Traces of a Night

Rose's Inn was bathed in warm light. A few hanging lanterns cast a golden glow over the polished wooden tables, and the smell of stewed food still lingered in the air, softening the evening mood.

Lys ate slowly, silent, her gaze fixed on her plate. Since her return, they had barely exchanged a few words. A few feet away, Rose was finishing serving a noisy table of hungry workers. As soon as she was finished, she wiped her hands on her apron and sat down opposite her niece.

"You're not saying much tonight, are you okay?" she said calmly.

"I'm just a little tired," Lys replied, avoiding her gaze.

"Um... Are you sure everything's okay?"

"I assure you I am, Auntie."

Rose didn't try to press the point. She knew her too well to force a confession.

"All right," she said simply. "But you know that if you ever need to talk, I'm here."

"I know." But... I also need to learn to solve my problems on my own."

Rose smiled softly, proud and a little worried at the same time.

"That's true. But that doesn't mean you have to carry everything alone either."

Lys didn't answer, just nodded. Rose then changed the subject:

"And Kyle? Do you know where he is?"

"No. He left the guild before me... I thought he'd be home by now. I hope nothing happened to him."

"You're worrying too much," Rose replied with a chuckle. "That boy may be hotheaded, but he's tough and he's seen a lot more than he lets on."

"He does act like an idiot sometimes, but... there's a lot more to him than he lets on."

"That's why I have such blind faith in him," Rose concluded warmly. 

"Me too... And yet, the fact that he hasn't come back yet makes me a little uneasy."

"Maybe he just came back to the guild after you left. He's already made decisions like that on a whim."

"Yes... maybe, he's the type to do that."

There was silence for a moment, then Rose continued, subtly changing her tone, becoming more serious:

"And you? Are you planning to respond to the Holy Empire's summons?"

Lys sighed, putting down her fork.

"They didn't tell me anything. Just an official summons, without any explanation... I don't even know what they want from me."

"It could be a link to your parents."

"I don't know. Maybe... or maybe it's something else."

"You won't be able to know without going there." 

"I know..."

At that precise moment, the inn door opened and a light draft blew in. Kyle entered, looking a little tired but calm. He scanned the room, and when he saw Lys and Rose sitting together at a table, he headed towards them.

"Good evening," he said simply.

"You're finally here!" Rose replied with a relieved smile.

"Sorry. I stopped by Gareth's to make some adjustments to my equipment... Then I walked around for a bit. I was lost in my thoughts, I didn't notice the time go by."

"Okay," Lys said, a little relieved.

"Would you like something to eat?" Rose offered.

Kyle raised his hands in refusal.

"No thanks, I already grabbed something on the way. I'm going upstairs to rest. Good night, you both."

"Good night, Kyle," said Lys.

"Good night," replied Rose.

He walked away slowly, up the stairs without looking back. Once his figure was out of sight, Lys lowered her gaze slightly.

Rose, attentive as always, murmured,

"He didn't say anything, but I can see something's up."

"...Maybe," replied Lys breathily.

She picked up her spoon again, half-heartedly, her heart a little heavier than when she'd arrived.

In the dim light of her room, the blue flashes of her lightning magic crackled gently around Kyle. The electrical filaments snaked through the air, briefly illuminating his tired face. It had become a habit, a way like any other to silence his thoughts before falling asleep.

But a sharp noise interrupted the silence: knock, knock, knock.

Kyle opened his eyes, a little surprised. He stood up slowly, dispersing his magic with the back of his hand, and approached the door. Opening it, he found Lys, her arms crossed in front of her, her eyes slightly lowered.

"Can I come in?" she asked timidly.

He nodded without answering, surprised but intrigued. She entered, her hands a little nervous, and stood for a moment before Kyle, still curious, broke the silence:

"Did you want to tell me something?"

"Yes..." she replied, still a little hesitant. "It's important." 

Kyle returned to sit on his bed, inviting her with a look to do the same, but she remained standing for the moment.

He sighed softly, trying to lighten the mood.

"If you're coming to see me at this hour, it must be really late."

"Richard accepted your request," she said suddenly, as if forcing the words out.

"What request?" Kyle asked, frowning slightly.

