Chapter 240: Chapter 239 – Shadows in a Dream
The room was dim, lit only by an oil lamp on the small table in the corner. Heavy curtains shut the window against the storm, yet the sound of the wind still seeped through howling and clawing at the walls of Velthya’s house.
On the large fur-covered bed, Sylvia lay on her back. Her black gown had been removed, replaced by lighter, more comfortable clothing. Her long hair spilled out, some strands clinging damp against her cheek from the room’s warmth.
She let out a long sigh.
"Ugh... too much meat," she murmured, pressing a pale hand against her stomach.
Last night, they had all laughed, toasted, and eaten as though there were no tomorrow. Velthya had gone overboard with the roasting, and Sylvia, though usually one to eat sparingly, hadn’t been able to resist this time. The warmth of laughter, the bustle of companionship... something she hadn’t felt in years, after so long in darkness and battle.
"It’s been so long... since I felt that kind of warmth," she whispered faintly, eyes tracing the wooden ceiling.
But in the silence, her thoughts drifted. Lately, she had begun to notice something: Aurellia. The fiery girl often sat close to Celes, speaking softer than usual, her eyes never straying far from the white-haired figure.
Celes, of course, remained her usual self. Those cold amethyst eyes, curt replies, often brushing Aurellia off as though she were just a small nuisance. Yet Sylvia knew better than anyone behind that icy façade, Celes still harbored something.
"Is it because of her feelings for me...?" Sylvia closed her eyes briefly, then smiled faintly. "So stubborn."
She turned onto her right side. Her heart then drifted to a single name that returned again and again.
"Sofia..." she whispered.
Her chest tightened instantly. Memories of Sofia surfaced vividly, her golden hair shimmering, her warm smile, and the gentle voice that always brought calm.
"Are you safe? Is Nocture still standing strong? Are you overwhelmed, managing everything without me?"
Her hand clenched the blanket, her crimson eyes glistening faintly.
"Wait for me... just a little longer. My mission in this world will end soon. I will come back to you, Sofia. I promise."
Slowly, her eyelids lowered, her breathing grew calm. But just as she was about to sink into sleep, something shifted.
The air in the room grew warm. Not the warmth of the fireplace, but something else like spring suddenly flowing into the depths of winter. A gentle fragrance of blossoms and trees filled the air.
Sylvia’s eyes snapped open. "What..."
A faint green light glowed at the foot of the bed. From it appeared a figure with long green hair, a serene face, and plain garments woven as though from nature itself.
"The Avatar of the world..." Sylvia whispered, instantly sitting up.
The figure smiled softly, as though its presence was no more than a passing breeze. Its voice was melodious, layered with echoes, yet crystal clear inside her head.
"The gods have moved."
Sylvia’s eyes narrowed. "So... the time has come."
The avatar nodded gently.
"Six of them have extended their hand. They are angry, and they will bless the Church’s armies. This isle will become a battlefield far harsher than before. You must be careful, Sylvia."
Silence pressed down after those words. Sylvia clenched her fist on the blanket, her crimson eyes glowing.
"I understand. Just tell me that whoever they send, I will face them. There is no turning back."
The avatar’s smile softened.
"That is the answer I awaited. Hold on, until the time comes for you to return."
The warmth in the air slowly faded, the floral fragrance dissipating. The figure vanished, like mist scattered by the wind.
Sylvia remained seated for several seconds, staring at the empty space where it had stood. At last, she exhaled, her shoulders slumping slightly.
"Gods, the Church, whoever you are... all you’re doing is delaying my reunion with Sofia."
She lay back down, pulling the blanket to her chest. Her eyes closed once more.
The room fell silent again, save for the storm raging outside the window.
Sylvia drifted into sleep. Yet in her dreams, the footsteps of war already echoed the march of gods preparing to shroud the Dark Isle’s sky in blood and clashing light.
...
While Sylvia finally slept in Velthya’s home, far away in her own world, night in Nocture had only just begun.
The city no longer slept, torchlight and magical crystal lamps lit the main streets, while in the night market, merchants and buyers still haggled despite the biting cold. The once-silent black stone buildings now thrummed with simple music, the clang of workshops, and children’s laughter.
Amid the bustle stood one tall tower: Nocture’s council hall. At its peak, candlelight still burned behind a wide window.
Sofia sat on a long cushioned chair, the desk before her stacked high with documents. Her golden hair was tied simply back, her face pale with fatigue yet her eyes sharp. Her fingers moved ceaselessly signing orders, checking reports, writing responses.
At her side, Zark stood tall, holding a thick leather folder.
"Report from the eastern sector, Lady Sofia. Steel production has risen fifteen percent this month. However, coal shipments from the western mines are delayed due to a minor landslide."
