Ana

Solitary Captive

Overview

Transforming from the astute and charming noblewoman Anna to the elegant and formidable Countess of Elvir, she has come to recognize the inescapable fetters that bind her. The blossom yearning for the moon will ultimately perish within the soil of truth.

Chapter One

(1721–1750, Era of Eternal Flame) Born from the need for remembrance and hope, she was named after her ancestor, the Lineage Preserver, Anna.
She was Anna Elin, a special name she had lived up to.
While other noble girls her age tried to be graceful like the adults, little Anna was different.
She sought joy in nature and life, unique yet not lonely. She understood adults well and never caused worry. Soon, everyone knew little Anna Elin as a kind and clever girl.
By 14, Anna became more beautiful, intelligent, and determined as expected. Most importantly, her passion for life remained strong.
That year, Anna made a bold move. She convinced her father to take her to the Sanctuary of Truth to meet the Lord Inquisitor and expressed her desire to be as great as her father, meaning not becoming a Nova.
Though not yet of age, she understood that her words were as solemn as a vow for both her family and the Sanctuary.
She knew that everything in life required effort and sacrifice, and even easy gains would eventually have a cost.
However, she knew her future path was already set.
The Elins arranged marriages for unmarried men and women. Their children also had a crucial duty: to join a dying family, take their surname, and devote their lives to it.
In the two years after starting work, Anna realized that nothing was as easy as she thought, and that wishes often didn't come true.
She spent most of her day working carefully, following strict norms, as if this routine would never end.
Feeling drained, she began to see herself as a caged bird—beautiful yet lifeless.
Yet, her heart burned with intense passion, lighting her path and chasing away her family's lingering shadows.

Chapter Two

"Anna, you have the blood of both Elins and Elvirs. With the Elvir heir gone, you are now to be adopted by them."
Amid a grand feast with soft music, Anna "returned" to the Elvirs for the first time.
It was a vocation she had never considered, with elders she barely knew.
On that fragrant night, moonlight lit the garden as Anna wandered alone, her future obscured by fog.
As a noble Nova, she adhered to her time's norms, aligning her thoughts. This role promised her a fresh sense of purpose.
Entering the Elvir household, she saw a family in decline, just as her father had foretold.
In the dim twilight, she often found the elderly Elvirs in their chairs, sitting apart and intently listening to an unseen source.
She surmised it was the sea's call from their ancient lineage, worrying they might fade like waves crashing into mist.
Eventually, she understood they were listening to the tender creaking of their home. Though perplexed by their rapture, she concluded they must not be drawn to it.
Anna reassured herself her work would continue and her hope would thrive.
When the elders shied away from their roles, Anna stepped in with dedication and creativity, working tirelessly alone. Over time, they were amazed to see her resolve issues effortlessly under her guidance.
And Anna simply stood quietly by, a gentle smile on her face.
She recalled her father's words: "The heir is the pillar that prevents ruin." She had embraced that role, restoring order and routine to the family.
What followed was uneventful—one hope realized, another still far off. Anna waited, her spirit gradually diminishing.
In the grand chamber on the mansion's second floor, Anna grew to dislike the sun. Once proud of her "season of the sun," she felt it now suffocating. She often imagined herself as a spark trapped in a box.
Living like this chilled Anna to the bone. Sometimes, she felt an urge to leap from the window to escape. To resist, she would retreat to bed at night, using wine to soothe her when sleep wouldn't come.
Anna felt something was off and considered talking about it, but the conversations were frustrating: "Will it affect your work?" "I don't know." "Do you need a doctor?
Anna found these conversations abrupt and lacking depth. They felt far from sacred. Yet, reflecting on her first meeting with the Elvirs, she realized they had shared so much more than what followed, which felt so ordinary.
The Nova nobility spoke with cultured efficiency. A brief exchange would suffice, and after formalities, everyone knew what to expect, leading to uneventful days.
Anna's once-enjoyable passion now brought her suffering, akin to surviving in a barren desert, endlessly chasing a mirage that always eluded her.
The backlash of her passion intensified, prompting Anna to exercise restraint. One night, she resolved to ignore it, treating it as something unworthy of her thoughts.
The following day, Anna went about her routine, greeting everyone but feeling no enthusiasm. She accepted that understanding was unnecessary, making her struggle a private matter that wouldn't concern others.
With this final issue resolved, Anna's life would remain unchanged, adhering to the expected routine of her time—no deviations, no mistakes.

