CHAPTER 85
The following morning, golden sunlight spilled softly through the curtains.
Sorayael stirred awake with a heaviness in her chest, but her breathing no longer hurt. She sat up, brushing silver strands behind her ear, and quietly made her way to Krios’ room.
He was still tangled in his blankets, face smushed to the side of his pillow.
She gently knocked on the wooden frame of the bedpost.
He blinked slowly, confused. “Ate…?”
Krios rubbed his eyes. “Where…?”
As she left his room, she nearly bumped into Azren, who was already approaching her hallway with a tray of warm broth and bread.
She gave him a faint smile. “Somewhere important.”
She sighed but before she could speak, Krios appeared behind her, fixing his cloak. “My Ate has me, she doesn’t need you,” he muttered under his breath, clearly still half-asleep and half-jealous.
Azren narrowed his eyes. “Oh? I didn’t know her little brother’s legs could fight off corrupted starspawns.”
Before the argument could begin—
They turned.
Aeria smiled lightly. “I just thought… I’d like to come. Also, I want to talk to you privately later, if that’s okay.”
The expression on Aeria’s face was a little nervous, but gentle.
Sorayael gave a small sigh. “Fine. Let’s all go.”
...........
They walked to the edge of the Aethenroth manor grounds, to a garden long preserved under magical wards. It was quiet, solemn—the grave resting beneath a silver magnolia tree, the blooms in full blossom.
Krios slowed down as they neared it, his steps faltering. Sorayael stopped in front of the grave, breath caught in her throat.
She knelt slowly.
Azren, standing respectfully a few paces back, dipped his head with quiet reverence.
Her voice broke slightly at the end.
Krios stepped forward, clutching something in his hand—a flower he’d picked along the way. He placed it gently by the gravestone.
His eyes shimmered.
Sorayael reached for his hand and squeezed it tightly. She leaned her forehead against the gravestone, closing her eyes.
The wind stirred gently.
Leaves danced around them. A faint warmth pressed in the air, as if someone.. somewhere—was watching them and smiling.
They all stayed there in respectful silence. No one spoke. The world, for a moment, was calm.
Sorayael finally stood, wiping her eyes, and looked toward the sky. Her lips curved into the smallest smile.
They sat in a quiet corner of a small café tucked between stone alleys and ivy-covered walls—one of the few places left untouched after the dungeon break.
The air was warm with the scent of roasted beans and cinnamon bread. It was peaceful. Too peaceful, in contrast to the ache sitting heavy in both their chests.
Reluctantly, the two boys stepped away, leaving the girls alone at the round table.
Aeria sat across Sorayael, hands clasped tightly on her lap, her shoulders tense. Her lips parted once, twice, but no words came out.
The taste was slightly bitter, but comforting and for a fleeting second, she was taken back to that surreal moment, in the void.
Flashback..
She had clutched the teacup then, golden eyes shimmering as she looked between Velthira and her older self.
Velthira smirked, tossing her hair. “Sure. Just go and let yourself die again HAHAHA”
End of Flashback..
A soft chuckle escaped Sorayael’s lips at the memory.
Aeria drew in a shaky breath. “So… about that time I left you when we were kids… I…” She looked down, tears forming in her eyes. “I didn’t mean it. I never wanted to leave you. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”
Aeria’s shoulders trembled. “F-Forgive me…”
Sorayael reached across the table and held her hand, her golden gaze steady. “There’s nothing to forgive.”
Aeria’s tears spilled, silent and raw.
Sorayael gave her hand a soft squeeze. “But I do want to know… what happened? Why were you there? With Krios… fighting that basta— I mean Alexander?”
Aeria inhaled shakily, her voice soft as she began to explain, her grip on Sorayael’s hand tightening as past pain began to resurface—
Aeria told Sorayael what happened to her all those years—the hardships, the choices, the paths that led her to that moment. Sorayael sat there in silence, her emotions spiraling in waves she could barely hold back.
