The quiet had returned, but it wasn't peace. It was the silence that settles before something shifts. Silas could feel it in his bones.
Cass and Velira met him outside the library steps, just beneath the ever-dim sky. A faint glow from the upper spires cast a washed hue over their faces. Velira had brought three flatbread wraps—thin, simple, filled with mashed roots and a touch of preserved meat. She handed them out without a word.
"You're not eating?" Cass asked her.
"Already did," Velira said, sitting beside Silas and bumping his shoulder. "You need it more. You look like someone stole your bones."
Silas gave a half-smile. "That's oddly accurate."
They sat in silence for a few minutes, just listening to the distant hum of the city—the quiet shuffle of carts, low chants from the cathedral's distant ceremonies, and the occasional crackle of static light from high above.
Cass leaned back on his hands. "Feels strange, doesn't it? To be out here, doing normal things after... everything."
"It does," Velira admitted. "We've seen people die. And then there's a festival like nothing ever happened."
"Because if we stopped for every loss," Silas said, voice low, "we'd never move again."
Cass glanced at him, thoughtful. "You sound older than you look."
Silas didn't answer.
Cass pushed a bit of dust with his boot. "My Light Path training—strict. Every moment was regulated. They taught us how to channel, how to purify, how to illuminate things even when we didn't want to see them. But none of that prepared me for you two."
Velira chuckled. "You're welcome."
"No, seriously," Cass said. "I've seen Velira drown a monster with a spell she learned two days ago, and Silas—you terrify most of the trainers."
"Good," Silas muttered, chewing slowly. "Fear is better than pity."
"That's not what I meant. You push the world like you're not sure if it's real."
That struck something. Silas looked down, eyes clouding for a moment. "Sometimes I wonder if it's not."
Velira watched him closely but didn't press. "You're here. That's what matters."
Cass smiled. "And you've got us."
"For now," Silas said, trying to make it sound light, but it came out more like a warning.
Velira nudged his knee. "Then let's make now count."
They spent the rest of the evening like that. Talking about nothing, joking about everything. Cass told a story about accidentally walking into the priest's private meditation pool. Velira mocked him relentlessly. Silas even laughed—a rare, honest one that startled both of them.
"There it is!" Velira pointed. "I knew you had a laugh in there."
"Don't get used to it," Silas said, smirking.
But as the night wore on and they began to part ways, he found himself lingering.
"Thanks," he said quietly.
Cass gave a small nod. Velira smiled. "Anytime."
And as they disappeared into the shadowed streets, Silas remained for a moment longer under the dim spires, letting the moment settle.