CHAPTER 207: CHAPTER 207 – A SHADOW NEVER FAR AWAY

Sofia’s footsteps echoed softly through the corridors of Nocture’s castle, her thick cloak still wrapped around her body, carrying with it the lingering scents of the morning market: warm bread, wool, and herbal tea, now neatly arranged in the small basket she held in her hands.

She had just returned from a stroll with Rina. A smile and laughter still lingered on her lips, but as the castle gates slowly closed behind her, a creeping silence slipped in, like the chill that seeped through stone walls.

In the main hall, a soldier on guard offered her a brief salute. Sofia returned it with a light nod before continuing on toward her chambers. Rina had already excused herself to rest, leaving Sofia alone.

Once inside her room, Sofia set the shopping basket on the table, removed her cloak, and sat down in the chair near the window. Her eyes wandered outward, to the pale daylight sky and the thin fog that had yet to truly fade. The city looked peaceful, the market still lively, but something felt missing.

Her hand slipped into the inner pocket of her cloak and touched a thin ring she had kept with her since that morning. Slowly, she drew it out, watching the faint gleam it gave. Her lips curved faintly, a smile both beautiful and heavy with longing.

"If you were here, Sylvia..." she whispered, so softly it almost vanished into the quiet.

Her lover’s face surfaced in her mind. A warmth unlike the sweet bread or the hot soup she had tasted in the market earlier, warmth that nothing else in this city could replace.

Though she tried to remain cheerful throughout the day, every step she had taken through Nocture’s streets, every smile she returned to its people, felt as though one part of her was missing. A part only Sylvia could fill.

Sofia drew a deep breath and leaned her head back against the chair. She knew she had to be strong, to look unshaken for the people, for Rina, for everyone who placed their trust in her. But in the solitude of this chamber, it was only herself and the longing that never receded.

She rose slowly from the chair. The thin ring still rested in her palm, cold against her skin, yet carrying that strange warmth born only from memory. With quiet steps, she crossed to the balcony door. The old wooden hinges groaned softly as she pushed it open, and the winter air rushed in.

The balcony of Nocture’s castle stretched toward the east. From here, Sofia could see nearly the whole city: rooftops dusted with snow, cobbled streets marked by cart wheels, and the marketplace that was gradually winding down after the morning’s bustle. White smoke rose from chimneys into the pale air, mingling with the stubborn fog that refused to lift.

Sofia pulled her cloak tighter and leaned against the stone railing. Her fingers brushed the smooth surface of the ring, and then she lifted her face to the sky.

"Wherever you are right now..." her voice was low, nearly carried away by the wind, "I hope you can see this, Sylvia."

The winter sky was gray, silent. No stars, only the muted glow of a sun hidden behind thick clouds. But for Sofia, it felt as though something was listening.

She smiled faintly, though her eyes brimmed with longing. "Today I walked through the market. Of course, Rina kept grumbling, but I was happy. This city... our city... it’s alive, Sylvia. It’s real, full of laughter, full of color. And yet still, every time I laugh, I feel... you should be beside me."

The cold wind brushed her face, sending strands of golden hair swaying. Sofia closed her eyes briefly, letting the breeze carry her words away, as though delivering them to another world.

"I miss you," she whispered softly. "More than I can ever put into thought. I want to tell you everything about the market, about the fabric I bought, about how lazy Noir was today, yawning and frightening the soldiers. All those little things... they would mean so much more if I could share them with you."

Her eyes opened again, gazing far beyond Nocture’s snowy walls. Shadows of forests and wide plains stretched in the distance, where feral zombies still roamed. The world remained dangerous, yet her heart found strength in that longing.

Sofia lifted the ring to her lips, pressing it briefly against them. "Come back soon, Sylvia. The city is waiting for you. I am waiting for you."

Silence cloaked the balcony, broken only by the wind sighing through the stone. Yet to Sofia, her words did not vanish. She believed, somehow, that Sylvia could hear them across distance, across dimensions, across time itself.

Night fell quietly over the foreign world. The ancient castle that Sylvia now occupied with her forces stood still, its stone walls reflecting the flicker of torches along the halls. After hours spent discussing the Tower of Echoes with Celes about its mysterious floors, the monsters lurking within, and the secrets yet unrevealed Sylvia finally excused herself to rest.

Her steps were slow along the stone corridor, the long sweep of her black gown brushing the cold floor. Her footsteps nearly disappeared into the silence, broken only by the faint whisper of the night wind through an open window. Her mind was still filled with Celes’s words, strategies, and looming possibilities. But her body now demanded quiet.

