CHAPTER 571: WE WEREN’T ALWAYS LIKE THIS

Liam and Sheila made their way along the dimly lit pathway leading toward the dormitory blocks, their steps quiet against the stone.

After Percy had vanished back into the shadows, neither of them had found a reason—or perhaps the courage—to break the silence. Liam remained wordless simply because he rarely felt compelled to speak unless necessary, though the weight of a question lingered on the edge of his mind. Sheila, however, was wrapped in something far heavier, the shock and emotional strain of facing her brother after so long pressing down on her so tightly that forming even a single sentence felt impossible. Liam had noticed how off-balance she looked, and so he allowed the silence to stretch, choosing not to push her.

By the time they reached the front of Block 2, Liam finally slowed, coming to a stop by the stone steps. Sheila halted as well, her posture stiffening slightly as she turned to face him. The glow from the enchanted lamps lining the dorm’s exterior cast soft light across her features, revealing just how shaken she still was.

"I... uh..." Sheila began, trying to steady her voice even as it wavered. "Thank you for the talk tonight." She attempted a fragile smile, but it faltered, her gaze barely able to rise to meet Liam’s. "I really appreciate it."

"Sure. It wasn’t a big deal," Liam replied evenly, though he noted every tell—the tension in her shoulders, the discomfort clouding her eyes, the tightness in her voice.

She offered a small, genuine nod. "Well... I guess I should get going. See you tomorrow, then." She shifted slightly, preparing to turn away.

But Liam’s voice reached her before she could take a single step. "Hey, Sheila."

She froze mid-turn, looking over her shoulder before slowly facing him again. "Yeah?" she whispered.

Liam regarded her with his usual steady calm. "I know it’s not really my place," he said, his tone neither prying nor apologetic, just firm and observant, "but I’m curious. What’s your relationship with your brother actually like? Because from what I saw tonight, for two people who share blood, there’s a lot of tension there."

The question struck something deep within her. Sheila’s expression dimmed as her eyes drifted away from him, guilt, pain, and confusion flickering across her features in unguarded flashes.

"You don’t have to answer," Liam added, sensing her reaction. "It was wrong of me to intrude."

"No... that’s not it," Sheila murmured quickly, her voice softer than before. "I don’t mind." She hesitated, drawing a breath as if gathering courage. "For some reason... I actually feel safe telling you this."

Liam offered no response beyond a small nod, giving her room to speak.

"This tension between me and my brother... it wasn’t always there," she began quietly. "When we were little, before I awakened my affinities at five, Percy and I were inseparable. He used to take me everywhere, play with me, teach me things. He was more than a brother—he was my best friend." A faint smile crossed her lips at the memory, but it was fragile, gone as quickly as it appeared.

"But after my affinities awakened... everything changed." Her hands tightened slightly at her sides. "He pulled away. Bit by bit. He grew colder and distant. No matter what I did, no matter how much I tried to reach out or prove myself or be what he wanted... it never mattered." She swallowed, fighting the ache in her voice. "I never understood what I did wrong."

"And does that make you afraid of him?" Liam asked, blunt as always, though his tone carried no hostility—only clarity.

Sheila flinched softly. "I... I..." Her voice withered mid-sentence.

"You don’t have to answer that either," Liam said, his voice shifting to something more intentional, more grounded. "From what you’ve told me, and from what I saw tonight, I get it. You’re devastated, and you’re afraid. I won’t pretend to know the feeling myself, but I do know this." His gaze held hers. "Don’t let this unresolved tension be the thing that keeps you stuck. Don’t let it keep you from moving forward—now or in the future."

Sheila stared at him, her eyes glistening as his words sank in.

"I can’t tell you to forget him," Liam continued. "Your brother clearly matters to you. But I can tell you this—you should confront him. Before this month ends. Because if you don’t, and that month passes, you’ll lose that chance. And you’ll carry that emptiness with you."

The moment hung between them for a long stretch, the quiet around them thick and heavy. Eventually Sheila let out a soft scoff, her head lowering as she wiped at a tear Liam pretended not to notice.

