Chapter 12: The Weight and the Whisper
Elvas stared at Liora standing outside his door, his heart hammering against his ribs, his palms slick with anxiety. This was the girl he'd only dared to watch from a distance—the one whose silver hair seemed to catch every flicker of light, whose keen green eyes always felt just out of reach.
And now she stood here, in front of his dismal room. Her eyes were softened by vulnerability, yet heavy with a deeper emotion—grief.
"Are you sure you have the right room?" Elvas managed to ask, his voice trembling slightly, his eyes wide with disbelief.
Liora nodded, her expression calm but firm. "Can I come in? I need to talk to someone."
He stepped aside, opening the door wider, his mind reeling.
She walked in slowly, her steps quiet, yet her presence seemed to fill the small, cluttered space completely.
Elvas closed the door behind her, barely breathing. He still couldn't believe she was actually here.
She sat on the edge of his bed, her hands folded neatly in her lap, her face tense and shadowed by the profound loss of her friend.
"Do you want anything?" Elvas asked awkwardly, fidgeting with his hands. "Water or something?"
Liora looked up, her eyes finally meeting his. There was a profound sadness in them. "No, I'm okay." She hesitated, then added softly, "I came to thank you, Elvas. For what you said about Kalia earlier. It meant a lot."
Elvas froze. His chest tightened painfully, and a spike of paralyzing guilt clawed its way up his throat as her words landed.
Kalia's face flashed in his mind—the stark image burned into the System Book, her heart violently ripped out, and the System's cold, final words: [Player terminated.]
He could say nothing, his throat tightening, his eyes dropping immediately to the floor.
Liora's voice softened, breaking the suffocating silence. "I just don't understand it. Kalia was perfectly fine just days ago. Now she's gone, just like that. Dead. It makes no sense."
Elvas eased down onto the bed beside her, instinctively keeping a careful gap between them, his heart pounding an agonizing rhythm.
He looked at her profile—her pale face, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
"People die," he said finally, his voice low and strained. "It happens. We've got to live while we can, be happy. No one ever knows when their time is up."
Liora turned to him, her eyes searching his face intently, a tear finally slipping down her cheek.
"You're right," she said, her voice trembling. "But if I'd known, I would have done more with her." She swallowed hard. "We had plans, you know? Stupid, fun stuff. Now it's just too late."
Elvas hesitated, then slowly shifted closer, his hand hovering before gently resting on her shoulder.
"It's not your fault," he said softly, his own voice heavy with crushing, unspoken guilt. "Some things just happen. We can't possibly control them."
Liora pulled back slightly, her eyes suddenly sharpening, her voice growing steady with sudden insight. "What if the Elders are right?" she asked, wiping her face. "What if it's the Book?"
Her words sliced through the air like a knife.
"I heard the stories," she continued, her voice low and tense. "When the Demon System was active before, people died. A lot of them." Her voice dropped to a terrified whisper. "They say it takes a life to give its owner power. What if that's why Kalia's gone?"
Elvas's heart physically stopped. His breath caught sharply.
Did I do this? Did my selfish choice kill her? His mind screamed the truth, but his face remained a blank, neutral mask of feigned calm.
He stood up abruptly, turning away from her, his voice tight with controlled panic. "No way. That can't be true. If the book was here, more people would be dead, wouldn't they? Why only Kalia?"
Liora stood too, her eyes narrowing slightly, her voice soft but intensely probing. "Maybe you're right," she murmured. "But what if someone has it? What if they're using it to get stronger, one life at a time?"
Elvas's stomach twisted violently, his hands clenching at his sides. Fear and guilt were choking him.
What if he told her? What if she knew he possessed the Book—that he might have been the direct cause of Kalia's brutal death?
Would she hate him? Would the whole of Avalon turn on him even more viciously than before?
"I don't know," he said finally, his voice barely audible. "I honestly don't think it's real."
Liora's expression softened again, a small, fragile smile breaking through her grief.
"You're probably right," she said, her voice noticeably lighter. "I feel so much better just talking to you. Thanks, Elvas. I didn't expect you to be... well, easy to talk to."
Elvas's cheeks flushed immediately, his heart now racing for an entirely different, hopeful reason.
"Yeah?" he said, a nervous, genuine laugh slipping out. "I'm not exactly known for being good at this stuff."
Liora's smile widened beautifully, her eyes brightening. "Maybe we could talk again tomorrow?" she asked softly. "Like, just hang out or something. If you want."
Elvas nodded, his voice catching with eagerness. "Yeah, I'd really like that. Tomorrow sounds great."
She walked to the door, her steps lighter than when she arrived, her silver hair swaying like liquid light.
"See you then," she said, glancing back with a small, hopeful wave.
Elvas watched her go, his heart pounding a furious rhythm, a genuine, wide grin spreading across his face.
He shut the door gently and leaned against it, his mind buzzing with unbelievable excitement.
"I talked to her," he whispered, incredulous. "Liora. My Liora."
He laughed, a real, unburdened laugh—something he hadn't done in years.
"She didn't hate me," he said, pacing the room. "She wants to see me again."
But as his eyes fell on his backpack, the black System Book hidden deep inside, his smile instantly faded.
Kalia's dead face rose again in his mind, and the Clan Elders' chilling warnings rang like a death knell.
"What if she's right?" he muttered, his voice low and fearful. "What if the Book truly is that evil?"
He shook his head sharply, violently pushing the thought away, desperately clinging to the excitement that was fiercely fighting back.
"No," he said firmly, trying to convince himself. "It's just a tragic coincidence. It has to be."
He sat on the bed, running his hands through his hair, his mind a chaotic tangle of sudden, exhilarating joy and terrifying, heavy guilt.
"Liora talked to me," he said again, a faint smile creeping back. "She actually wants to talk to me again."
He lay back, staring at the cracked ceiling, his heart still racing with hope. He took a deep, shaky breath, his eyes closing, the tentative smile remaining on his face.