Chapter 137: Goldy Boy [1]
The wind whispered through the courtyard, rustling branches and sending fallen leaves skittering across the cobblestones.
Behind one of the older trees, a silver-haired girl sat with her back resting against the trunk, her long strands swaying with each playful breeze. A book rested in her hands, purple eyes calmly trailing over its pages.
Her expression was serene, though not quite joyful, more the quiet peace of someone trying to hold her thoughts at bay.
Tap! Tap!
Then the sound of footsteps approached from the side came. Steady and unhurried. She didn’t bother looking up, she didn’t need to, as...
"Here."
A golden-haired girl dropped down beside her, holding out a small bundle wrapped in cloth.
"Better eat before it gets cold. I had to get in line for ages to grab it, so don’t say I don’t spoil you." She added.
Lyria finally closed her book and put it down, a small, genuine smile tugging at her lips as she accepted it. "Thank you."
The golden-haired girl nodded, already munching on her own portion.
"Don’t mention it. Just remember me when you’re famous or terrifying or... whatever you’re aiming for."
Lyria gave a soft laugh under her breath, unwrapping the bundle to reveal warm bread stuffed with some veggies and meat. She took a careful bite, savoring the warmth.
Things hadn’t been easy lately.
Whispers in the back, the pressure of expectations she hadn’t chosen, all clung to her like shadows.
But beside her, this friend remained. Always quick with a comment, always steady in her presence. Lyria would never say it aloud, her pride wouldn’t allow it, but she liked having her here. Needed it, even.
She leaned back against the tree once more, letting the simple comfort of shared food and company ease the weight in her chest.
The quiet bubble around them cracked as a group of students wandered down the path nearby, their voices carrying easily in the garden air.
"Those elves, they’re really too proud to admit their defeat," said a dark-haired boy with sharp blue eyes, his tone laced with mild annoyance.
"Yeah, man," the pale-skinned one beside him agreed. "So what if one of them got their ass handed to them? Doesn’t mean they can gang up on the guy who beat them."
"What was his name again?" a third boy asked, brow furrowed. "He looked—"
"Very handsome, right?" a girl cut in with a soft giggle, covering her mouth.
Both boys groaned. "Don’t start that."
"Oh, what? You fell for him already?" one teased.
She tilted her head with a sly smile. "Who knows?"
Another boy scoffed. "Please. He looked like a complete playboy to me."
"Still, what was his name though... I forgot," the third muttered.
"Alaric Glimor," the girl answered, with the casual certainty of someone who’d already committed it to memory.
Their voices faded as the group disappeared down the walkway, laughter echoing faintly.
Sera brushed her hands together, the last crumbs gone, and leaned back against the tree trunk. A content sigh escaped her lips, and she stretched her arms above her head with a smile.
"Mm. That was good."
Turning her head, she noticed Lyria hadn’t moved for a while.
Her friend’s half-eaten bread sat untouched in her lap, purple eyes fixed on it in silence.
Sera blinked, tilting her head. "What’s wrong?"
Lyria startled faintly, then shook her head, strands of platinum hair slipping forward like a curtain. "Ugh... no. Nothing."
Sera tilted her head, studying her friend with those ever-bright, blindfolded eyes.
"Are you sure? You look pretty—"
"I am fine," Lyria cut her off quickly. The words were clipped, but her hands betrayed her, fingers twitching against the bread in her lap.
Sera’s gaze softened, but she didn’t press. Instead, she looked down at the half-eaten piece and puffed her cheeks.
"Then why aren’t you finishing this? You’re completely wasting it. Bread doesn’t grow on trees, you know... well, okay, technically it sort of does, but—"
Lyria sighed and pushed the bread toward her. "Here. You can have it then."
"Are you sure you don’t want it?" Sera asked, voice full of concern, though her hand was already reaching.
When Lyria didn’t stop her, she brightened, snatched it, and took a bite. "Okay, then I’ll help you. No problem."
Before Lyria could respond, Sera popped the rest into her mouth all at once, cheeks bulging like a squirrel.
The sight drew a quiet chuckle from Lyria.