Sofia lifted her head slowly, meeting his gaze. Her voice was soft, yet firm.
"Deploy the construction corps. Use the worker zombies as well; they’ll clear the rubble faster. Production mustn’t be stalled too long."
"Understood." Zark bowed, then left to carry out the order.
When the door closed, Sofia leaned back. Her breath heavy, her shoulders bearing the weight of the city. Her eyes drifted to the window, to the night sky dotted faintly with stars.
"...Sylvia."
Her name slipped out softly, almost like a prayer.
It had been weeks since Sylvia left with Celes to another world. Sofia didn’t know the details, only that it was important enough that Sylvia herself had entrusted Nocture to her care.
She lowered her gaze, pressing a hand to her chest.
"Are you safe? You never tell me everything... but I know. You must be carrying something even heavier than what I bear here."
A chill draft slipped in through the window gap, making the candle flicker. Sofia closed her eyes. For a fleeting moment, she could almost hear Sylvia’s voice flat yet reassuring. She could almost feel the cold, steady grip of her hand.
"I... miss you," she whispered faintly. "Nocture is safe. I’ll protect this city until you return. So... come back to me soon."
But Sofia did not return to her bed that night. The stack of documents was finished for now, yet her mind remained restless. Sleep seldom came easily since Sylvia’s departure, always a hollow ache within her.
She stood, reaching for the dark-blue cloak draped over her chair. Slowly she donned it, wrapping her slender frame against the cold night.
"A little fresh air... might ease my mind," she murmured.
She left the council hall, her steps steady as she descended the stone stairs. Outside, the chill bit at her face, yet the magical lamps lining the main road cast a warm glow. Nocture’s night market thrived, wooden stalls lined the streets, lanterns swayed in the wind, vendors’ calls mingled with buyers’ laughter.
Sofia walked among the bustle. Some bowed their heads respectfully when they saw her, others only glanced in quiet admiration. She returned their greetings with a faint smile, though weariness lingered on her face.
She stopped at a small stall. The scent of sweet honeyed bread rose from a simple oven. The young vendor bowed nervously.
"L-Lady Sofia... would you like to try one?"
Sofia smiled gently. "Yes, just one."
She accepted the warm bread, biting into it lightly. Its sweetness was delicate, unlike the formal meals usually served at the council hall. She continued walking, pausing next at a stall selling herbal tea, its fragrance steeped from dried blossoms.
Bit by bit, her hands filled with market treats sweet bread, roasted nuts, and warm tea in a clay cup.
Soon after, she made her way to the city’s central tower. Once only a watch post, it had become a new symbol of Nocture. Calmly, she ascended the spiral stairs until she reached the top.
The night wind blew harsher at the peak, but from there Sofia could see the entire city.
Torches and crystal lamps lined the streets, tracing radiant lines across the darkness. The night market was still bustling, faint music played, children’s laughter echoed. Thin snow glimmered on the rooftops of black stone houses, reflecting the light.
Sofia sat on one of the stone beams at the tower’s summit, setting her treats beside her. She cupped the tea, blowing its steam softly before sipping. Warmth spread down her throat.
Her eyes swept across the view below. "When Sylvia returns... she’ll be surprised. The city is already different from the one she left behind."
Her heart felt both relieved and pained. Their world was in long recovery after the apocalypse. Cities slowly rose again, trade routes reopened, and humanity tried to weave civilization back from ruins.
Yet not all viewed Nocture kindly. Sofia knew many from human cities, elven enclaves, and beastkin tribes saw Nocture as a threat. And why wouldn’t they? A zombie queen ruled here. Still, many elves, beastkin, and other races had chosen to live here, feeling safer and that only fueled the hatred of their kin outside.
She lowered her gaze, catching her faint reflection on the tea’s surface. "Ironic... the world was ruined by a zombie plague, and now I... rule their city."
But she also knew the zombies of Nocture were different. They were no longer mindless beasts of infection. They were... blessed. Their minds had returned, even if their bodies remained dead. They could think, work, even speak in their own strange way.
Sofia drew in a long breath, cold air mingling with the tea’s warmth. "A blessing... or perhaps a curse turned into hope."
Her eyes drifted toward the towering black city walls, now manned by guards human and undead alike. Fragile, yet real harmony.
"If the world rejects us... so be it. As long as Nocture stands, as long as Sylvia returns..." her eyes softened, "...that’s enough for me."
She bit into the sweet bread, now cooled, and looked up at the sky. The stars shimmered faintly behind snow clouds, but their light still pierced through, a reminder the sky never fully shut out hope.
The night wind caught her golden hair, making it ripple like strands of light in the darkness.
"Good night, Sylvia," she whispered gently. "I hope you feel the same warmth wherever you are."
Below her, Nocture lived on beating as a new city that refused to sink.