Chapter Forty-Three

    “A breeze in the blue sky, 

     In which swallows use to fly, 

     Scatters the scent of flowers. 

     Oh, sacred blossoms, take these scars, take these tears, 

     And send them fluttering across the spring sky.” 

    Esper sat atop a marble archway in a garden of ruins. She wore a simple white dress and still had bandages covering most of her body. Her right leg swung slowly back and forth over the edge as she sang to herself. 

   “If I wander about ashore, 

     Along the river of fate, 

     Will it bring me back, 

     To the sacred flower’s estate?” 

    A gust of wind sent Esper’s hair and dress fluttering, giving her a small repri