NOVEL NEXT Chapter 35: Between the Silence
The silence in the Veil of Sirocco was not merely an absence of sound—it was an oppressive hush woven with magic, as if the very fabric of the realm conspired to keep its secrets hidden. Every footstep and every clink of armor was swallowed by the void, leaving Albion with only the pounding of his heart as an anchor in this strange, shifting world.
Ahead, Adele moved with an effortless grace, her dark hair catching fleeting glimmers of light as if imbued with its own ethereal luminescence. Yet even she, normally so sure and commanding, carried a weight that spoke of battles fought both without and within. The magic around them—a palpable current in the air—seemed to pulse in response to every step they took, a quiet, living chorus hinting at secrets shared only by the Veil.
Albion's thoughts churned with questions as he kept pace beside her. There was always something about Adele that stirred him—a magnetic pull that transcended the chaos of war. Her power, her steadfast resolve, and now, in the midst of this unnatural quiet, the subtle tremor of vulnerability that shadowed her movements. It was as if the magic itself recognized what they shared.
Breaking the heavy silence, Albion spoke, his voice low and tentative. "Adele… what are we doing?"
Without halting her forward stride, she replied, "We're passing through."
But Albion pressed on, words tumbling out as if trying to catch the elusive magic between them. "No—I mean, what are we doing, you and me? We're always running, always fighting, and yet there's this… quiet space, a magic that feels like it's trying to tell us something."
At these words, the air around them shimmered subtly, as if the Veil itself were drawing closer, eager to listen. Adele slowed and turned to face him, her eyes softening with a mixture of resolve and tender uncertainty. "What do you mean, Albion?" she asked, her voice carrying the calm of a storm held at bay.
He ran a hand through his hair and let out a heavy sigh. "When does it stop? The fighting, the endless running—when do we find a moment to simply be? I'm tired of the noise, and I can't ignore this feeling any longer."
For a moment, the magic around them stirred, echoing his longing. In the dim light of the Veil, a gentle, luminescent glow began to pulse at their feet—a quiet response to their unspoken truth. Adele's eyes flickered with a deep, familiar sorrow as she stepped closer. "I've been so focused on survival that I forgot there could be something more," she murmured, her voice catching for a fraction as a memory from a long-forgotten past—when she was once free of duty and pain—flitted unbidden through her mind.
"I used to sing," she added, almost to herself. "Before all this." A memory stirred—sunlight on stone walls, a girl's voice rising over a courtyard, before the world turned to ash.
The words hovered between them, fragile and unexpected. Albion felt something shift—saw, for the first time, a girl beneath the commander, someone who had once lived without walls.
He tried to picture it: Adele before the war, her voice rising in some forgotten meadow. It felt impossible. It felt right.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
She reached out to gently touch his arm; her fingertips left tiny, glowing traces in the air—fleeting symbols of a magic that was uniquely theirs.
Albion felt the warmth of her touch spread through him, mingling with the pulsating light around them. "We're more than survivors, Adele. What's the point of this endless fight if we never learn why we're fighting? I need to believe there's something more—something worth holding onto."
The magic responded then, a delicate cascade of shimmering particles dancing between them. It was as if the Veil itself recognized the truth in his words. In that luminous haze, their souls seemed to intertwine—a quiet, potent bond that reached far beyond the physical, resonating deep within the very essence of the world around them.
Adele's gaze softened, and for the first time, the steely resolve in her eyes gave way to vulnerability. "I've spent so long protecting everyone else that I built a wall around myself," she confessed in a whisper, the words fragile yet real. "I never thought I could let someone in—let you in."
Albion's heart clenched as he reached for her hand. The contact sent a surge of radiant, almost musical magic through his veins, echoing in the air like a secret song. "You don't have to protect me," he said softly. "I'm here with you. We don't have to face this endless battle alone."
In that charged silence, the magic between them grew bolder—a delicate, pulsing aura that wrapped around their joined hands. It was as if the Veil celebrated their newfound connection, letting them share its ancient, quiet power. With a courage that surprised them both, Albion raised his free hand and gently cupped Adele's cheek, his thumb tracing patterns that sparked tiny bursts of light in the dark air. Adele closed her eyes, leaning into the warmth of his touch, and when she opened them, they shone with a quiet hope that had long been hidden.
"I've never known how to let someone in," she whispered, voice trembling like the final note of a long-forgotten melody. "Not like this."
Without another word, Albion leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. Their kiss was gentle at first, a tentative exploration of the magic that had built up between them, then deepened—an unspoken promise shared under the watchful, shimmering eye of the Veil. The air around them pulsed with light, and for a moment, all the turmoil, the relentless struggle of war and magic, melted away.
Suddenly—
Not a pulse.
A judgment.
A deep, low thrumming rose from the ground, vibrating through Albion's bones, through Adele's fingertips still pressed against his. The Veil itself seemed to breathe in—a terrible, slow inhale, as if the world had scented something it did not yet understand, and decided it might not allow.
The light around them shuddered.
The soft, shimmering particles that had celebrated their bond flickered like dying stars.
Adele stiffened, hand tightening on his without thinking. Her eyes lifted toward the swirling sky.
"Albion."
His name was barely a whisper, but it hit like a war-drum.
The Veil wasn't just noticing them.
It was changing.
Watching.
Deciding.
In that embrace, the Veil itself seemed to join their dance—a subtle, echoing glow rippling outward, carrying with it the silent vow of the universe. When they finally broke apart, breathless and trembling, the luminous magic that had surrounded them lingered like an unspoken benediction.
"I never thought this could happen," Adele murmured, her voice as soft as the glow around them. "Not for us."
Albion smiled gently, his heart light despite the heaviness of their world. "Neither did I. But I'm glad it did."
A tender laugh escaped her lips, a sound both fragile and defiant. "We always seem to find the worst places for these moments."
Looking around at the shifting sands and the dark, enchanted sky above, Albion chuckled. "Yeah, the Veil isn't exactly the most romantic spot in Avalon."
"But it's ours," she replied, her smile warm and genuine.
Then it came—a sharp pulse, deep and low, echoing from the Veil itself. Like a breath held too long suddenly released. The air trembled. The light dimmed just for a heartbeat.
In that quiet, magical space—where every heartbeat sent ripples of light across the desolate landscape—Albion and Adele stood together. Their joined magic, fragile yet resilient, was a beacon of hope amid the ceaseless silence. And though Albion's mind warned him that this moment was as transient as the glow of a dying star, for now, they had each other, and the magic between them was enough to light the way forward.
Something had noticed them. Or stirred.
Then silence again, too still, too knowing.
Just as they lingered in that enchanted embrace, a sudden tang—a brief, almost imperceptible flicker of danger, as if the realm itself were disturbed. The moment shivered on the brink of threat before settling back into its hushed glow, a silent prelude to the next trial awaiting them.
For now, in the hush of the Veil and the warmth between them, they held on to this fleeting truth—a promise of life, hope, and a love that dared to shine in the darkness.