Her Silent Tears
“Haa.”
After finishing dinner, I climbed the stairs to the room Lady Gera had prepared and spent the next several minutes simply staring at the crystal resting in my palm.
Lady Gera had welcomed us warmly. Lunch had consisted of the very dishes Rowell and I had loved as children, and afterward we spent the afternoon reminiscing with the two of them. A few topics were deliberately avoided out of consideration for me, which made some moments awkward, yet the time still felt pleasant.
Especially after meeting the queen, Aegina had changed out of the dress she arrived in and into the simpler clothes she used to wear at the palace. Standing before the two elders, she had no choice but to endure our teasing questions with awkward answers and a face that grew redder by the second, her head bowed in silence. Even though both Sir Levrant and Lady Gera already knew the queen’s personality and Aegina’s own tendencies, it seemed that facing one’s in-laws was difficult even for her.
The real problem, however, was that Lady Gera had taken a liking to the “special powder” Aegina had sent last time. She praised how well the bread rose and how rich the flavor had become, then asked for more. Aegina beamed at the request while Rowell and I could only exchange complicated smiles.
One of Lady Gera’s merchant acquaintances had even suggested turning the powder into a commercial product. I wondered whether the woman would still have made that proposal if she knew exactly what the ingredients were.
Dinner featured a whole roast duck. Bagloros kept repeating “Could I have a little more?” and “Thank you very much” in a perfectly natural tone while clearing plate after plate—though the voice itself was not his own.
Later that night, Rowell and Aegina took the reports Aegina had brought from the capital and retired to their room. They would probably spend an hour or two reviewing the documents and exchanging opinions before finally going to sleep. It might even take longer.
Normally I would have been reading those same papers, but Aegina had brought only a small stack and had already told me we would begin tomorrow. For tonight, at least, I was free.
After bidding everyone good night, I entered my room, yet sleep was out of the question. She would be waiting.
“Huu.”
I steadied my breathing, then whispered the activation words to the crystal. Not much time had passed since my last visit, and I had already left instructions, so I wanted to believe she had not been worried. Still, the one trapped inside that narrow space was not me.
The scenery shifted. The air changed. I stood once more inside Denatel’s library, surrounded by familiar bookshelves, dim lighting, and neatly arranged ornaments.
“You’re treating me like an afterthought these days, aren’t you?”
As expected, her voice was colder than usual. Even so, by ordinary standards it still sounded lively.
“I couldn’t help it. Things grew more complicated than I anticipated. After that, I was constantly with the others.”
“Right. I figured as much.”
Yet the expression on her face remained dissatisfied.
“So what happened? Did you rescue the summoner? Did you deal with those Dark Temple people?”
I hesitated, unsure how much to reveal—whether to mention Urshus at all, and if so, how far to go.
“……?”
She did not show it openly, but her eyes held a quiet mixture of joy and anticipation. A tangle of guilt, strange pleasure, and other conflicting emotions brushed through my mind and chest.
“…Actually,” I said, deciding to tell her everything: my connection to Urshus, his offer, and the prophecy I had seen in the vision.
“Urshus… you…?”
She was visibly shocked to learn that Urshus had tried to use me as his proxy or conduit. For a moment she scanned me from head to toe, then stared directly at my face, her expression cycling through suspicion, hurt, and questions about why I had not told her sooner—or why she had failed to notice.
She quickly regained her composure and spoke with grave seriousness.
“No.”
Her tone was so earnest that I nearly nodded without thinking.
“No to what, exactly?”
“Becoming Urshus’s proxy. You mustn’t. You’ll stop being you.”
She repeated the words several times, as though seeking a firm promise, and in that moment she looked like a frightened child.
“You don’t need to worry. I already understand that. That’s why, ever since Antares, I never once called upon Urshus—even at the very end with Nyx.”
Yet her expression did not soften. Her gaze drifted toward the corner of the library where the forbidden tomes still lay unopened since that day.
“You must never accept him. Just because you defeated an incomplete Nyx doesn’t mean you can be careless. The gods are never—”
I placed one hand against the barrier. She stopped speaking and looked at me. There was little I could say, and even less I could do while the wall remained between us. Offering empty reassurance felt almost laughable.
“You don’t need to worry. As I’ve told you many times, I know my own limits. Even if only for an instant, I saw Urshus’s soul. I won’t make the same mistake again.”
Her eyes gradually steadied, though a trace of unease lingered. Whether it stemmed from the influence gods held over demons or from her deeper understanding of their true power as a high-ranking demon, she was afraid. More afraid than I had ever seen her in all our fragmented conversations.
“…You don’t understand. Unlike Nyx, Urshus is a god of relentless obsession. He will never give up. And he said it himself—his preparations are complete.”
Yes. He had said exactly that. All preparations were finished.
“I don’t know what he prepared, but it won’t end easily.”
“Gods do not lie. Yes, I know that.”
Still, whatever he had prepared would not change what I had to do.
“Even so, there is nothing he can do. We survived the threat of the world’s destruction. What more could possibly happen?”
He no longer possessed a proper vessel, and his influence over the Lyvern clones appeared broken. The only forces left to him were the remnants of the Dark Temple. What could they possibly accomplish? Even if they tried something, my companions would be there to help.
“You understand nothing!”
Her sudden shout was accompanied by black flames and crimson lightning that slammed against the barrier.
“Nyx’s goal was simply to return this world to its great cycle. That was why she built the Tower of Destruction and prioritized preparing her vessel. That was why you were given time!”
Her voice rose. No more flames or lightning struck the wall, but her gaze had become so intense it was difficult to meet.
“Urshus is different. Right now, he has his sights set on you alone. Don’t forget—he is a god! No one knows what he is truly capable of!”
She was angry with me, scolding me for my foolishness.
“Please calm down. There’s no need to get so worked up—”
Before I could finish, I realized my mistake, but it was already too late.
“……”
She bit her lip. Pale flames flickered around her body, and a thick killing intent poured out, as though she might shatter the barrier at any moment.
“No need to get worked up? No need? Are you telling me not to get angry?”
“No, Rofena. That isn’t what I meant—”
“You show up after nearly a week and instead of apologizing, you say what? That Urshus of all people is targeting you and there’s nothing to worry about? That you already know everything? What exactly do you know?”
Black flames surged upward, engulfing her entire form. Yet even as they burned, the emotion in her voice and eyes was not simple rage.
“‘No need to get angry’? What kind of nonsense is that? You’re going to stop visiting me altogether. Do you have any idea what I’ll be thinking every single time?”
The flames receded. Her shoulders trembled, and her voice shook at the edges. She made no attempt to hide it.
“You already know how I feel.”
Those words pierced straight through my chest. Guilt. Elation. A twisted, shameful satisfaction. Everything mixed together until my head felt feverish.
“……”
I stared at her in silence. She said nothing more. No flames, no lightning. She simply looked at me, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Trapped in that suffocating heat that burned both my face and my thoughts, I felt an overwhelming urge to run. My body moved with agonizing slowness while time around me raced forward. Or perhaps only my mind was racing far faster than usual.
Either way, it did not matter. What remained unchanged was that, within this frozen silence and rigid time, I stood there—powerless and incompetent.
‘Do something!’
My own voice screamed inside my head. Yes, I had to do something. But what? Offer empty words of comfort? Or simply flee? How long was I supposed to continue this pathetic deception?
She was crying. I was the one who had made her cry. It was my cowardice and my warped, selfish desire that had allowed this strange relationship to persist and driven her to this point.
Slowly, I reached out toward one of the ornaments in the library—toward the spirit bound within the spell I had placed.