Chapter 67 — Lanterns and Shadows
Blade followed Liora through the narrow streets branching off from the main festival crowd. Lanterns floated lazily above, drifting with the cold winter wind, and music from performers mingled with the distant chatter of the festival.
"I want you to meet my family," Liora said, her voice light but steady. "We usually celebrate the Silver Festival together at the bar downtown. It's small, but… cozy."
Blade nodded, adjusting his coat. He hadn't been inside a place like this in years—no gang, no shadows, just warm light and people laughing. It was strange. Good strange.
The bar smelled of roasted coffee beans and warm pastries. Liora's parents waved from a corner table, their smiles cautious but welcoming.
"Liora! You brought a friend!" her mother said warmly.
Blade felt his chest tighten slightly. They didn't know him, and yet the kindness in their eyes made him instinctively straighten, trying to look… normal.
"This is Blade," Liora said simply. "We met in… a game."
Her father raised an eyebrow. "A game, huh?"
"Yes," she replied. "He's… special. Helped me a lot there."
Blade murmured a soft greeting, hands in pockets, eyes glancing briefly at the glowing silver decorations. He kept his distance initially, still scanning the room like he always did, though less sharply than in the field.
Over pastries and hot drinks, Liora introduced him to her younger siblings, and for the first time in years, Blade let himself laugh quietly, not calculating anything, not preparing for ambushes or traps—just the sound of human warmth.
"Silver Festival only comes once a year," Liora said, leaning slightly forward. "I thought… maybe you'd enjoy it with me."
Blade smiled faintly. "I… did." The words were small, but heavy with the truth of thirteen years of missing normalcy.
After a few moments, Liora leaned back. "What about your family?" she asked softly, curiosity mixing with care.
Blade's expression stiffened. His hands tightened around the mug. Silence stretched.
The warmth of the bar suddenly felt distant. Memories of the Wilson mansion, the parents who still waited, the emptiness of years lost—everything pressed down. He didn't speak.
Liora noticed immediately. "I… I'm sorry," she whispered, lowering her gaze. "I didn't mean to—"
Blade shook his head lightly. "…It's fine," he said finally, voice quiet. Not angry, not cold. Just… hollow for a moment.
The silence wasn't awkward. It was shared. Liora understood without needing an explanation. She reached for her mug again, still looking at him with careful attention, giving him space while silently telling him: I see you. And it's okay.
Blade let his gaze drift to the silver lanterns outside the window. His heart ached, yes—but for the first time in years, it wasn't just pain. There was something else too: the quiet possibility that even after everything, warmth could exist again.
And at the edge of the festival, the lanterns rose higher, drifting above Snowstar, carrying light into the night, mirroring the slow, subtle stirrings of hope in Blade's chest.