"The one to be granted freedom of movement..." she explained, approaching slowly. "Meaning... you could leave tomorrow if you wanted."

Kyle looked away for a moment, thoughtful.

"Ah... that. I wasn't even serious when I asked Eris to start the procedure," he admitted with a small, embarrassed smile.

 "You're unbelievable," Lys sighed, half relieved, half annoyed. "You always do things on a whim..."

"I can't help it," Kyle shrugged, his light tone contrasting with the intensity in Lys's eyes.

She finally came and sat down next to him. They were close, almost too close, but neither seemed ready to back down.

"So? Are you planning on staying?" she asked softly.

"There's nothing really keeping me here anymore," he said, staring into space.

A silence fell.

"Leaving tomorrow... wouldn't be a bad idea," he continued after a moment.

"Don't you think it's a bit rushed?"

"This kind of decision is in my nature. And besides... what could be more fitting than a hero who disappears into the night, silently, without promise, leaving behind the emptiness of silence?"

He smiled, a little ironically, a little sadly. He was about to continue, but the words stuck in his throat.

Lys, who until then had been listening to him without really looking at him, finally turned her head. A gentle, burning resolve flickered in her eyes, like a fragile spark ready to burn. She raised her hand, hesitant, and her fingers brushed his cheek—a light caress, but one pierced by shivers.

Then, without a word, she leaned down and kissed him.

It wasn't just a simple touch. Their breaths mingled, warm, uneven, and his lips lingered on hers with a vibrant tenderness, as if time could stand still there. Her fingers still trembled, but her kiss didn't: it carried everything she hadn't been able to say, everything she refused to lose.

Kyle stood frozen for a second, his heart pounding. His mind was still trying to sort itself out, but the momentum she'd just unleashed had engulfed him, like a wave too heavy to contain.

So he stopped struggling.

His eyelids closed, his hesitant hands found the curve of her waist, and he kissed her back.

He could have stopped. He had the strength. Lucidity too, even if it flickered like a flame caught in the wind. But the will was gone.

Lys stood above him, dominating him with her entire being. Her movements, timid at first, gained in firmness; Her palms slid over his chest, tracing burning furrows through the fabric of his tunic. Under the contact, his skin tightened, bristling with uncontrollable shivers. Each touch was a spark that spread, diffuse and throbbing, all the way to his stomach.

Her lips, pressed against his, vibrated with an almost feverish intensity. She kissed him as if holding someone back from the brink, as if each shared breath sealed a bond she refused to see extinguished. The kisses followed one another, insatiable, robbing him of his air, his balance, his retreat. His heart was pounding too hard. His breaths came in short, irregular bursts. His muscles tensed in spite of himself, shot through with a strange tension that oscillated between flight and surrender.

Kyle, on the other hand, was clumsy. Every gesture seemed to hesitate between yielding and retreating. His hands, sometimes clenched, sometimes lost, clung to her like an anchor. A dizziness seized him, a drunkenness he had never known.

He knew. Deep down, he knew what this further step, this shift, meant. This wasn't a game. Not a fleeting weakness. Lys wasn't just looking for a one-night stand. She wanted an answer, a refuge, a promise he'd never dared to make.

And that frightened him.

When she caught her breath, her forehead burning against his, he felt her heart pound, her short breaths mingling with his. His voice trembling, almost choked with emotion, he whispered,

"We should stop... If we continue... we'll go too far."

But she didn't back away.

On the contrary, her fingers slid along his cheek, brushing against the back of his neck, triggering shivers. She leaned closer, her warm breath caressing his ear, her lips brushing the sensitive skin of his temple.

 "So let me... just tonight... be even closer to you."

These words, barely a whisper, had the force of a thunderclap. Kyle opened his eyes again. She was looking at him with a mixture of doubt and courage. That look that said: I'm scared, but I'm here anyway.

All his barriers fell away.

He no longer thought. He no longer resisted.

And he let her take him.

The silence filled with the language of their bodies. Clumsy at first, clashing, then more fluid, more instinctive. Each movement carried the urgency of stolen moments, each snatched sigh deepened the furrow of this fragile bond. Shivers rose up his spine, his muscles tensed under each caress, his breathing matched hers in a panting, irregular rhythm.

