Ever since he was young, Soren has always been seen differently. His mannerisms, his quiet yet thoughtful gaze… It led people into believing he always hid his true thoughts from those around him.

And they weren’t exactly wrong.

His true thoughts were anything but childish. They were anything but fitting for a boy his age. And it didn’t take him long for him to realize hiding them was better than revealing them.

“What a boring conclusion…”

Everything about its setup was cliche and easy to see through. Camilla and Cassilda—their tragedy that has persisted in a repeating moment for eternity… There was certainly intrigue and mystique to its elements. But the overall picture was rather opaque in comparison.

The rules of the dance, the behaviors of the nobles, Camilla’s very convincible nature that allowed for his plan to succeed in the first place… It was all far too linear for his tastes.

The last part was especially distasteful. He didn’t like how easily he was able to change her mind. It felt unearned—the script seemed to have veered in a far too predictable manner. His curiosity demanded more…

But these thoughts could only be hidden behind a neat smile as he danced along to the information he had gathered previously. Indeed, just as he had lied to Camilla, so too did he lie to Cassilda’s eternally burning corpse as well.

He did in fact possess a mask. One that he had held onto since even before his arrival in Yarian.

Ynixia was no less a victim of its design. As Camilla had guessed, Soren also secretly despised the girl. He felt conflicted about aiding her in her goals—it felt akin to walking down another path laid for him by someone else. Namely, Guntherion who had sent him here in the first place.

But there was no denying his curiosity either. That was the type of foul creature he was—mindlessly in search of new and interesting things, even if it meant flying into a flame that may or may not burn him alive.

And that was what annoyed him so much about his current dilemma. This demented script he was currently allowing himself to partake in—it was just far too easy to follow and understand. He wanted twists! He wanted thrills! To let the illogical be logical, and for the logical to become nonsensical.

These feelings were compelling him to possibly throw it all away, and introduce chaos again into his choices—to go against even his own plans and cancel the spell for good, announcing to the nobles and the young Guardian Spirit that her problems cannot actually be solved, watching as despair and hatred clouded her vision. Indeed, such a spectacle would be more amusing than the current conclusion he was aiming for.

But he decided to suppress those thoughts anyway. From the corner of his eyes, he could still see Camilla standing with her hands clutching tightly to her skirt, watching his movements carefully—hope sprinkled across her irises.

A Cabinet of Curiosities won’t be worthy of its name if it didn’t showcase the exotic things within its collection.

The thought only flashed for a moment, but it did cement his understanding of his Magecraft Persona even further than before. Just as Fairy Witness imbues him with a sense of curiosity dangerous enough to neglect his surrounding reality, the Magecraft persona flips that into a role one must embody to spread that curiosity onto others.

In a sense, his magecraft becomes a showing—the very curiosities the cabinet hides. This was the counterbalance to his immeasurable desire for interesting things.

With a smile, he bowed deeply toward the opulent hall, sweeping his arm in a grand, mocking flourish. The snap of his fingers crackled loudly like a whip across the silent ballroom.

“History tends to be remembered through half truths and half myths. Allow this performance to be an opportunity for correction.”

The announcement echoed across the banquet hall. The noble men and women all turned toward the spectacle in confusion.

He lifted from the bow and smiled once again toward the forming crowd.

“Ladies and gents, I present to you a historic recital. One I will aptly name The Sinner’s Reprise.”

As he said this, the Traveler snapped his fingers again, signalling for his magecraft spell to begin its unwinding. The path he had traveled moments prior—marked by rhythmic placements of holographic silhouettes—came alive. One by one, the lightshow consumed the dim hall as strange music began to fill the ears of all who witnessed it.

It was if they had been transported within a myth—a story unfolding through a live performance. The nobles stood idly as they watched the strange figures resembling themselves move in pairs, no different from the dance they had enacted just moments prior. They simply couldn’t look away… Slowly, they began to forget the anger and resentment that once clouded their vision. Replaced entirely by curiosity instead.

Camilla watched this unfold in complete awe. Just moments prior, she had been harassed and hounded by accusations of betrayal and treachery. Now, those very same nobles were spectating a grand performance, magical in both display and mystique. As if they were mesmerized by what they were seeing…

“How wondrous…” She couldn’t help but say to herself quietly. The dancing figures were following the path they had all crossed before—now guided by the Traveler’s own rhythmic movements. One by one, they recreated the very dance they had performed once again, but this time, they were the ones in the audience.

“One, two, three.

“One, two, three…” Soren counted the steps again and again as he laid the path forward for the play. This was his role as the manager of the spell’s activation and the maintenance of its delicate medium.

Like any other spell belonging to the Ephemera affinity, Historic Recital required a medium for its casting. While Paper-Fold Resurrection utilized paper to fulfil this requirement, Historic Recital needed a living reenactment of the event for it to work properly. The more accurate the recital, the easier it was for the phenomenon to succeed in returning.

