Chapter 83: The temple Shrouded in Fog
Lucy stirred awake as golden and violet rays bled across the horizon, seeping into the otherwise grey and lifeless Hollow. The colors were strange here—like spilled ink swirling in cold water—soft but unnatural, as if the Hollow itself resented the sun’s intrusion.
Still, it was morning.
And he had slept well. Deservedly so. After nearly drowning, parting the Grey Sea, and striking down a monstrous, ancient beast, a few hours of uninterrupted sleep felt like a miracle.
His body protested the moment he moved, aches flaring through every joint. He stood slowly on the narrow cliffside ledge, breath misting faintly in the chill. The wind here carried the sea salt and the wet stone’s sharp scent. It bit at his skin, but compared to the sea’s frigid depths, it felt almost pleasant.
He brushed black hair out of his face, long now, tangled, wet with dew. He hadn’t trimmed it since arriving in Seraph’s Hollow, and it hung down in damp strands, tickling his neck and forehead.
As he blinked the sleep from his eyes, he saw that the others were already awake.
Eri sat quietly against the jagged cliff wall, legs tucked under her, gaze focused somewhere far away. Gindu was beside her, cross-legged, arms folded across his chest, his eyelids heavy but not quite closed. He radiated a calm tension, like a spring coiled tight.
Fenric and Llarm sat near the cliff’s edge, legs swinging over the roiling sea below. The wind teased Llarm’s blonde hair into a soft flutter, while Fenric’s silver mane hung still, dampened by mist. Carlos lay curled beside Fenric, tail flicking lazily, ears up and alert despite his sleepy posture.
And then there was Bruma.
She stood apart from the others, arms folded, her cloak caught slightly in the breeze. Her violet hair shimmered faintly in the strange morning light, and her golden eyes were shadowed with thought. Something still weighed on her—Lucy could feel it—but now wasn’t the time to ask.
Not when the air was thick with tension. No one spoke, no one needed to. The silence said everything.