Silence hung gently in Sylvia's study after the long conversation between Sofia and Celes. A thin trail of steam from the teacup still drifted upward, carrying a warm herbal scent but gradually, that warmth faded… replaced by a creeping cold.
Celes, sitting on the sofa across from Sofia, shivered suddenly. The air had changed. The temperature in the room was dropping slowly, but unmistakably.
The magic crystals on the wall flickered uneasily, as if sensing danger. A thin layer of frost appeared along the window's edge, forming delicate patterns of ice. From her seat, Sofia lowered her gaze, her hands cradling a cup of tea that no longer steamed. Her eyes, usually a calm, gentle blue, now trembled with golden light, reflecting the storm in her heart.
"…so she truly isn't here," she whispered.
The holy aura that usually felt warm and soothing now shifted gentle yet sharp, like the air before a storm. One breath from Sofia made the entire room feel as if it were cracking.