Lys led, assured, ardent. She marked him with her gestures, as if to engrave in his flesh a memory he could never erase. And Kyle, despite his clumsiness, despite the fear of abandoning himself, let himself be swept away, carried by this vertigo.

It was neither a conquest nor a surrender. It was a suspended moment where two tormented beings ceased to be alone.

When night fell, Kyle was lying down, Lys curled against him, her fingers clinging to his tunic as if she feared he would disappear. His breath still hit her chest. His palm, placed on her bare waist, felt that lively heat, that stubborn beat that still bound them together.

Lying in the shadows, he felt Lys's breathing against him: a discreet warmth, the stubborn rhythm of a living heart, fragile and true.

His eyes stared at the ceiling, but he saw nothing. Neither the wood nor the stone. Only what was beating inside him. 

Dizziness.

An invisible thread had clung to his soul, impossible to tear away.

Like a door you open with no return.

Until now, he had walked like a stranger.

A spectator, a simple visitor to this world that wasn't his.

But tonight, something had changed.

Through her, he was no longer outside.

Through her, he was no longer alone.

He now belonged to this world because in her, he had found his anchor.

The morning light filtered gently through the loosely closed shutters, tracing pale lines on the loose sheets. A light breeze made the curtain ripple slightly, like a discreet breath from the outside world to disturb the silence of the room.

Lys was still asleep, curled up in the covers, her face half buried in the pillow. Her breathing was slow, peaceful, but her brows were furrowed, betraying inner tension. Then, a shiver ran through her.

She opened her eyes slowly. The world seemed different, as if the room no longer belonged to her. Absently, she groped for a presence beside her.

But there was nothing.

Just the warm emptiness of a bed that had grown cold on one side.

Her heart sank, though she didn't really know why. She sat up slowly, keeping the sheets wrapped around her, and looked around the room.

Kyle wasn't there.

The bed still bore the traces of their night: the rumpled sheets, Kyle's tunic discarded at the foot of the bed, and a charged, almost palpable atmosphere of silent emotions.

Lys ran a hand over her face, hesitant. She didn't know whether to feel sad, ashamed... or simply empty.

"That's just like him..." she whispered to herself, her voice hoarse. "He said it himself: this kind of departure is his style."

Her eyes remained fixed on the empty space beside her. A wave of emotions washed over her—a mixture of uncertainty, budding regret, and immediate nostalgia. But she took a deep breath, fighting the rising pain.

"This might be the last time..." she thought. "So I want to remember it without pain."

She pulled the sheets closer to her, curling up against them as if trying to seal in the last traces of her warmth. She remained like that for several minutes, motionless, absorbed by the silent tumult of her thoughts.

The outside world still seemed far away, yet so close.

But reality awaited her.

So, after a moment's hesitation, she stood up. Her bare feet touched the cold floor, making her shudder slightly. She gathered her clothes slowly, silently, avoiding any glances at the bed.

Before leaving the room, she took one last look around the room.

"The most important night of my life..."

Then she gently closed the door behind her.

 The mirror reflected the image of a young woman with still-tired features, her eyes reddened by a short but busy night. Lys splashed a little cool water on her face, hoping to wash away the visible traces of her distress.

Every movement was mechanical: putting on her clothes, combing her hair, fastening her cape. But beneath this routine, every fiber of her being felt heavier than usual.

She paused for a moment, her hand on the doorknob. Her reflection stared at her one last time. She nodded gently, as if to convince herself.

"Today, a new chapter begins."

The scent of warm bread and morning stew hung in the air. Voices rose here and there: customers chatting loudly, chairs scraping the floor, cutlery clinking against plates. The familiar rhythm of a bustling inn.

 Rose moved easily between the tables, her warm smile plastered on her lips despite the morning's fatigue. When she saw Lys coming down the steps, she gave her a little wave.

"Good morning, darling," she called. "Did you sleep well?"

Lys gave a small smile.

"Good morning, Auntie. Yes... almost."

"Would you like to have breakfast with me? I finally have a break."

"With pleasure."

They sat down at a table a little apart, away from the main hubbub. Rose served two steaming bowls of fruit porridge and a still-warm loaf of bread.