Of course, just like Paper-Fold Resurrection, it also had its own restrictions. For one, the recital couldn’t be any shorter or longer than what the original event’s timeframe was. He needed to complete the dance in the exact same amount of seconds as it was originally, or else the spell would fail to activate properly.

With another spin, Soren completed another cycle in the rhythm, resetting his counter back to zero.

“One… Two…”

The performance continued. This time, he was reenacting Aunt Celeste’s dance. The same person who was scolding Camilla just moments ago…

Her back has a slight hunch, making her steps slightly unbalanced. The thought returned to his memory as he continued his steps:

“One, two, three…”

He passed the routine to the next person—this time it was a nobleman with a larger stomach than his partner’s, causing their movements to falter at times. He recreated their steps again.

“Three… One, two, three…”

One by one, the nobles that had disparaged Camilla were copied and performed, adding to the long list… Behind him, a trail could be observed—holographic figures were mirroring the steps he had just taken moments prior, creating a breathtaking performance of moving lights.

But unbeknownst to the spectators, Soren was exhaustingly focused on continuing the recital perfectly. He knew that with Ephemera’s restrictions, he had to make sure his attempt had no mistakes at all. The spell could not be reused once he completed this dance—recasting of the same historical phenomenon was impossible.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

This was his one and only chance to enact his plan.

Softly he spun around once again, mimicking the movements of another noble couple. The path he was taking began to resemble a strip of moving pictures—each pair of noble man and woman was its own portrait in a continuous set that was growing more and more as the enchanting music played in the minds of the spectators.

If he had to be honest, none of this would have been possible if not for [Eyes of the Fairy] reaching Rank 2. The previous limitations on his mystic eyes would have been far too great for him to be able to [Record] every set of movements continuously for so long.

Unlike before, where a single target had to be selected in order for him to acquire the right information, Soren could now select multiple at the same time. Of course, the burden on his mind had also shrunk significantly as well. If it weren’t for Carcosa’s Beyond being covered in layers of ashe, soot, dust, and mist, seeing the unseen would have required far less effort.

But because of this, he could now analyze entire sets of actions together, rather than a single action or object on its own. This allowed him to capture every individual noble’s movements perfectly, which created the conditions for this spell to work as well as it has now…

Of course, Soren was still expecting some issues to appear anyway—nothing came easy in these worlds, after all.

He just didn’t expect for a dilemma to appear in this way of all ways…

“Three, two, one. Three, two, one… Huh?”

His eyes widened in shock. What he was seeing was completely beyond his expectations.

The dance… it had for some reason begun to repeat itself!

Noblemen after noblemen. Noblewomen after noblewomen… Every single pair of dancers he had just mimicked were now being mimicked again! He had gone through the entire list mentally and formulated the exact recital, step by step… And yet, it had somehow managed to change without his knowledge?

Did Biblion use [Record] to mess with my memories? I don't recall the recital ever needing to be replayed—that was never in the plan!

But as he continued stepping into the proper positions, it became undeniable. Historic Recital requires the reenactment of the event to be exactly the same length of time as the original. Since the spell hadn't crumbled even after he stepped into a new cycle, that had to imply that the event had yet to end!

But this is impossible!

His mind couldn't understand. The event he was recreating was of the dance they had performed previously… And this dance only occurred once! He was there to witness it, after all.

Why would it suddenly require a second dance as well? This was never contained in the original event he had witnessed!

But what was even more shocking was the movements themselves. Soren stepped into the rhythm once more for Aunt Celeste which he had performed earlier. But instead of the same errors occurring as they did in the first dance, the recital plan in his mind was instructing him to move differently in order to mimic her!

From the crowd, Camilla watched the continuing performance with growing confusion. She looked to her left and right—the other nobles were also forming similar expressions. They had all been assuming that the dance recital the Traveler was performing was the same one they had performed themselves moments ago. And yet… his current movements didn't match any of their memories at all!

What is he planning…

If she were to ask that question to him, he wouldn't have been able to answer it either. Soren followed rhythm after rhythm—one, two, three cycles repeating again and again… But despite his body moving perfectly in accordance with the instructions he obtained from his Soul Weapon, his mind was in complete and total chaos. It felt as if he was walking down a narrow path with a blindfold covering his vision—relying on only an unfamiliar voice guiding his path forward.

Even so, he continued moving exactly as the recital plan had outlined. He knew he couldn’t ruin his one and only chance. Not to mention, Soren trusted that Biblion likely had a reason for implementing these additions to the plan without his knowledge.

Time moved quickly. After completing the dance routine once more, he was shocked to find that the recital plan had been modified again—adding another cycle and forcing him to repeat the dances for all the nobles once again. Behind him, there now stood two interlinked trails of waltzing holograms, clones of one another that seemed to dance just slightly differently. He sighed and decided to immediately begin the third cycle by stepping gracefully into the dance.