Chapter Three

Anna took on the responsibility of managing the Elvirs. After a series of rituals, the world returned to its usual quietness, except for her.
At dusk, Anna gazed out the window by her dressing table. The only sounds during the two hours between dinner and bedtime were the weary sighs of the elderly Elvirs slumped in their chairs. They were filled with disappointment.
Anna Elvir could not get married. As the head of the Elvirs, she needed a husband to join her family, but other noble families lacked suitable heirs. The only family with enough heirs was the Elins, but marrying a cousin was not an option.
Years passed as Anna and the other Elvirs went about their work, hiding their feelings in silence. Unlike Anna, they were indifferent to one another, barely reacting unless it was work-related.
Things could have been better, but Anna struggled to envision a different life. The Elvirs' existence felt as stagnant as the hum of bees.
Was such a life worth living? Could Anna endure a loveless existence? Was it right for her to question her circumstances?
Anna didn't intend to initiate change; she merely found herself trapped in forbidden emotions. Living in such an environment, she felt that any step forward would hurt herself and others, leading her to suppress her passion, believing it was the only solution.
She held back her grief and emotions, feeling pathetic and hurt. It seemed like the world was inherently evil, and she despised it. To escape this thought, she needed something to prove the world wasn't entirely bad, but all she had was herself. Ultimately, she had to unleash her passion.
Her passion, or perhaps love, was intense, and with it came an unreasonable fear for her future. This fear took root deep within her, more than just pain—it was a loneliness born from the gap between her passion and her desire to fit in.
Anna could admire the world and envy its carefree nature, but she couldn't deny her passion. Denying it only deepened her despair.
In a love story she cherished, a prisoner escaped from his tower, but Anna felt lonelier. She was her own prison guard, trapped in a cell unknown to anyone else. She longed for freedom, knowing it was just a dream.
She seemed destined for death, perhaps her only escape, yet her strict duty as a guard kept her tethered.
Having felt passion since her teenage years, she wondered if she was only allowed to care for soulless objects.
After the mysterious disappearance of Lord Deity, the Lord Inquisitor found an unusual man to lead the Oracle Division. Anna was indifferent to the secret behind it; everything outside of work felt meaningless.
Initially uninterested, she was surprised by the lingering impression of his deep, meaningful eyes. He was a graceful yet somber man, a sight she hadn't expected to see in daylight.
Trapped in her own "prison," the attention of the gods meant nothing to her, yet she found herself falling for him. His manner captivated her, and she felt joy.
Did he awaken something within her? Regardless, Anna sought any excuse to see him, albeit from a distance. Having witnessed enough tragedies, she knew she had to avoid hurting either of them. Yet his face haunted her thoughts, leading to restless nights filled with longing.
Day by day, her maidenly affection faded until she could no longer contain it. She indulged in fantasies of love.
When Anna saw him speaking with Novas, jealousy ignited within her.
If only she had chosen to become a Nova! But what was done was done. Perhaps she could win him over in a way that harmed both herself and many others.
Alternatively, she could retreat to her cell and waste her life away, like a canary gazing at the sky from her dark cage.
She faced two choices: to betray or to sacrifice. Betrayal could lead to glory or execution, while sacrifice would keep her pure in the eyes of others, her passion seen as noble rather than troublesome.
Should she devote herself to the struggle between desire and reality or return to her prison, shackled?
Even as she hesitated, love filled Anna's sensitive heart. Her "fellow Elvirs" attacked her with their arguments, but with her focus on him, they easily got what they wanted.
That's when she began to err. It started with misery as her peers exchanged derogatory nicknames. Yet, she soon saw them as unworthy. She believed it was the right time to realize her love stemmed from an ambition to possess him.
This ambition could lead to failure or destruction. There might be fleeting success, but at a steep price. So what? She felt fortunate to pursue such a noble, handsome lover.
Anna took her risks. Nothing was certain, and danger was her only companion. A caged bird like her had never fought such a risky battle, thrilling and intoxicating her. She believed in herself, looking down on those who had failed.
But her passionate love did not ease her loneliness. He told her that, dazzled by love, she had crossed a line between passion and horror.
With her wings clipped, Anna plummeted into the deep abyss of loneliness.

Historical Notes

The Unique Nature of Aster Anna:
Those who hear Anna sing feel intense guilt, often left dazed and haunted by strange dreams.
Is this similar to Belle's situation?

The Power of the Apostle:
In battle, Anna's magic wasn't what stood out—it was her movements, her voice, her gentle whispers, creating an irresistible charm.
Subsequent comparative analysis reveals that this enchantment is neither a product of any known magic nor a natural phenomenon. This mystery remains unresolved and has been cataloged among phenomena awaiting explanation.
I wonder, could this enchantment be a manifestation of Anna's abilities as an Apostle? Its effects, however, seem less overt than Belle's powers.
Following the hypothesis in Belle's file, could it be that an Apostle's abilities are not necessarily about raw power, but their unique nature?

On the Title of Apostle:
In ancient texts, I found the term "Apostolos," meaning "one who is sent." This likely is the origin of the word "Apostle."
Historically, those defined as Apostles were often linked to religion. They played decisive roles in significant events, thereby earning the title.
If Anna and Belle, these Apostles, are "sent ones," then who sent them?
If they are "sent," is there a corresponding mission? Or is there a purpose tied to their special abilities?
If my hypothesis is correct, the existence of an Apostle carries a certain critical significance. It is not merely immense power that qualifies one as an Apostle; rather, each Apostle must have a necessary role. They are either an indispensable element or a decisive factor.