"You know, Liam," she murmured, forcing out a small laugh. "Dylan might have his charm with words, but so do you. Yours... they’re blunt, but they hit exactly where they should. Thank you for that. Really. I’m glad we talked."

Liam’s expression didn’t shift. "I’m glad it helped," he said simply.

Sheila breathed in slowly, grounding herself. But then another realization hit her and she straightened abruptly. "Wait—your duel with Percy. How are you even planning to deal with that??" she asked, concern bleeding into her tone.

"Don’t know," Liam answered casually. "I’ll just have figure something out later."

Sheila’s anxiety deepened. "I wish I could give you some advice since he’s my brother but... I’ve got nothing."

"Don’t worry about it," Liam said. "Your brother’s strong. But he’s not overwhelmingly strong. So don’t waste your energy worrying about me."

Sheila looked at him for a moment, then smirked faintly—an expression far more like the girl she had been earlier that night. "Alright then... I’ll trust you."

"Good." Liam turned, already walking toward the direction of Block 1. "I should get going. Good night."

Sheila stood there, watching his back as he walked away beneath the lights, his calm presence a strange comfort even from afar. Her lips curved into a soft smile.

"Yeah... good night to you too, Liam," she whispered, before finally turning toward her own block and stepping inside.

***

As Liam climbed the final steps to the second floor, the quiet hum of the building’s nighttime stillness settled around him. He moved down the hallway with his usual unhurried stride, stopping right in front of his door. He reached for the handle, fully intending to slip inside, strip out of his uniform, and collapse into whatever passed for rest.

But before he could turn the knob, a soft click echoed from directly across the hall.

Liam turned his head, his expression indifferent at first—until he found Dylan leaning halfway out of his doorway with an infuriatingly wide, self-satisfied grin plastered across his face. His blond hair was tousled, his green eyes practically sparkling with mischief, and—of course—he was shirtless, wearing nothing but loose pants as if he had been waiting for this moment.

"Well, well, well," Dylan drawled, voice dripping with theatrical charm. "How was your sweet little night stroll with the Crescent Princess, lover boy?" He wiggled his brows as if he’d caught Liam committing a crime.

Liam raised a brow, unimpressed. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, come on, man. Don’t play dumb with me," Dylan said, stepping fully into the hallway with the confidence of someone who believed every hallway was his stage. "I know everything." He gestured dramatically. "The almost-kiss you two shared right before she headed back to her dorm? The long, lingering looks? The tension?" He nudged Liam with his elbow. "Bro, I’ve seen enough romance novels in my life to know where this is going."

He leaned in even closer, throwing an arm over Liam’s shoulder as if they were lifelong conspirators. "So, tell me. How interesting was tonight? Don’t hold out on me, man. I need details."

"You’re imagining things, Dylan," Liam replied flatly, shrugging the arm off. "Sheila and I don’t have that kind of relationship. And I don’t feel anything like that toward her. So spare me your nonsense."

He inserted the key in the lock and pushed the door open. "You should get some sleep. It’s late."

Without waiting for a response, he stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

Behind the door, Dylan stood frozen for a heartbeat, blinking. Then, slowly, a sly grin crawled across his face like a cat who had just found a secret passage.

"Oh, I see how you wanna play it," he whispered to himself, rubbing his hands together in devilish glee. "Hard to get, huh? Don’t worry, Liam boy... I’ll drag the truth out of you and Sheila soon enough."

He chuckled to himself as he retreated back into his own room.

Inside his dorm, Liam exhaled through his nose, already working at the buttons of his uniform shirt. "This uniform feels even more uncomfortable after not wearing it for a while," he muttered, peeling the fabric off his skin with faint irritation.

He tossed it aside and glanced toward the far corner near the door.

"Hey there, Mabel," he said calmly.

A faint shimmer flickered in the shadows, swirling like gathered mist before taking shape. Mabel stepped into full view, wearing her Royal Corps uniform, her posture as crisp and disciplined as always. She didn’t speak, but her presence settled into the room like a familiar shadow.

"I’ll be back in a moment," Liam said, already heading toward the bathroom. The soft hum of water soon followed, leaving the room wrapped in the quiet company of a ghostly guard awaiting her charge’s return.