The night didn't arrive all at once.
It dragged itself slowly over the shelter, erasing sounds, erasing movement, erasing any sense of normality. The sky was too clear, the stars too visible, as if everything were calm just to mock what was happening inside me.
I couldn't sleep.
I lay down, closed my eyes, tried to control my breathing, but my body refused rest. Every thought pulled another. Every silence seemed to ask something I didn't want to answer.
I got up before the restlessness turned into anger.
Outside, the air was cold. I sat near a nearly extinguished fire, watching the weak embers struggle to stay alive. Tomorrow I would begin the forbidden method. Tomorrow I would cross a limit I wasn't sure should exist.
"You always do this."
The voice came from behind me. Calm. Familiar.
"Staying awake when you think you need to think too much," Elara added.
"It's not thinking too much," I replied. "It's thinking enough."
She sat beside me without asking permission. She never asked. The silence between us wasn't awkward. It was comfortable, heavy, full of unspoken things.
"I reviewed everything again," she said. "Every detail of the method."
"Did you find any way to make this safe?" I asked.
Elara let out a short sigh. "Safe, no. Less destructive, maybe."
"That's already something."
She turned her face toward me. "You're not treating this the way you should."
"How should I?" I asked.
"With fear," she replied. "You're too calm."
I thought for a moment before answering. "If I start being afraid now, I won't do it tomorrow."
She lowered her gaze. "And if you don't do it tomorrow?"
"Then we face the Sixth General knowing I didn't do everything I could."
Elara stayed silent for a few seconds, then spoke more softly. "That would destroy you more than any method."
Before I could respond, light footsteps approached. Vespera emerged from the darkness carrying two mugs.
"You both looked way too serious," she said. "So I brought something to make it worse."
"Is that a drink?" I asked.
"Something like that," she replied, sitting on my other side. "I stole it from the wrong reserve."
I took a sip and made a face. "Horrible."
"Works better that way," she said. "Distracts."
Elara watched Vespera closely. "You don't look worried."
"I am," Vespera replied. "I just don't like showing it."
She looked straight at me. "You're really going to do this."
"I am."
"Even knowing it could break something that won't come back?" she insisted.
"Yes."
She gave a sideways smile. "Consistent idiot."
The wind blew harder at that moment. The fire's flames nearly went out.
That was when I felt the presence before I even saw her.
Liriel walked toward us in silence. There was no arrogance in her steps. No superiority. Just something serious, almost solemn.
"So this is where you're hiding the stupidest part of the group," she said.
"You came to complain," Vespera commented.
"I came to observe," Liriel replied, sitting in front of us.
She stared at me for a long time. The look wasn't anger. It was deep analysis, as if she were trying to see something beyond me.
"You shouldn't accept this method," she said.
"I know," I replied.
"You don't know enough," she shot back. "This kind of practice doesn't just destroy the body. It alters the axis of existence."
"I'm not a god," I replied.
"Exactly," she said. "And that's why it's dangerous."
Elara nodded slowly. "There's a risk of permanent rupture."
"So we all agree," I replied. "And yet here we are."
Liriel closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, there was something rare there. Genuine concern.
"Do you understand what you're doing for us?" she asked.
"Yes."
"No," she corrected. "Do you understand what you're doing to yourself?"
I took a while to answer.
"I know I might lose something," I said at last. "But I know exactly what I lose if I don't try."
The silence fell heavily.
Vespera was the first to speak. "He's always been like this."
"Too persistent," Elara added.
"Too human," Liriel concluded.
She stood up slowly. "I hate this decision."
"I know," I replied.
"But I won't stop you," she continued. "Because you've already decided."
She took a few steps and stopped. "Don't die. I don't like losing things I chose to protect."
Vespera stood up soon after. "If you become a problem, I'll deal with it."
I smiled. "I'm counting on it."
Elara stayed behind.
She didn't say anything for a while. She just held my hand. The touch was firm, warm, real.
"Regardless of what happens," she said, "you don't carry this alone."
"I know," I replied.
When she stood up and left, I was alone again.
I watched the fire finally go out.
That night wasn't about rest.
It was about accepting the price before paying it.
When the sky began to lighten on the horizon, something inside me had already changed.
The night had broken.
And so had I.