For a few minutes, they ate in silence. Then Rose looked up.

"Something's wrong, isn't it?"

Lys stopped eating. Her gaze remained fixed on her bowl. She hesitated.

"I'm just wondering... where Kyle is."

Rose raised an eyebrow slightly.

"What a question. He's probably still in his room. He hasn't come down yet."

"He's not," Lys interrupted softly, her voice husky.

A silence hung between them. Rose slowly put down her spoon.

"Really? I didn't see him leave..."

"He must have left very early." 

"Mh... it's true that he's the type to slip away quietly. But I hope his day at the guild goes well."

Lys lowered her head, her lips trembling slightly.

"He's... probably gone. For good."

Rose frowned.

"What makes you say that?"

Lys took a slow breath, then said in a calmer tone,

"The guild master granted him freedom of movement. He can go wherever he wants now."

Rose looked surprised, then shook her head gently.

"I see. But... even with that agreement, Kyle isn't the type to just leave like that. He's a little clumsy, sure, but not insensitive."

"Maybe..."

Rose watched her niece's eyes closely and understood. She didn't reply, but gently placed her hand on Lys's.

Once the meal was finished, Lys stood up. She thanked her aunt with a discreet gesture, grabbed her cloak, and headed for the exit.

"Have a nice day, Lys," Rose said, following her with her eyes.

Lys turned around, pausing for a moment. She looked up upstairs, toward the room she had just left a few hours earlier. Her gaze lingered there for a second.

Then she simply replied,

"Thank you... you too."

And she pushed open the door, letting in a fresh morning breeze.

The day had just begun.

But for her, it was no longer quite the same story.

The Adventurers' Guild buzzed like every morning. The polished wood floor creaked under the fighters' footsteps, and the scent of sweat, leather, and hot coffee hung in the air. The large bay windows let in a golden light, soft but bright, as if the world continued on its way, waiting for no one.

Lys pushed open the door silently. A light breeze followed her, making the papers on the bulletin board dance. She scanned the room, her eyes searching for a familiar figure... but nothing.

In a corner, sitting at a round table by the window, Elena was absentmindedly playing with a spoon, her chin resting on her palm. When she saw Lys, she looked up.

"Hi," Lys said with a half-smile as she approached.

"Hi, you," Elena replied, more energetically. Did you sleep well?

Lys nodded without really answering the question. She sat down slowly, her movements measured, as if her body weighed more than usual.

"So... what are we doing today?"

"We're waiting for the others," Elena replied with a shrug. "They shouldn't be long. Oh, and by the way... after you left yesterday, we asked Harry to join us. He accepted."

"Really? That's great!" Lys marveled, her eyes briefly lighting up. "I hope it'll do him some good."

"Me too. He seems to want to move forward. And between you and me... it's not so bad for the team. He's probably as strong as Kyle, if not even stronger, right?"

At the mention of that name, Lys's face froze. Her gaze wandered into space for a moment, her fingers tightening on the edge of the table.

Elena blinked.

"Hey, are you okay? Did I say something wrong?"

"No... no, it's nothing," Lys murmured without looking at her.

A slight silence fell. Then Elena continued, a little hesitant:

"Speaking of him... I saw him this morning when I arrived. He was leaving the guild. The weird thing is, he didn't even say a word to me."

"He came... here?" Lys whispered, more to herself than Elena. "But... why would he do it?"

Elena shrugged.

"What do you think? He probably came to pick up a quest. Like usual, right?"

Lys pursed her lips slightly. Her heart was beating a little faster. Something didn't seem right. Kyle... if he was really gone for good, then... why would he come this way?

 "We could always ask Eris," Elena offered pragmatically. "She knows everything that happens in this building."

Lys jumped up without even responding. Her footsteps echoed on the floorboards as she crossed the room toward the counter.

Behind the reception desk, Eris was filing forms with the precision of a watchmaker. She looked up, one eyebrow raised.

"Well... hello to you too," she said with a half-smile.

"Ah... hello, Eris. Sorry, I... I wanted to know... did Kyle stop by this morning?"

Eris stared at her for a moment, surprised by her hurried tone.