At last she reached her chamber and shut the door softly behind her. The room was simple: a wooden shelf stacked with old books, a small table with a half-burnt candle, and a great canopy bed whose drapes swayed gently in the night breeze. Sylvia slipped off her black mantle, setting it on a chair, and walked to the window.

Without realizing, her steps slowed. Something faint, like a call tugged at her.

She looked out.

The night sky here was unlike Earth’s, the moon larger, the stars deeper in color, each spark as though holding a story. Yet tonight, Sylvia felt something strange. Her heart trembled, as if a voice were reaching across distance, across worlds.

She closed her eyes. Her breath was soft, pale vapor leaving her lips. In that silence, an image appeared in her mind. Golden hair gleaming even beneath snow, a gentle smile that always soothed, eyes filled with steadfast faith in Sofia.

Sylvia placed a hand over her chest, where her heart beat slow but steady. "Sofia..." she whispered.

The vision of Sofia standing on Nocture’s balcony, speaking to the sky, came to her with startling clarity. As though she could truly hear that whisper.

"I miss you," she murmured into the still night, the words barely audible. "I want to return... to see Nocture again. To see you."

The night wind flowed in through the window, stirring the thin curtains. Sylvia let her black hair drift in the breeze, her eyes fixed on the vast star-filled sky.

There was an ache within her, a hollow no victory or power could mend. She was a queen, a commander, the mistress of countless undead. But on nights like this, she was only a woman longing for home.

She smiled faintly, though her eyes glistened with an unspoken feeling. "Wait for me, Sofia. I will return."

Then she shut the window gently, leaving the shining heavens outside. Yet within her heart, it was as if an invisible bridge bound her to Sofia across worlds, across time. And that night, Sylvia slept with her distant lover’s image in mind, watching over the city they once built together.

She lingered for a while at the window, then finally turned away. Weariness clung to her after the long day of discussion with Celes. Her gaze shifted toward the small adjoining bath chamber recently renovated by the undead builders at her command.

With quiet steps, she entered. The room glowed faintly with stones embedded in the walls, serving as lamps. A large stone bath was already filled, its surface shimmering as steam rose faintly warmed by black fire magic, cold to the touch yet leaving the water pleasantly heated.

Sylvia slipped out of her long black gown, the fabric falling in a soft heap upon the stone floor. Her pale body glowed against the gentle light. She shed the last thin garment and stepped into the bath.

The warmth enveloped her at once. She drew a long breath as it seeped into her, soothing tense muscles, washing away the night’s chill from her skin. Her crimson eyes drifted shut, her head resting against the bath’s edge.

Silence.

Only the faint lapping of water whenever she moved. Her hand brushed along the surface, creating tiny ripples. Her black hair floated around her like strands of dark silk glimmering in the light.

She exhaled softly. "If Sofia were here... she would scold me, say I worked too much... and force me to rest." A faint smile curved her lips.

She splashed water across her face, feeling the warmth cascade down her skin. For a moment, the burdens of the world felt distant.

Nearly an hour later, Sylvia rose from the bath, droplets sliding from her skin, glittering under the glow of enchanted stone. She reached for the thick black towel hanging by the door, wrapping it around her slender frame. Slowly, she dried herself, then sat on a small stool to comb through her long hair with a polished bone comb.

Her strokes were slow, deliberate. Each strand fell neatly, cascading like dark silk over her pale shoulders. She gazed at her reflection in a bronze mirror seeing not only a queen, but a woman steeped in solitude.

Once her hair was smooth, she rose and slipped into her nightclothes: a thin dark gown with delicate embroidery along its hem, layered with a long black fur-trimmed robe to ward off the chill of the stone chamber. She dressed carefully, then sat on the edge of her bed.

The private room was filled now with quiet calm. Sylvia pulled the blanket over her shoulders. At first the fabric felt cold, but soon it melded with the coolness of her body, always touched by death’s stillness. Her crimson eyes slowly shut, though she glanced once more at the slightly open window.

The moon hung in the alien sky but somehow, she felt its glow was the same as Earth’s. A fine thread seemed to connect her heart to someone far away.

Her fingertip brushed her own lips, a small gesture heavy with yearning. She whispered, so soft it nearly vanished:

"Wait for me, Sofia... I will return."

The night wind stirred, fluttering the thin curtain as if in reply. Sylvia’s faint smile lingered, and then she allowed sleep to draw her into its embrace.

But before slumber fully claimed her, she whispered once more, her voice softer than breath, as though speaking to a distance beyond reach:

"Good night, Sofia."