The mansion was far too silent that night.
It wasn't a comfortable silence, the kind that comes after a productive day. It was a silence full of unspoken thoughts, of sentences that died before reaching the mouth. Every step echoed more than it should, every closed door seemed to carry an invisible weight.
I walked through the corridors without a defined destination. The mission had been simple, efficient, almost automatic. In combat, everything worked. Outside of it, something remained suspended.
I ended up stopping in the main room.
Liriel was sitting on the couch, reading without really reading. Elara was watching the garden through the window, arms crossed. Vespera remained leaning against the wall, attentive to everything, as always.
No one said anything for a few seconds.
"If we keep going like this, this is going to break us," I said.
Elara slowly turned her head. "I thought you were never going to say it."
Liriel closed the book carefully. "I thought so too."
Vespera crossed her arms. "Then say it. No detours."
I took a deep breath before continuing.
"Since that night, we've been walking in circles. Pretending everything is normal, but avoiding any real conversation."
"Because we're afraid of the answer," Liriel said quietly.
"Or because we're afraid of changing what already exists," Elara added.
I walked to the center of the room. "I don't want this to turn into a crack in the group."
"Neither do we," Vespera replied. "But ignoring it won't fix anything."
The silence returned, heavier.
"I don't regret it," I said. "But I also don't know exactly how to move forward."
Liriel looked at me directly. "Do you think we do?"
She stood up and faced me.
"We went through hunger, cold, constant fear. We slept in bad beds, shared the little we had. Through all of that, we were always clear. Now, when we finally have stability, we become confused."
"Maybe because now we have something to lose," Elara said.
Vespera approached slowly. "Before, we only survived. Now we are choosing."
Those words hung in the air.
"I don't want any of you to feel like it was a mistake," I said. "Nor to think that it was just… empty impulse."
"It wasn't," Liriel replied too quickly.
Elara nodded. "It wasn't for me."
Vespera kept her gaze firm. "If it were, we wouldn't be like this."
I sat on the couch, running a hand over my face.
"So what do we do?" I asked.
No one answered immediately.
Liriel sat beside me. "Maybe we start by being honest."
"Honest how?" I asked.
"No promises for now. No definitive decisions," she said. "But without pretending nothing happened."
Elara sat on the other side. "We continue as a group. We continue as we are. And we see where this takes us."
Vespera remained standing, but her voice softened. "And if at any point this starts to get in the way, we talk. We don't keep it inside."
I looked at the three of them.
"Are you sure?" I asked. "This can get complicated."
Liriel smiled faintly. "Our life always has been."
Elara let out a short laugh. "Complicated is kind of our natural state."
Vespera tilted her head. "The mistake would be pretending indifference."
The weight in my chest eased a little.
"Then we move forward together," I said. "Without running away."
"Without running away," Liriel repeated.
"Without pretending," Elara added.
"Without lying to ourselves," Vespera concluded.
We stayed there for a while longer, talking about small things. The mission, the merchants' reaction, the looks at the guild. Simple subjects, but necessary, as if we were rebuilding something delicate piece by piece.
Later, each of them went to their room.
I remained in the living room, alone.
I looked around. The mansion still felt too big, too empty for something we called home. But for the first time since the move, I didn't feel out of place.
The words we had avoided had finally been spoken.
And even without definitive answers, that was already a beginning.
When I lay down that night, I realized something important.
It wasn't the danger of the missions that scared me the most now.
It was the responsibility of choosing, of building something that didn't depend only on strength or skill.
And, strangely, that scared me more than any demon general I had ever faced.