She shook her head. "You’re unbelievable."
Sera chewed furiously, pointing to herself as if to argue. Once she swallowed, she wagged a finger. "Hey! I asked you first!"
That earned another faint shake of Lyria’s head, a softer one this time.
"It’s fine," she murmured, leaning back against the tree trunk.
She exhaled and closed her eyes.
But then suddenly, darkness, engulfed her.
Then changed into...
A cold, echoing chamber. A man sprawled on the floor, blood spreading beneath him like spilled ink. The sound of sharp, cruel, endless laughter, bounced off marble walls. All of them watching her.
Her chest tightened.
Her eyes snapped open.
The breeze was still there, gentle against her skin. Leaves rustled overhead. Sera was humming lightly beside her, wiping crumbs from her mouth with a sleeve.
Lyria wiped the beads of sweat from her forehead, forcing her breathing into something steadier.
Why?
Her mind hissed. Why now? I’m not even sleeping...
They had stopped, at least mostly after the Archpriestess’s had helped her subdue them. From then, these nightmares didn’t come much and eventually at a point, stopped. But now they were creeping back into her waking moments.
She shook her head hard, as though she could physically scatter the shadows away.
Then exhaling, slowly and steadily.
She closed her eyes again and tried to anchor herself to the present, the whisper of wind, the warmth of sunlight, the quiet rustle of leaves.
Focus. Just focus on now. Not then. Not there.
Her breathing had become to turn normal.
But then...
Garrr!
Her eyes snapped open. She turned her head, only to see Sera clutching her stomach with both hands, cheeks flushing beneath her golden hair.
"That wasn’t me!" Sera blurted, hurried, as if accused of a crime.
Lyria blinked at her.
Then, against her will, the corners of her mouth twitched.
"You eat a lot," she said quietly, almost deadpan.
Sera’s cheeks went red.
"I do not!" She puffed her cheeks and turned her head away, golden hair swishing with the motion.
That did it.
Lyria’s quiet chuckle slipped free from her lips. She covered her face with her hand.
Sera crossed her arms, still flustered.
"I haven’t eaten since morning, okay? And we had physical training! Those were just two tiny pieces. You can’t blame me."
Lyria let the laugh fade into a faint smile, then stood up, brushing off her skirt.
"Fine. I’m hungry too. Let’s go to the dining hall." She adjusted the closed book to her side and extended a hand towards her.
In an instant, Sera’s pout vanished.
Her face lit up like sunlight breaking through clouds.
She bounced to her feet and eagerly grabbed Lyria’s hand.
"Then come on!" she said, tugging her forward with surprising strength.
Lyria allowed herself to be pulled along, shaking her head lightly, but not letting go.
As they walked down the corridor, Sera gradually slowed her bouncing steps.
The childish glow in her eyes dimmed, her smile softening into serene expression. By the time they reached the dining hall doors, she was no longer tugging Lyria along but walking beside her with quiet poise.
Inside, the murmur of voices, the clatter of dishes, and the aroma of warm food filled the air. Sera slipped into her mask of composure as naturally as breathing, her back straight, her expression calm, every movement measured.
She collected her portion with practiced elegance, thanking the server with a polite nod. Then she moved to a table near the window.
Without a word, she folded her hands briefly, then picked up her utensils and began eating, each bite neat and deliberate. While Lyria sat across from her, quietly finishing her own meal.
Then a boy with golden-brown hair moved past their table, scanning the hall for an empty seat.
His plate wobbled slightly in his hand as he navigated between rows of benches. Spotting a vacant spot near the corner, he quickened his pace a little.
Just as he reached it, another student at the same table stood abruptly, shifting back without looking. The boy tried to sidestep, but his elbow clipped the other’s arm. The tray rattled, a bit of stew splashing onto the edge.
"Watch it!" the other student snapped, slamming his own plate down on the table. He shoved the golden-brown-haired boy in the chest with a flat palm. "Can’t you walk properly?"
The boy stumbled back a step, gripping his tray tightly to keep it from spilling. His jaw clenched, but he said nothing immediately, the hall’s noise swallowing the brief tension between them.