The night was silent, the kind of silence where every heartbeat felt louder than the world itself. Snow blanketed the roof and muffled the wind outside. Inside the small farmhouse, a faint warmth lingered in the air, but it wasn't enough to keep Sylvara from stirring.
Her eyes fluttered open, glowing faintly in the darkness. At first, she thought she was dreaming. Then, she heard it.
A voice.
A believer?
Her heart skipped. She still had followers? After all this time?
But the voice wasn't just any voice, it was familiar. Deep, husky, restrained yet trembling with emotion.
Lloyd?!
Sylvara sat up, clutching the blanket to her chest. She closed her eyes, focusing, letting the sound of his voice fill her mind.
"So," Lloyd's voice cracked faintly, as if he were speaking to someone who wasn't really there. "I haven't been taking care of you well."
A small breath left him, shaky and bitter.
"Sorry. After my parents… died, I stopped caring. I was never a believer to begin with, but my parents were, for some reason."
He paused, as though the words were hard to push out.
"I blamed you. If there was really a goddess out there, why did you kill my parents?!"
The sudden shout echoed in Sylvara's chest. She flinched, tears pricking her eyes. Lloyd was always so composed. She never thought she'd hear him like this.
"But… I know I'm being unfair." His voice softened, weighed down by years of pain. "What happened was inevitable. It was the villagers who pressured my dad to fight. And it was my dad who… let them pressure him. He walked into that dungeon portal when my mom and I begged him not to."
Sylvara pressed a trembling hand to her lips. So that's why he never talks to the other villagers.
"I don't know what happened in there. No one ever told me. Why was my dad the only casualty? What happened inside?!" His voice cracked.
"Why did my mom… take her life the same day? Why did she leave me alone to raise Nora? Why… why can't I be someone's priority for once?"
Sylvara's tears finally broke free, slipping down her cheeks. His pain wasn't just words, she could feel it, raw and burning, tearing at her heart.
Lloyd, I'll make sure you experience love and only love.
His voice steadied just barely. "Gods and goddesses… they're supposed to be figures of hope. So I'll start praying for a better future. Oh mighty goddess, please accept my humble offerings."
He placed his offerings, sweet carrots and roasted pork, before the shrine.
In Sylvara's hands, the offerings appeared, glowing faintly before settling solid in her grasp. She gasped, overwhelmed by the warmth radiating from them. Her power, long dormant, stirred. Weak, but alive.
She raised her hand, white mana curling like silk around the food. Light consumed it, breaking it into tiny shimmering particles that faded into her pocket space.
Progress. Small, but real.
…
Lloyd returned home, his steps heavy but his heart strangely lighter. The night air clung to him when he opened the door. Inside, everything was silent. Nora was asleep. The fire had gone out.
He trudged to his room, expecting emptiness, only to see a small bump under his comforter.
The lump shifted, and a head popped out, pink hair glimmering faintly in the dim light, emerald eyes curving into a smile.
"You're back," Sylvara said, her voice gentle. "Where did you go?"
Lloyd blinked at her. "I was out for a walk. Couldn't sleep."
He hung his jacket, then slipped into bed beside her.
She tilted her head. "Aren't you going to ask why I'm here?"
"Too tired for questions," he muttered, eyes half-closed. "Talk later."
Sylvara only smiled, moving closer. She buried her face into his chest, inhaling the faint scent of snow and smoke that clung to him. Her arms wrapped around his waist, holding him as if she'd never let go.
Lloyd closed his eyes, the tension in his shoulders melting.
Sylvara tilted her head up, watching him. The quiet between them wasn't empty; it was thick with emotion, unspoken words, and the pounding of two hearts that somehow aligned.
Without warning, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his. Just a quick peck.
Lloyd's eyes snapped open, stunned.
"What was that for?" he asked, voice rough.
Her hand cupped his cheek, fingers feather-light, the other slipping to the back of his neck.
"Lloyd," she whispered, emerald eyes shimmering with sincerity. "I really want to kiss you again. I think I like you a bit too much."
No teasing. No games. Just honesty.
Lloyd's breath hitched. Heat rushed to his face,
"Y-You can… kiss me," he muttered, voice trembling. "I don't mind."
Sylvara's lips curved into the brightest smile. Then she pulled him to her.
Their mouths met again, this time with no hesitation. The kiss was soft at first, slow, a gentle brush of lips that made the world outside disappear. But then, as if something inside them both snapped, it deepened. Her hand tightened against his neck, his own arms instinctively circling her waist, pulling her closer until there was no space between them.
Warmth spread through Lloyd's chest, melting the cold that had lived there for years. He kissed her back, clumsy at first, but with growing need. Her fingers threaded through his hair, and she hummed against his lips, a sound so sweet it made his heart ache.
When they finally pulled away, breathless, their foreheads rested together. Sylvara's cheeks were flushed, her eyes reflecting only him.
Lloyd's breathing was uneven, his usually stoic expression shattered by something softer, something real.
"You're warm," she whispered, smiling faintly.
He swallowed, still holding her close. "…So are you."