Chapter 185 The Calm Before Strom (2)
With the sky gradually transforming into a soft orange hue, the sun shyly peeked through the delicate branches of the vibrant red Cerza pine trees, casting a warm glow over Rinoa and Fitran as they sat side by side at the edge of the tranquil lake. This sacred place, under the watchful protection of Kokein, the steadfast envoy of the Lake Goddess, was steeped in mysteries. The lake's calm surface perfectly mirrored the gentle twilight light, devoid of shadows—a signature feature of this ancient body of water, which resonated with the wonders and purity of nature, a realm where the guardians of the seasons cherished their origins. The existence of this shadowless lake had become a beacon of hope and eternal love, suggesting that everything unveiled in its depths was the product of choice and effort, rather than mere chance.
Rinoa playfully swung her legs above the water's surface, sending small, shimmering splashes into the air that danced like fairy lights, whispering of life and enchantment. "Fitran," she murmured softly, her voice almost swallowed by the profound silence surrounding the lake, "do you believe in fate?"
Fitran tilted his head, feeling the ethereal influence of magic enveloping them like a soft mist. "If fate is what ensues when I cannot choose you... then I would gladly be its traitor, regardless of the illusions that magic may weave," he replied firmly. In that moment, he grasped that true decisions were always within his reach, making him the one to lay the first stone in their winding romantic journey.
Rinoa gazed at him intently, a small smile appearing on her face, her eyes shimmering with a mix of curiosity and warmth. "Your answer sounds like a bittersweet poem. Did you learn that from Charles before you defeated him?"
"No, I made it up myself... when I was on the brink of losing you," he responded, his voice deepening with sincerity, stripped of any trace of irony. He sought to fortify their connection, like a delicate thread woven through the intricate tapestry of their burgeoning romance, as a soft light illuminated the shadows hovering around them.
A moment of silence enveloped them, soothing the atmosphere. It wasn't an awkward stillness; instead, it felt like a warm pause, akin to the gentle hush between two melodic chimes of a bell, marking a profound moment in their journey intertwined by magic and love, as if time itself slowed to cherish their closeness.
"You know," Rinoa leaned back against his shoulder, enveloped by the protective presence of Kokein, which wrapped around them like a comforting blanket of tranquility, "I used to fear that my heart was only tethered by magic... by the core of Malakothies, or whatever it was, like threads woven uncontrollably, spiraling in chaotic patterns."
Fitran didn't answer immediately. Instead, he gently took Rinoa's hand, his grip firm yet tender, as if he were shattering the lingering doubts that threatened to overshadow their bond. He wanted to assure her that they still had the power to choose their own path, even when surrounded by the overwhelming and mysterious influence of magic.
"But now..." Rinoa continued, her smile blooming gradually like the first rays of dawn breaking through the horizon; "even if all magic fades away, I still want to be with you. Even if you... become a retired dango vendor, trapped in the rhythm of daily routine."
Fitran chuckled, his warm laughter echoing like a babbling brook, filling the air with happiness. "If you were to transform into a phoenix, ascending from the ashes just to engage in our morning debates, I would still rise early to prepare your breakfast with unwavering love and all my heart."
"Mmm... promise?" Rinoa inquired, her pinky finger raised, her eyes sparkling with a blend of hope and certainty like stars illuminating the night sky.