Chapter 16: Morning Whispers and Wandering Winds
The scent of rain still lingered in the air when Lina awoke.
Soft morning light filtered through Cilia's wooden window shutters, dancing gently on the faded tapestries that hung on the walls. The room smelled of sun-dried flowers and old wood. Lina blinked slowly, buried beneath a heavy woolen blanket, warm and safe.
Cilia was still asleep beside her, hugging a plush rabbit toy with ears that had been stitched back on many times. Her hair spread across her pillow like a curtain of night, the tips still faintly damp from yesterday's rain.
Lina stared at the ceiling beams above. Her body was warm, but her heart felt... fluttery. Not the nervous flutter she felt during a fight, but something different. Something softer.
A gentle breeze passed through the cracked window, brushing against her cheek like a mother's touch.
She slipped out of bed quietly and tiptoed to the window. The village outside was waking up. Farmers led sleepy goats past wooden fences. Children chased each other barefoot over the dew-slick grass. The world was slow, calm... peaceful.
"Lina..." a sleepy voice mumbled.
She turned to see Cilia half-sitting up, rubbing her eyes. Her hair was wild, sticking out in all directions. Her voice was groggy and adorably unintelligible.
"Did you sleep well?" Lina asked.
"Mmm-hm," Cilia nodded, then collapsed back into her pillow with a satisfied sigh. "Best sleep I've had in years..."
The two girls slowly prepared for the day. Cilia handed Lina a spare dress — soft blue linen with tiny stitched flowers around the hem. It smelled of lavender and cedar wood. Lina looked at herself in the mirror and almost didn't recognize the girl staring back. She looked... gentler. Like someone who belonged in a place like this.
Downstairs, the aroma of warm honey bread and boiled milk drifted from the kitchen. Cilia's mother greeted them with sleepy smiles and ruffled hair. She handed them breakfast with kind eyes and told them to eat outside where the air was fresh.
So they sat on the steps of the porch, legs swinging, biting into warm bread while watching the village stir awake.
Cilia kicked her heels a little. "Hey... wanna explore the stream today? It's pretty when the sun hits it."
Lina turned to her. "Sure. Lead the way."
They wandered slowly through the village, passing traders setting up wooden stalls and old women hanging washed sheets between trees. Cilia greeted everyone with shy waves, while Lina stayed close, like a shadow wrapped in blue linen.
The stream was only a few minutes away — a winding ribbon of crystal water snaking through tall grass. Small white flowers grew along its banks, their petals fluttering in the breeze. Smooth stones dotted the edges, worn round by time and laughter.
They sat near the stream, tossing pebbles, feet tucked under them.
"I used to come here when I was sad," Cilia said. Her voice was quiet, eyes reflecting the water. "I used to believe the stream could carry my sadness away... like little boats."
Lina tilted her head. "Did it work?"
"Not really," Cilia smiled. "But... it felt like someone was listening, you know?"
They talked for hours. About silly things. About food. About how birds have the freedom to fly anywhere. About how Cilia once fell into a bush trying to impress a cat.
Lina laughed.
Really laughed.
Not the quiet snort she usually gave when someone made a joke. But a full, messy, head-thrown-back kind of laugh that echoed over the stream.
Cilia watched her, smiling like sunlight.
Later that day, as the sun began its descent and the sky turned gold, they returned to the village square.
Lina spotted the MC by the training field — his sleeves rolled up, palms raised, eyes focused. A stone hovered gently in the air, swaying slightly.
He was practicing again.
She walked over quietly, Cilia trailing behind.
The MC didn't notice her until the rock fell, landing with a soft thud.
"You're improving," Lina said.
He turned, smiling a little. "Still trying to figure it out."
"What did you learn?"
He brushed dust from his fingers. "That magic... isn't just about force or control. It's about how far you're willing to imagine."
Lina nodded slowly, the sunlight framing her in gold.
"Hey," he added, eyes narrowing mischievously. "You two look like you've been having too much fun without me."
Cilia grinned. "We might've. A little."
Lina rolled her eyes but smiled.
As the sky darkened and stars began to prick the heavens one by one, the three of them sat under the lone tree on the hill above the village — a place where wind sang lullabies and the earth felt still.
They didn't speak much.
But there was no need to.
The silence was full of comfort. And in that moment, the world felt a little smaller. A little kinder. A little more theirs.