Chapter 184 Erik And Saraya

On the final night before the visit to the Council, Silver Moon was unusually quiet.

The wind passed through the garden behind Meira’s home, stirring the pale purple lavender bushes and carrying the scent of damp earth and gentle flowers.

Above, the scarred protective dome cast down a faint silvery glow, like moonlight filtered through an old sheet of silk. Crickets chirped beneath the bushes, while the sound of wind chimes hanging from the porch drifted from afar.

Saraya sat alone on a wooden bench beneath the flower arbor.

She wore one of Vylana’s thin sweaters, too large for her, its sleeves reaching all the way to her fingertips. Her injured shoulder had improved greatly, only aching faintly whenever the weather changed. She could not sleep.

Since hearing that Erik would visit the Council at noon tomorrow, it felt as though a cord within her chest had been tightening, tighter and tighter.

Footsteps sounded along the gravel path.

Saraya looked up. Her heart seemed to stop for a beat.

"You’re not asleep yet?"

Erik stood several steps away, both hands tucked into his coat pockets, his black hair slightly disheveled by the wind. The silver light from the dome fell over his shoulders, making that face feel both familiar and strangely distant.

"I... couldn’t sleep." Saraya hurriedly tugged at the hem of her sweater, as though trying to hide some of her unease. "What about you?"

"Same." Erik walked over and sat at the other end of the wooden bench. There was enough space between them for another person to sit. "How is your shoulder? Is it really all right now?"

"It’s fine." She gently moved her shoulder, then frowned slightly. "Mm... almost fine."

Erik laughed softly. "You still don’t know how to lie."

Saraya lowered her head, her cheeks growing warm. She could not remember the last time he had smiled at her like that. Perhaps it had been before she had destroyed everything with her own hands.

For a long while, neither of them spoke. There were only crickets, wind moving through the flower bushes, and the distant tinkling of wind chimes.

Then Saraya spoke softly, her voice so quiet it was as if she feared breaking the night.

"Erik... can I ask you something?"

"Mm."

"That night..." She clenched both hands inside the sweater sleeves. "When the kitchen shelf fell, I rushed forward and pushed Vylana away. I didn’t think about anything. I didn’t think about whether I would get hurt or die. My legs simply ran toward her on their own."

She lifted her head, looking into the empty space ahead.

"These past few days in bed, I kept thinking about it. Why did I do that? I used to be someone who was very afraid of pain. In the past, even a small cut on my finger would make me complain for the entire day."

Erik did not answer. He only looked at her and waited.

"Then I remembered seeing Vylana standing beneath that shelf." Saraya’s voice trembled. "There was only one thought in my head. No. I can’t let her get hurt. That feeling... hurt more than any wound on my body."

She took a deep breath. Her breathing broke, catching in her throat.

"That was... worry, right?"

Erik did not answer. He merely nodded slightly.

The wind passed by. A lavender petal fell onto her shoulder.

"And then I realized..." Saraya turned to look at him. Her eyes had brimmed with tears. "Back then, you were like that with me too."

Erik paused slightly.

"You stayed awake all night when I had a fever. You ran all over the city just to buy the pastry I casually said I was craving. You stood in front of me whenever someone said something unpleasant." Each word left her lips slowly, as though cutting into her own heart. "And I... treated it all as a matter of course. I thought you did those things because you were a man, because you wanted to keep me by your side. I never thought that... you were simply worried about me."

Tears rolled down her cheeks, glittering beneath the silver light.

"I was so selfish, wasn’t I? It took doing the same thing for someone else before I understood how you must have felt."

Erik was silent for a long time.

Then he smiled softly. It was neither a polite smile nor a bitter one. It was a very gentle, warm smile, like a teacher who had just watched their student finally solve the hardest problem.

"Yes," he said. "You’re on the right path now."

Saraya froze.

"But..." Erik reached out and gently brushed the lavender petal from her shoulder. "Next time, remember to care about yourself too. Worrying about others is good. But if you collapse, then the person you want to protect will hurt just as you once did."

He paused for a moment.

"Vylana cried beside your bed for four days."

Saraya bit her lip. She nodded, then nodded again, as though afraid he would not believe her if she nodded only once.

"I understand. I’ll remember."

Another silence fell.

Saraya looked down at her hands clenched within the sweater sleeves. Her heart was beating so hard that she was afraid he could hear it. A question had been lodged in her throat for so many days and nights. She was afraid to ask it. Afraid to hear the answer.