By now, the nobles and Camilla had grown wary. Their expressions which were once filled with curiosity had transformed into expressions of confusion and impatience—there were many that even seemed to have grown bored of the performance entirely.

Soren could faintly hear their whispers filling the air, but he decided to ignore them and focus entirely on the third cycle. Sure enough, this one also contained the same pairings of nobles, but their movements had shifted slightly again. There were some who seemed more confident, others who were more drunk, and even a few that simply had no rhythm at all—as if they had momentarily dozed off and forgotten their next steps.

Even with all of these flaws, the memories he had chronicled regarding their movements were perfectly replaying in his mind, allowing him to recreate them exactly. Though some of them seemed to have arrived from nowhere, he could still for whatever reason feel as if they were truly his memories.

Seriously… Did parallel versions of me [Record] these dances or something? Where did Biblion acquire these memories…

Nevertheless, Soren continued the routine like usual, ending the cycle rather quickly this time compared to the previous two. And much to his surprise, no new memories arrived either! It seemed certain now that the recital had finished.

With the final step taken, he glanced toward the crowd of nobles and bowed ceremoniously, snapping his fingers in the process.

“Ladies and gentlemen. Allow me to conclude this dance with a final showing!”

Excitement and curiosity filled the air once again. Soren, however, was much more keen on observing Camilla’s cold expression. Her eyes were once again full of conviction and hope.

He sighed inwardly. What a dull conclusion…

Pulling out his wand, he waved it in the air slightly and smiled. “Let us begin.”

With a final wave, Soren selected a certain section from that past phenomenon his spell selected. A specific section that strongly steered this history into being:

The masks.

This was Historic Recital’s main power. It allows Soren to select an event from the past that he was knowledgeable enough to recreate through a dance recital and manipulate one single aspect of its existence, rewriting history itself in the process.

And now, he was going to select the masks as that singular aspect. The thing that was responsible for the creation of these games in the first place!

Soren locked gazes with the nobles and smiled. “Well then… I wish you all well in remembering the truth.”

Behind him, the three sets of holographic figures belonging to each cycle began to crack and fracture like glass. The rhythmic path he had traversed began to slither on their own, as if rewriting the very existence of the dances themselves.

Soren then watched the nobles before him—their expressions all turning into some variation of despair or acceptance. The former came in a variety of flavors—there were those who prayed to the gods, others who begged Camilla on their knees for a second chance, and some who even yelled out their mother’s names.

It was far too late for any of that. And it seemed, they had personally known that as well. With their memories fully restored, they were able to recall not just their original identities before acquiring the masks, but also the moment they had died in cataclysm.

It was only then that he understood what had occurred:

“Ynixia must have used Albert to consume their shadows… Though, they were only able to consent to it now unconsciously.” Since the pair were exploring the rest of the castle, it would make sense for her to pass by their nests occasionally.

Soren watched in complete silence, as one by one, the nobles vanished into smoke—leaving only hollowed out masks of their faces that resembled their final expressions. These were their mysterious Remembrances.

“You can keep them.” Camilla said rather calmly. Soren glanced at the young woman again—seeing newfound light within her countenance.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded with a chuckle, “Yes—don’t worry about it. Ynixia will likely need them in the future.”

He paused for a moment, glancing quietly at the pile of skin masks, now scattered across their marble tiles. With a sigh, he shook his head and walked toward them. But just as he was able to inspect and add them to his Spatial Bracelet, a bright flash of light attracted his attention. He shifted his gaze to the left where his Soul Weapon continued to hover—across the shimmering pages, only a few words written in English could be read:

“You’ve escaped the timeloop! Prepare for the next phase!”

Soren furrowed his brows. “What?” He didn’t know whether Biblion was pulling a prank on him or not. But the words definitely triggered his memory. He recalled the strange cycles he had to conduct during the recital!

HIs eyes widened. “There’s no way that’s tru—”

All of a sudden, the banquet hall began to shake violently—pillars and chandeliers cracking and falling from the sheer force. He looked below and saw large cracks emerging from nowhere!

The floor… was shattering. Soren immediately clutched his wand and began channeling the anima for Fairy Barrier’s casting.

It was too late.

Erupting from the rough concrete and floor tiling was a colossal skeletal hybrid wrapped in endless shadows. Soren’s eyes widened as he jumped toward Camilla, making her dodge the incoming debris.

The air immediately filled with dust. He began coughing violently, “What the fuck just happened?”

Looking around with [Eyes of the Fairy], Soren squinted his eyes through the debris clouds. It was hard to see, but he began noticing a strange shadow taking shape, forming a solid silhouette of an armored knight holding a colossal sword. Its eyes which radiated in crimson light seemed to glance at him briefly…

After a few more moments, information from the Beyond finally began to pour into his mystic eyes. Soren’s hands immediately began to tremble.

“O-One of the Twelve Knights? Here?...”