Her fingers trembled slightly against her cup.
And then her tears fell.
Aeria, despite the pain in her past, gave her the softest smile. “Of course. You’re a sister to me. I would do it all again.”
Sorayael covered her mouth, trying to suppress the sob building in her throat.
But just as the atmosphere softened into warmth, a strange ripple of pressure broke the stillness in the air. The light from the coffee shop dimmed unnaturally, and an aura—not malevolent, but immense and unfamiliar—washed over them.
Both of them instinctively straightened.
Sorayael’s golden eyes sharpened. “Something’s coming.”
Aeria nodded, her senses flaring. “That’s… not normal mana.”
But before either of them could react, the world around them dissolved into silver light—and suddenly, they were no longer sitting in the café.
The grass beneath them was now bathed in a glowing pale fog. Ancient sigils shimmered in the air, and the sky above was a swirling sea of constellations.
The two girls turned sharply.
A figure stood a few paces away, cloaked in a gown that shimmered like moonlight across the ocean. Her hair fell in waves like strands of starlight, and her eyes carried the weight of a thousand constellations.
Sorayael blinked, brows furrowing, trying to recall. “I… I can’t remember…”
The woman waved her hand dismissively. “Never mind. I don’t wish to beat around the bush. I am Lyriamma, the constellation who chose Aeria. And…” her voice softened, “your mother’s friend.”
But Aeria’s hands were clutched together, her mouth agape in sheer awe.
Sorayael blinked slowly, face flattening in disbelief.
Lyriamma chuckled softly, amused by the reaction. “I quite like her, Sorayael. You have good taste in companions.”
Sorayael sighed, rubbing her temple. “I don’t know whether I should be alarmed, confused… or just leave Aeria here.”
Aeria was now staring at Lyriamma as if she were made of diamonds. “Can I touch your hair? Are you always glowing? Can I.. wait—do you eat star-shaped cookies?! Do you have a favorite nebula?!”
Sorayael gave her a sidelong look. “And here I thought I was the one who got chosen by weird entities.”
Lyriamma merely smiled again, serene and mysterious. “There is a reason I brought you both here. And soon, you’ll understand why.”
The air thickened, as if the realm itself was about to reveal something long-hidden.
The realm shimmered with soft pulses of starlight as Lyriamma raised her hand slightly, her fingers drawing glowing arcs through the air.
The surreal weight of the celestial realm blanketed them. Soft sigils sparkled beneath their feet. Before they could react further, they caught sight of two familiar figures ahead—Sorayael and Aeria.
Krios ran beside him. “Ate, what is this place? What happened?”
But before Sorayael could answer, Lyriamma stood tall before them, her voice smooth like a chime carried on the wind.
The celestial sky above them rippled like water, and in the middle of the realm, the space twisted—shimmering with glints of memory and light.
From within it, two figures emerged… gently stepping into existence.
A woman with silver hair like moonlight and golden eyes just like Sorayael's. And beside her, a tall man with proud bearing and striking features that mirrored Krios—his aura calm, yet commanding.
Sorayael felt her legs weaken.
Her heart thundered.
Her voice cracked.
Aeria gasped softly, her hand clutching Sorayael’s wrist out of instinct.
Krios blinked, stunned. “That’s.. no way… Is that…?”
Azren instinctively stepped closer behind Sorayael, as though to anchor her with silent presence.
The woman—Eiravelle—smiled gently, her eyes brimming with warmth and sorrow all at once. “My little star… how you’ve grown.”
Sorayael staggered a step forward. “This… isn’t real… is it?”
Zyair looked at Krios with pride in his eyes. “My son… you stood when the world tried to crush you.”
Krios’ voice trembled. “Dad…”
Eiravelle turned to Aeria and Azren next. “Thank you… for protecting her. For staying.”
Sorayael’s tears finally broke free. “Why… Why show me this now?”