But if she did not ask now, tomorrow he would leave for a place where no one knew what awaited him.

"Erik." Her voice was so soft it nearly vanished into the wind. "Do... do I still have a chance?"

The crickets seemed to fall silent.

Erik turned to look at her. His gaze was calm, neither angry nor pitying.

Then he nodded.

Saraya felt all the air in her chest burst free. But before she could rejoice, he continued, slowly and clearly.

"But it will be very difficult."

She froze.

"There are cracks between us, Saraya." Erik looked up at the sky, where silver scars still quietly shimmered. "Like that sky dome. It can be mended, but the scars will still remain. I cannot pretend nothing ever happened. Neither can you."

He turned back to look at her.

"If you want to start over, you will have to pursue me. Not me pursuing you like before. And that road will be long, tiring, and perhaps there will be times when you want to give up."

Saraya looked directly into his eyes.

In the past, hearing words like that, she would probably have been angry, felt insulted, and turned her back to leave. But now, she only felt warmth spread through her chest.

Because he had not said no.

"I’m not afraid."

She spoke, her voice trembling but every word clear.

"In the past, you took countless steps toward me. This time, I will walk toward you instead. No matter how long it takes, no matter how difficult it is." She tightened her hands. "I’m not afraid."

Erik looked at her for a long time. Then the corner of his lips curved upward slightly.

"All right."

Saraya smiled, tears still lingering on her eyelashes. Then she hesitated, her hands hidden within her sweater sleeves shifting faintly.

"Then... can I hug you for a little while? Just for a moment."

Erik did not answer. He only opened his arms wide.

Saraya moved closer, slowly and timidly, like a small cat still unsure whether it was allowed to enter the house. Then she buried her face in his chest.

Warmth.

The scent of soap, the night wind, and a trace of chamomile tea lingering from dinner. His heartbeat pulsed steadily beside her ear, slow and firm, like a promise that did not need to be spoken aloud.

And then Saraya burst into tears.

Not silent tears like that morning in the living room. This time, she truly cried. She sobbed, cried until her shoulders shook violently, cried like a child forgotten outside in the rain for too long who had finally been carried inside.

She cried for those nights curled up in a dark room at the bar. For the times she had stood at a distance and watched him smile at someone else. For the moment she thought she would never again be allowed to touch this warmth even once.

All the grievance, regret, and fear she had held down for so many months now spilled out against his chest.

Erik said nothing. He only held her, one hand gently patting her back, the other resting in her hair, letting her cry until she had no tears left.

On his chest, beneath his thin shirt, a small petal in the guiding mark warmed again. Still gentle like midday summer sunlight. Still familiar like a forgotten dream.

Erik closed his eyes.

This was the second time. Both times, it had happened while Saraya was in his arms. He remembered the Lord of Seasons’ words: when close to a season, that season’s petal would grow warm.

Summer. Perhaps... it was her.

But the girl sobbing in his arms had only just managed to stand again after months of falling apart. If he told her now, the burden of an entire city would fall upon those shoulders before her wounds had even healed. Besides, Autumn was still nowhere to be found.

Erik tightened his embrace slightly and remained silent.

Some things could wait until later.

...

It was impossible to tell how long it took before the sobs gradually subsided.

Saraya slowly pulled away. Her eyes were swollen and red, her nose red as well, and her face was streaked with tears, leaving none of the proud bearing of the S-Rank Succubus she had once been. She hurriedly used the sweater sleeve to wipe her face, only smearing it more and more.

"Sorry... I got your shirt all wet."

Erik looked at the tear-soaked part of his shirt over his chest, then laughed. "It’s all right. Consider it the first step on the long road ahead."

Saraya stared blankly for a second, then laughed too, laughing while sniffling.

Erik stood and lightly dusted off the hem of his shirt.

"Go to sleep. The night wind is cold, and your shoulder has not fully healed."

"Mm." Saraya nodded. But when he turned to leave, she called out softly again.

"Erik."

He stopped.

"Tomorrow..." She pressed her lips together. "You have to come back."

Erik did not turn around. He only raised one hand and gave a small wave.

"Mm."

His back gradually vanished behind the lavender bushes. Saraya remained alone beneath the flower arbor, both arms wrapped around her knees as she looked at the scarred sky dome for a long time.

For the first time in many months, her chest felt light.