.”

Finnian claps his brother on the shoulders. “I may not be a royal physician, but I know enough to clean and dress a wound. Ciara will be alright. I was studying medicine, after all.” 

“You were studying magical healing, not medicine,” Lochlann says, but relents.

Finnian kneels beside Ciara, taking her injured arm. She winces but does not pull away. Finnian fights to keep his expression neutral. He cannot allow anything to derail his plans. Ríona must not become involved. He scolds himself for his miscalculations. He had let Ciara meet Brigit—a small error in his grand scheme—but he could still control the outcome. He can navigate this. “Lochlann. I need you to stay here with Ciara to help keep her calm. Hold her while I do what I need to do.”

Brigit returns with gauze and alcohol and plenty of creams, potions, and ointments. He carefully examines her wound, while too many people examine him. As he applies one of the creams to her arm, he gets a strange prickle in the back of his neck again. I’ve done this before, he thinks. No, it wasn’t him who did this. He played this scene before. This isn’t the start of the Brigit/Ciara route. This is the start of his route with Ciara. This is the event that triggers his own love story with the game’s heroine. 

Memories from too many lives mix together. Finnian lets out a shaky breath. The fall from his horse’s back at the funeral had cracked his skull in just the right spot to unlock memories from his past life. A past life that had been cut tragically short, ending far too soon for reasons he still couldn’t recall. His days back then had been spent in dreary poverty, paycheck to paycheck with scarcely a coin to rub together. His only joy had come from playing otome games on the secondhand console he’d scrimped and saved for. Ciara Romantica had been his favorite, the pinnacle of the genre. It had swept the awards circuit, even winning accolades from staunch critics who normally refused to acknowledge otome games as true works of gaming artistry. But now here he was, living inside of it, still trying to direct the games heroine onto the “best” romance route. It is not as fun living the game as it was playing the game.

But not only did he remember what he did in his past life. He remembered who he was; and this knowledge answered the questions he’d been asking the whole of this life. Questions and answers he is still too afraid to put words to, even in his head.

This is the moment where he is supposed to fall in love with Ciara. But this isn’t the same game and he isn’t playing by its rules.

In this world, Finnian has no intention of falling for Ciara’s charms. He knows that he can’t afford to let her notice him—not when he needs her to fall for Lochlann instead. The irony isn’t lost on him—the only person in this world who could possibly love him for who he truly is, is the one person he must ensure never sees him.

His heart twinges at the thought. In another life, in another world perhaps, things could have been different. But here and now, Finnian must focus on surviving, on making sure his carefully laid plans come to fruition. He will remain unseen, unnoticed—a silent observer in his own life. Because in this world, survival isn’t about winning the heart of the heroine—it’s about making sure she never even notices that he exists.