The air was heavy in the infirmary, thick with the lingering scent of healing salves and the faint hum of magical wards. Sera stirred first, her body aching as if it had been torn apart and stitched back together. She winced, slowly opening her eyes to the dim, golden light filtering through the room. She blinked a few times, disoriented, her mind still caught in flashes of crimson fury and the chaotic clash of blades. Her hand instinctively went to her ribs, the dull ache reminding her of the price she had paid. She turned her head to the side and froze. Noctis lay on the bed beside hers, pale and unmoving. His chest rose and fell faintly, but his body bore the signs of a brutal battle. His bandages were stained with blood that even the healers had struggled to stop.
Sera's heart clenched as she looked at him. Memories of the fight—his broken body lying on the ground, her desperate rage, the blood she'd spilled in his name—came rushing back. She bit her lip, holding back the sting of tears. "I… I saved him," she whispered to herself, though the words sounded hollow. "Why does it feel like I've still lost something?
Days turned into weeks, then into months.
Sera recovered faster than she had expected, though the toll of the battle weighed heavily on her. She visited Noctis every day, sitting by his bedside and watching over him as the healers worked tirelessly to mend his wounds. Her concern grew with each passing day he didn't wake. She would talk to him, recounting little stories about her training or teasing him about his inability to dodge Adrian's halberd. But no matter what she said, Noctis remained still, a ghost of the warrior he once was. The psycho girl, whose name Sera had learned was Alaira, had visited once. She'd lingered in the doorway, her unsettling smile replaced with something softer. She'd stared at Noctis for a long time before leaving without a word. It was Sera who remained steadfast, despite the tension building in the air around her.
I woke up slowly, the world around me a blur of golden light and muffled sounds. My body felt like it had been crushed, burned, and put back together with jagged pieces. The dull ache in my chest was constant, but it was the weight on my soul that felt the heaviest.
Where am I? What happened?
I forced my eyes to open fully, blinking against the brightness. The first thing I saw was Lilith sitting beside me, her wide eyes filling with tears the moment our gazes met. "Noctis!" she cried, throwing herself onto me in a tight hug. Pain flared through my torso, but I didn't have the heart to push her away. Her small frame trembled as she sobbed into my shoulder. "You're awake… You're awake! You scared me!" "Lilith," I croaked, my voice hoarse and weak. "I'm… okay." But even as I said it, I wasn't sure if it was true. My head felt foggy, and fragments of the battle replayed in my mind—the scythe user, Sera, blood, the light… It all felt like a twisted dream. I looked around slowly, my gaze landing on my parents. My father stood tall, his arms crossed, while my mother's hands were clasped tightly in front of her. They looked relieved, but there was a stiffness in their posture that didn't sit right. Then I saw her—Sera, sitting quietly on the opposite side of the bed. Her head was bowed, her hands fidgeting in her lap. Something about her seemed… different. She wasn't smiling, wasn't meeting my eyes. "Sera," I murmured, my heart clenching at the sight of her. "You're here… You're okay." She gave me a faint, almost forced smile. "Of course I'm here. I wasn't going to leave you."
Before I could say anything else, my mother's voice cut through the moment like a blade.
"It's surprising you even have the nerve to sit there," she said, her tone icy. I turned my head sharply toward her, confusion and anger bubbling up inside me. "What? What are you talking about?" Sera flinched, her small smile disappearing as she stared down at her hands. "You didn't see it," my father said, his voice cold. "The chaos she unleashed in that arena. The reckless, monstrous power she used. If she hadn't drawn so much attention to herself—" "She was protecting me!" I snapped, my voice louder than I intended. Pain lanced through my chest, but I didn't care. "If she hadn't stepped in, I'd be dead right now. How can you hold that against her?" "She saved you, yes," my mother said, her expression tight. "But at what cost? Do you realize what people are saying? A girl with dark, uncontrollable power, leaving destruction in her wake? She's a liability, Noctis." "
A liability?" I repeated, disbelief and anger flaring up. "She fought with everything she had, even when she was hurt, even when she was terrified! She gave everything to save me, and you're calling her a monster?"
I looked back at Sera, hoping she would defend herself, but she stayed silent. Her shoulders were tense, and her eyes remained fixed on the floor. "Sera," I said softly, trying to catch her gaze. "You don't have to listen to this. They don't understand—"
"It's okay," she interrupted, her voice trembling. She stood slowly, her movements stiff. "I don't want to cause any more problems." I reached out toward her, panic rising in my chest. "Sera, wait—" But she didn't. She turned and walked out of the room, her head bowed, her steps unsteady.
As the door closed behind her, my mother let out a sigh of relief. "Finally," she muttered. "That girl is nothing but trouble." I felt something snap inside me. "She's not trouble!" I shouted, my voice raw with emotion. "She's brave, loyal, and stronger than anyone I've ever met. How can you talk about her like that after everything she's done?"
"Noctis," my father said sternly, his tone dripping with authority. "You're still recovering. This isn't the time for emotional outbursts."
"No," I said, my voice shaking. "You don't get to do this. You don't get to stand there and judge her when she's the reason I'm still alive. You didn't see what I saw. She's not a monster. She's a hero." My mother's expression hardened. "A hero? Do you think the nobles will see it that way? Do you think the council will overlook what she did?"
"I don't care what they think," I said, glaring at her. "I care about the truth. And the truth is, Sera risked everything for me. She didn't care about politics or reputations. She cared about saving my life. That's more than I can say for some people."
Lilith, who had been quiet until now, spoke up.
