Chapter 962 — The Quiet Between Heartbeats
The Hollow pulsed with quiet life.
It wasn't the loud kind — no hammering from the forges, no bustling merchants shouting about wares. It was the soft hum of a community at peace, the distant laughter of children, the rhythmic murmur of fountains that glittered with faint light from mana streams beneath the streets.
Eris wandered through it all like a spirit rediscovering the world she'd only ever seen through someone else's eyes.
Every sound fascinated her. The soft rustle of fabric. The uneven tapping of shoes. The scent of stone after rain. Every sensation came to her raw and unfiltered, and she drank it in as though trying to memorize what "existing" meant.
The townsfolk had grown used to her presence in the weeks since her awakening. They still looked, still whispered — but now their curiosity had softened into something gentler. Respect, perhaps. Or wonder. She wasn't sure.
"Good morning, Lady Eris!" a boy called from a stall, holding up a freshly baked loaf.
Eris stopped, regarding the golden-brown bread with analytical precision. "Your greeting suggests warmth and familiarity," she said softly. "But I do not recognize you."
The boy blinked, confused for a heartbeat, before smiling shyly. "It's just something we say, miss. You helped the Hollow — you're one of us."
"One of us," she repeated under her breath, the words strange and heavy on her tongue. After a moment, she nodded. "Then… good morning."
The boy grinned wide enough to light up the entire stall.
Later that day, Eris found herself in the gardens beyond the council chamber. The air was thick with the scent of lavender and wet earth, and the sun cut soft gold lines across the stone paths. Lyria sat beneath one of the ancient trees, a stack of scrolls beside her.
She looked up when Eris approached, smiling faintly. "You move so quietly. You could frighten a ghost."
Eris tilted her head. "I thought ghosts were the frightening ones."
Lyria laughed softly. "Perhaps they are."
Eris hesitated, then sat across from her — though "sat" wasn't quite the word. It was more of a studied imitation, as if she were testing out what "comfortable" was supposed to look like.
"You wished to see me," Eris said.
"I did." Lyria folded one of the scrolls, resting her hands on her lap. "You've been spending more time with Kael. I thought it might be… good to speak with you directly."
Eris's eyes, pale silver and reflective, narrowed slightly. "You wish to assess me."
Lyria's smile didn't waver. "Maybe a little."
Eris said nothing for a moment, processing that honesty. Then, softly: "You think I am dangerous."
"I think you could be," Lyria said, her tone gentle but firm. "You're made from chaos magic — the same force that nearly tore this world apart. But Kael trusts you completely. That makes you part of this family."
"Family," Eris echoed again, much like she had echoed someone weeks ago. "He uses that word often."
Lyria's gaze softened. "Then you should understand it. Family isn't born of blood. It's built through choice. Through love, and trust, and sometimes pain."
Eris tilted her head again, her voice a quiet whisper. "He feels deeply for you."
Lyria blinked, then laughed gently. "He's terrible at hiding it, isn't he?"
"I sense it in him," Eris said simply. "When you enter the room, his mind shifts. His thoughts calm. His pulse steadies. You bring him… balance."
That made Lyria pause. "You can sense his thoughts still?"
"Not always," Eris admitted. "But there are moments when the link hums between us. A thread of shared memory. A pulse of something I cannot name. I believe he does not notice it."
Lyria frowned, thoughtful. "And what do you feel when that happens?"
Eris looked down at her hands, flexing her fingers slowly. "Confusion. Warmth. The same thing he feels when you smile. I… do not understand why."
"That's because you're learning what it means to care," Lyria said softly. "It's messy, Eris. It doesn't follow logic. But it's real."
Eris lifted her gaze, almost searching. "Am I allowed to care for him?"
Lyria didn't answer immediately. She looked out at the horizon, where the Hollow's towers caught the fading light of dusk. "He saved you. You saved him, too, in your way. Whatever grows between you — it's not something that needs permission. Just honesty."
"Honesty," Eris repeated, the faintest quiver in her tone. "Then I will be honest. When he smiles, I feel… lighter. When he hurts, something in me tightens until I wish to make it stop. Is this affection?"
Lyria smiled — bittersweet, but genuine. "It might be."
Eris looked down again, voice barely a whisper. "Then I think I am beginning to understand what it means to be alive."
That night, Kael found them still sitting in the gardens. Lyria leaned against the tree, eyes closed, while Eris watched the stars.
Kael approached quietly, his expression soft. "You two have been here all evening."
Eris turned to him, silver eyes catching the moonlight. "Lyria has been teaching me what it means to care."
Kael smiled faintly. "I can't think of a better teacher."
For the first time, Eris smiled — small, hesitant, but real. "Neither can I."