Elias's brow furrowed deeply, his gaze wavering between Alia's face and the fragments of memory that still clung stubbornly in his heart. His throat tightened, as though the words themselves resisted release. Drawing in a long breath, his voice came out low, roughened, and trembling at the edges:
"I… I've always carried feelings for Livia. Even if I never dared to voice them, I stayed silently at her side. But now… now you inhabit her body, and I—" His chest rose and fell unevenly, "I've realized that I feel something for you as well."
He lowered his head, fingers unconsciously gripping at the hem of his tunic. "Sometimes I question whether I am betraying my own devotion, betraying the oath I made in my heart. I wonder if I am faithless in love. Yet I can't deny this emotion—it lives here, inside me—and no matter how hard I try, I cannot turn it away."
Alia held his gaze, her expression calm, softened by compassion but weighted with thought and gravity. She nodded slowly, her tone quiet yet firm:
"I understand your honesty, and I appreciate your courage in admitting this. But… you must also see the truth—this is still Livia's body. The question you face is whether you love a body, or a soul. That itself is a philosophical dilemma."
A faint sigh slipped from her lips, tinged with helpless composure. "But right now, we cannot allow ourselves to linger on this. Whatever feelings bind us, or threaten to divide us, they must stand aside. The first and most important task is to gather the Grails and rescue the true Livia. Only when she has returned can we confront what all of this means."
Elias's chest tightened, a storm of conflicting emotions rising within him—guilt, longing, and something he could not quite name. His fists clenched as though he were vowing silently to himself: no matter what confusion love brought, he would save Livia first. The rest could wait.
Seeing his expression, Alia's lips curved faintly, a glimmer of determination sparking in her eyes. "Then let us begin with the Grails. Everything starts from there."
The air between them shifted. The conversation no longer circled hesitantly but settled into steady rhythm, into the hard truths of survival in the shadows. As Elias listened, surprise welled within him again and again.
The girl before him was no mere wanderer. She spoke with precision about how to vanish within alleyways, how to slip unseen past a pursuer's line of sight. She described in careful detail how to scavenge food and water when there was nothing left, how to use coded signals, how to switch routes in an instant, how to crack a stalemate when all paths seemed sealed. Her clarity, her almost ruthless pragmatism, revealed a strength far beyond what he had imagined.
Alia seemed to sense the relief of no longer needing to hide. With a lighthearted motion, she rolled up her sleeves. A teasing smile touched her lips, tinged with pride. From her belt she drew a slender dagger, and with a flick of her wrist it danced in the firelight.
The blade spun between her fingers, glinting silver, as if it were part of her body. It leapt from palm to back of her hand in effortless arcs, fast and fluid yet controlled, never once betraying danger. Then, with smooth grace, she demonstrated silent takedown techniques: her steps soft, precise, feline, her body flowing like a predator weaving through shadow.
Elias watched, transfixed. The fire cast her silhouette in sharp relief—every motion supple, every flicker of steel alive with poise. There was something spellbinding in her focus, her unwavering calm. And in her eyes—those steady, unblinking eyes—he caught a glimmer of warmth, so achingly familiar that it struck him to the core.
His chest tightened, breath faltering. In that moment, he no longer knew—was he gazing upon Alia, the fierce and untamed girl before him, or was it Livia, the woman who still lived in his heart and dreams?