Zyair nodded. “A fragment of origin—a trace of the ancient source itself. That’s why the stars seek you. And that’s why they will never stop.”
Lyriamma added softly, “The Gods tremble at your name not because of your power now… but what you’re destined to become.”
The celestial realm trembled slightly—like it was holding its breath.
Azren’s eyes widened.
Aeria stared at Sorayael in awe.
Krios, shaken, turned to his sister. “Ate… is that why they kept chasing you?”
Sorayael’s throat felt dry. Her lips trembled.
And then her mother smiled, stepping close, placing a hand against Sorayael’s chest—where her heartbeat echoed once more.
Sorayael collapsed into her mother’s arms—finally. Even if it was only for this moment. Even if it wasn’t meant to last.
Even if it would break her again when it ended.
They stayed in that star-kissed realm for a little while longer, the weight of fate momentarily set aside in favor of laughter and fleeting warmth.
Sorayael recounted her journey since their death—about how everything felt like falling endlessly and yet somehow, she kept walking.
Her voice shook at parts, especially when she spoke of the losses, the battles, and the moments she nearly gave up.
But her parents listened in silence, their hands sometimes gently brushing hers for comfort.
Krios, unable to contain himself, proudly told Zyair about his “cool and awesome ate,” hands flailing with exaggerated gestures.
Zyair ruffled his son’s hair with a grin, pride flickering in his gaze.
But then, Eiravelle’s eyes subtly slid toward Azren, who—though composed—was quietly watching Sorayael with a fondness that couldn’t be hidden.
Her lips quirked into a teasing smile. “Say… that young man over there,” she leaned toward Sorayael, voice mischievously hushed. “Did he already confess?”
Zyair, who had been listening with narrowed eyes, suddenly stood.
He walked straight to Azren.
Azren stiffened. “Y-Yes, sir?”
Azren gulped. ‘H-He’s her dad! Her actual dad!’
Zyair cracked his knuckles. “If you win, you can have my daughter.”
Azren’s brows shot up.
Sorayael practically combusted. “DAD! STOP! THIS IS EMBARRASSING!”
But it was too late. A sparring circle of light formed around them, conjured playfully by Lyriamma herself.
Krios whispered, “Kuya Azren, I believe in you. But also… don’t die.”
Azren, now forced into the most important duel of his life, exhaled sharply and faced Zyair.
The clash of their blades echoed like stardust in the void.
Azren fought well, with skill and calm—his style refined from years of training. But Zyair was a former general of Aethelgard and a legend in his own right.
Within moments, Azren found himself flat on his back, sword knocked away.
Zyair dusted his hands, victorious. “Told you. Don’t ever come close to my daughter again—”
*BONK!*
Eiravelle had smacked him clean on the head with a conjured star-scepter.
Everyone burst into laughter—even Sorayael, still covering her face.
Zyair grumbled and rubbed his head, “You always hit harder than the battlefield…”
The mood softened.
Their time was nearly up.
Eiravelle stepped forward, holding her daughter one last time. “I’m so proud of you, Sorayael. No matter how heavy the stars are, don’t forget—we’re always watching.”
Zyair placed a firm hand on Krios’ shoulder. “Take care of your sister, alright?”
Lyriamma watched from the side, quiet and satisfied. “Are you ready to return?”
Sorayael didn’t want to let go… but she nodded.
Eira brushed away a tear from her daughter’s cheek. “Live freely, love bravely.”
Sorayael smiled at them and for the last time, she hugged them. Even Krios hugged them and cried a little before letting them go.
With a wave of Lyriamma’s hand, the stars folded inward, the light dimmed—
And just like that, the four of them were back inside the café.
Krios blinked. “Whoa…”
Azren sat still, stunned.
Aeria giggled. “That was surreal.”
Sorayael looked around, hand over her chest.
Her heart… it felt lighter.
Relieved.
And at peace.
She closed her eyes for a moment and smiled, her lips curving gently.