The silence in the clearing was heavy.
Aeron just stared at the letter, his mind refusing to process its meaning.
It couldn’t be true. It just... couldn’t.
"..." Livia was the first to break out of the shock.
Something about the letter didn’t sit right with her. She didn’t believe in her guess, no matter how logical it sounded.
"Aeron," she said, her voice softer now. "Let’s read the other one."
Her words snapped him out of it.
"..."
He looked down at the second, unopened letter in his lap. With a shaky hand, he picked it up. Maybe this one would explain everything. Perhaps they were overthinking it.
Maybe...
Barely gathering courage, Aeron broke the seal on the second letter.
The handwriting was a lot different from the first one. The writer was obviously someone else.
"..."
His eyes scanned the first few lines.
He forced himself to read.
’... I, Emilia von Aveline, being of sound mind, do hereby declare...
...my private townhouse at 7 Silverveil Lane in the capital, unentailed from the main family estate...
...all monetary assets held in my personal account, totaling approximately 102.25 million aura coins...
...I bequeath in their entirety to Aeron...’
The words on the page blurred.
Aeron’s fingers went numb.
The letter slid from his grasp, drifting to the grass like a dead leaf.
He didn’t even feel it leave his hand.
His body froze — utterly still, utterly hollow.
Livia’s breath hitched. Her hand flew to her mouth as if trying to hold in the sound, but it escaped anyway — a broken gasp. Tears welled instantly, unbidden, spilling over before she could even attempt to stop them.
"A-Aeron..." Her voice cracked.
She didn’t wait for him to respond.
She threw her arms around him, clutching him with trembling desperation, burying her face against his shoulder. The moment she touched him, she shattered... soft, pained sobs spilling out as though something deep inside her had finally snapped.
She held him as tightly as she could, but Aeron didn’t move.
He just sat there, rigid as carved stone.
His eyes... lost their shine. The color dimmed, the life drained. A hollow, glassy emptiness settled into them. A young man who had fought, hoped, and dreamed now looked like someone who had forgotten how to breathe.
Livia cried harder at the sight because she could feel it.
The last thread of rationality, the one thin thing holding both of them together... it was gone.
"..."
Time passed.
Minutes.
Or hours.
The clearing lay in muted silence, save Livia’s quiet sobs that slowly, slowly weakened.
And still Aeron didn’t speak. Didn’t blink. Didn’t react.
Then—
A whisper.
’...she’s not dead.’
A faint voice echoed within his mind, subtle as a breath, almost too soft to notice.
’...she’s still alive.’
It repeated, again and again — each time firmer, sharper, rising from a murmur to something almost alluring. But Aeron sat unmoved, untouched by the insistence.
He simply ignored it.
’...’
The voice then fell silent.
But only for a heartbeat.
’...if you stay like this, she is definitely gonna die.’
Aeron’s eyes twitched.
A tiny spark cut through the emptiness.
A glint, barely there, but enough to disturb the dead calm inside him.
His brows furrowed faintly.
His voice, when it finally emerged, was cold... Deadly cold.
’...What are you trying to say?’
’...’ The alluring voice stayed silent for a moment before answering. ’...Let’s talk after you’ve calmed down. Alone.’
’...Alright.’ Aeron agreed. It’s not like he had any other choice now anyway.
He shifted his gaze to Livia, who had already stopped crying. But she wasn’t alright — not even close.
She sat there frozen, shoulders trembling faintly, her face streaked with tears. Her expression was hollow, as if she were trying to be strong but had already run out of strength hours ago. Her hands were still gripping his sleeve, unconsciously, like she was afraid that letting go would make everything collapse for real.
She looked just like him... lost.
Fragile in a way he never wanted to see.
Aeron felt something faint in his chest — a flicker of warmth, of gratitude.
She stayed. Even when he couldn’t move. Even when he felt like a corpse pretending to sit upright.
"...Livia." He whispered softly. "Let’s go back. To the dorm."
She slowly lifted her head.
Her eyes were swollen, red, still glossy with the remnants of tears. She blinked once, twice, trying to focus on him.
"Mmm..." She weakly nodded. He stood and gently helped her to her feet. She wobbled a little, and he placed a hand on her back until she steadied.
Then, Aeron escorted her all the way to her dorm building. Before entering, Livia turned, as if she wanted to say something — anything. But no words came.
She simply squeezed his sleeve again — just for a second — then disappeared inside.
Aeron remained still for a moment before turning away and heading toward his own dorm.
______ ___ _
After locking the door, Aeron entered the bedroom and sat down, facing the blank wall. His hands rested on his knees, loose but controlled. His breathing was slow, steady... unnaturally calm.
"...You can come out now."
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then the air trembled — just faintly, like a ripple passing across unseen water.
Slowly, a silhouette formed in front of him.
Soft particles of pale light gathered and curved, shaping into delicate limbs, graceful contours, and flowing hair that moved despite the still air.
Within seconds, a phantom of a beautiful woman fully materialized before him — serene, ethereal, her presence both warm and cold at once. Her eyes held a strange, knowing glimmer as she regarded him.
She floated inches above the floor, an enchanting smile playing on her lips.
"We meet again, darling." Her voice was gentle, musical — the kind meant to soothe.
However, Aeron didn’t even blink.
"...What did you mean earlier?" he said, tone flat as cold iron. "Explain."
Her smile widened, amused by his lack of patience.
"My, my... impatient, are we?" She let out a soft chuckle, gliding a little closer. "I just appeared, and you’re already interrogating me."
Aeron remained indifferent.
Vespera tilted her head, strands of ethereal hair drifting like smoke.
"...Fine," she said lightly. "I’ll tell you... But you have to promise me something first."
Aeron squinted for a bit. "...Alright. What is it?"
Her smile brightened, growing warmer, almost girlishly pleased.
"You know it all too well," she hummed. "I just want to be with you again."
Aeron gave a single, curt nod. "...Fine."
He didn’t mean it, and they both knew it. But the agreement alone seemed to satisfy her. With a graceful wave of her hand, she summoned a phantom chair woven from shadow and pale light, settling into it as if holding court.
"What I am about to say may sound unbelievable," she began, her playful tone fading into something more serious. "It is your choice whether to believe me." She paused, letting the silence build. "That girl, Emilia... is still alive. But..."
"?"
"If you don’t do something soon... she’s going to die for real."
Aeron’s frown deepened, his knuckles tightening on his knees.
"Explain more clearly."
"She..." Vespera leaned forward, her phantom chair creaking softly. "She is afflicted with an illness known as E.S.S."
"...E.S.S.?" Aeron raised his brow in confsuion. "What is that?"
Vespera crossed one leg over the other atop her phantom chair, her ethereal dress shifting like mist.
"It’s a congenital condition," she explained, "something she has had since birth. Most never notice it early on — the symptoms are subtle, barely disruptive. Fatigue, little lapses in consciousness, irregular breathing... harmless things, at first."
Aeron’s gaze sharpened.
"But the illness progresses," Vespera continued, voice lowering, almost whisper-like. "Slowly. Quietly. And once it reaches its final stage..."
She lifted her hand and made a delicate, falling motion — like a leaf drifting to the ground.
"...the patient simply closes their eyes one day."
She snapped her fingers.
"And never wakes up again."
"..."
Aeron clenched his fists even more, the scene playing in his mind.
Vespera leaned forward slightly, her eyes shimmering with a somber, almost ancient knowing.
"That is the Eternal Sleep Syndrome."