"I like her," she said, her voice small but firm. "She makes Noctis happy. Isn't that what matters?"
"Lilith," my father said, his tone softening slightly as he addressed her. "You're too young to understand—"
"No," I interrupted, cutting him off. "She understands more than you do." My father's jaw tightened, but he didn't argue.
As my family left the room, I lay back against the pillows, my mind racing. The image of Sera's defeated expression as she walked away was burned into my memory. She saved my life, and now she's being treated like she's the villain. My fists clenched at my sides. I wouldn't let this stand. Sera had given everything for me, and I would do the same for her. "I'll fix this," I muttered to myself, my resolve hardening. "Whatever it takes, I'll make this right." And with that promise, a new fire burned within me—a fire fueled by gratitude, loyalty, and the fierce determination to protect the person who had always protected me.
The room fell silent after Sera's departure, leaving me alone with my thoughts once more. My chest felt tight, like a weight was pressing down on it. I wanted to believe I was done with Veylara, that her whispers wouldn't haunt me again. But the air felt different—heavier, colder. I shifted uncomfortably in the bed, the soft creak of the mattress the only sound. A faint, almost imperceptible chill brushed against my neck, and I froze. "You really are stubborn, aren't you?" Her voice came again, melodic and haunting, like a lullaby meant to soothe and unsettle all at once. My body stiffened as I turned my head, already knowing what I'd see. Veylara stood at the foot of my bed, her shimmering veils cascading around her like liquid starlight. Her golden eyes burned brighter than before, their intensity almost painful to look at. "I told you," I said, my voice hoarse. "I'm not interested in your offers." Her lips curved into a sly smile, her expression somewhere between amused and exasperated. "Oh, Noctis. Do you really think you can dismiss me so easily? I admire your conviction, truly. But conviction alone won't save you—or them." I narrowed my eyes. "Them?"
She stepped closer, her veils swaying with an otherworldly grace. "Sera. Your family. The people you care about. Do you think they'll always be safe? That you can protect them forever? You've seen the cracks in the foundation, haven't you? The growing tensions, the enemies lurking in the shadows."
"I'll deal with it," I said firmly, though my voice wavered slightly. She laughed softly, the sound both soothing and unnerving. "You say that, but deep down, you know you're not enough—not yet. You're afraid, Noctis. Afraid of losing them. Afraid of failing." Her words hit like a punch to the gut, and I clenched my fists, trying to steady my breathing. "Even if that's true, I won't take shortcuts. I'll get stronger on my own."
"And how long will that take?" she asked, her voice low and almost mournful. "How many more battles will you have to fight, how many more scars will you collect, before you realize you could have had the strength you needed all along? I'm not offering you shortcuts, Noctis. I'm offering you certainty." I glared at her, trying to keep my resolve intact. "You're offering me chains." She tilted her head, her smile faltering for the first time. "Chains? Is that what you think of me?" Her voice softened, tinged with what sounded like genuine sadness. "I am offering you freedom, Noctis. Freedom from doubt, from fear, from the endless struggle. You could be so much more than what you are now."
"Why do you care so much?" I asked, my voice rising with frustration. "What do you really want from me?" Her golden eyes softened, and for a moment, she looked almost human. "Because I see myself in you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I see the same fire, the same drive to protect what matters most. But I also see the cracks, Noctis. The same cracks that led to my downfall. I don't want that for you." The room grew colder as her gaze bore into mine, her expression both pleading and unyielding. "You think you're alone in this, but you're not. I can help you. Together, we can make sure no one ever threatens what you hold dear again." Her words were like a knife twisting in my chest, each one cutting deeper than the last. She spoke of things I hadn't even admitted to myself—my fear of failing, of losing the people I cared about. The weight of it all pressed down on me, suffocating. But then I thought of Sera, of the way she had stood by me, fought for me, believed in me. I thought of my family, flawed and difficult, but still my family. And I thought of the path I had chosen—not an easy one, but one I could walk with my head held high.
"No," I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. "I don't need you, Veylara. I'll figure this out on my own." Her expression darkened, the softness in her eyes replaced by a cold, calculating glare. "You're making a mistake," she said, her voice like ice. "You think you can do this without me, but you'll see. When the time comes, when you're standing on the edge of ruin, you'll remember this moment. And you'll wish you had listened." Her form began to fade, the veils dissolving into shadows that swirled around the room. Her golden eyes lingered for a moment longer, burning with a mixture of anger and sorrow, before disappearing completely. The room was silent once more, but the weight of her presence still lingered. I exhaled shakily, running a hand through my hair as I tried to steady myself. The door creaked open, and Sera stepped inside, her brow furrowing as she looked at me. "You okay?" she asked, her voice laced with concern. I forced a weak smile. "Yeah. Just… thinking." She didn't look convinced, but she didn't press further. Instead, she walked over to the table and picked up her hair clip, holding it up with a sheepish smile. "Forgot this earlier."
I nodded, watching as she clipped it back into her hair. Her presence was a welcome relief, grounding me in a way I couldn't quite explain. "You sure you're okay?" she asked again, her voice softer this time. "I'm fine," I said, though my voice wavered slightly. "Just tired." She hesitated, her eyes searching mine, but eventually nodded. "Alright. Try to get some rest. I'll check on you later." As she left the room, I leaned back against the pillows, my mind racing. Veylara's words echoed in my head, her promises and threats intertwining like a twisted melody. I had resisted her again, but for how long? How many more times could I turn her away before the cracks she spoke of became too deep to ignore?