"Is there something wrong with you and Kyle?" she asked, arms crossed.

"No. Well, yes." No… well, I mean, it's complicated…”

Lys stopped, took a deep breath

“Sorry, I didn't even say hello properly.”

Eris sighed indulgently.

“From Kyle, I expect this kind of thing. But you? This is really weird.”

Lys lowered her head.

“I just wanted to know what he came for.”

Eris took a few seconds to think, her index finger tapping the wood of the counter.

“He did what he usually does. He chose a quest, scribbled his signature, and slipped out. Nothing unusual… except for the fact that he came so early.”

The relief was instant. It showed in the way Lys's shoulders slumped, in the slight mist that left her eyes.

 "So... he didn't leave," she whispered.

"You thought he ran away?" Eris asked more quietly.

Lys shook her head without answering. Her smile was shy, fragile. She looked away.

"Thank you, Eris... and sorry to have bothered you."

"Come back anytime,

but next time... with a proper hello."

Lys laughed softly, as if she'd just released an immense weight.

She returned to the table where Elena was waiting for her, a smile playing at the corner of her lips. More sincere, lighter.

"So?" Elena asked curiously.

"You were right," Lys replied, sitting down. "He just went off to complete a quest."

Elena tilted her head, narrowing her eyes.

"Why do you seem so happy about it?"

Lys looked away, running a hand through her hair.

"It's nothing."

But her smile never left her.

Lys and Elena exchanged these words in low voices, steaming cups in their hands. Lys occasionally glanced distractedly at the entrance to the guild, as if subconsciously waiting to see a familiar figure appear.

 Just then, the door opened with a slight draft, making the lanterns' flames flicker. A cheerful voice immediately spoke up.

"Heyyyy, girls!"

Iris, all smiles, waved from afar, waving vigorously. Beside her, Anne, looking calm, and Tristan, focused as always, followed suit. A little behind, Harry walked, hands in his pockets, visibly a little intimidated.

"You're finally here," Elena said with a small smile.

"Sorry for the delay," Tristan said, setting his bag against the bench. "We passed a strange merchant on the way..."

"And Harry made a quick stop to buy some potions," Anne added teasingly.

"Just to be on the safe side..." Harry replied, rubbing the back of his neck, a little embarrassed.

"It's okay," Elena said, shrugging. "So, Tristan, what's the plan for today?"

Tristan unrolled a small parchment on the table, smoothing its edges with the palm of his hand.

"A simple mission, to start with. Goblins have taken up residence in a series of caves to the south. Nothing too dangerous, but their numbers are starting to become a problem."

"Basically, an extermination mission," Anna summarized.

"Right," Tristan confirmed. "The goal is also to learn to synchronize, especially with Harry, who's new to the team."

"I hope I'm not a burden..." Harry murmured, lowering his head slightly.

"Are you kidding me?" Iris exclaimed, mock-outraged. "That's our job to tell you."

"Exactly," Lys added with a genuine smile. "And technically, you're the highest-ranking adventurer here."

 Harry shook his head gently.

"Rank isn't everything... Sometimes it just means you know how to survive."

"Or that you've stumbled upon the right quests," Iris winked.

"Indeed," Harry admitted, a half-smile on his lips.

Their laughter mingled for a moment with the background noise of the guild. Around them, the other groups of adventurers busied themselves, gathering supplies, discussing strategy, or joking about their previous adventures. The morning light was growing in intensity, streaming through the glass ceiling to make armor gleam and cast moving shards on the walls.

That lightness in the air... Lys clung to it like a breath of fresh air. The last few days had been heavy. Her heart wasn't quite healed yet. But there, surrounded by these familiar voices, this human warmth, she felt at home.

"Okay," said Anne, jumping up. "It's not that I'm impatient... but I am."

"Let's go," concluded Tristan, putting away his parchment.

Everyone grabbed their things, checked their weapons, adjusted their equipment. Complicit glances were exchanged. The team rose as one, as one well-oiled entity.

And in that suspended moment, Lys truly smiled.

Not a fake smile, nor a polite evasion. A real smile. Because even if a part of her remained worried, even if Kyle's shadow still hovered in her mind, she was moving forward.

She was breathing.

And she was no longer alone.