Through Light and Shadow

Chapter 7

And yet...

The warmth in my chest pulsed faintly.

As if to say: But it is.

~

I stood at the threshold of the dining room, hesitant. The scent of something savory wafted through the air—warm stew, maybe?—its aroma gently coaxing my empty stomach to protest. I hadn't realized how hungry I was until now.

Aldric was still outside, tending the garden with the same patient rhythm I'd seen earlier. I took a deep breath and stepped inside, my footsteps soft against the wooden floor. The table was simple—worn but sturdy—with two bowls of steaming stew already placed, along with slices of bread that looked freshly baked.

I slid into a chair, nerves still a tangled mess, but hunger overruled everything else. As if on cue, Aldric entered the cottage. His hands were slightly dirt-smudged, sleeves rolled up. He glanced at me, eyebrows raising ever so slightly in acknowledgment before wiping his hands on a towel.

"Glad you decided to come out," he said, voice calm. No pressure. No overwhelming revelations this time. Just... normal.

He sat across from me, picking up his spoon. I followed suit, tasting the stew. It was surprisingly good—hearty, with tender vegetables and a broth that warmed me from the inside out.

For a while, we just ate. Quiet, but not awkward. Comfortable, somehow.

Then, breaking the stillness, Aldric spoke. "How old are you, Aveline?"

I blinked at the question. That's it? No destiny talk? No magic lecture?

"Twenty-six," I replied cautiously. "You?"

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Old enough."

I rolled my eyes, a small huff escaping me despite myself. "That's not an answer."

"Fair enough," he chuckled. "Sixty-two."

I glanced at him. He looks younger than that, I thought but didn't say it aloud. Instead, I scooped another spoonful of stew.

"What's your favorite color?" he asked next, tone light.

I paused mid-bite. Really? "...Blue," I said eventually. "Yours?"

"Green." He gestured toward the window where the newly planted garden lay. "Nature's calming."

I found myself nodding.

The questions continued—simple, everyday things. Favorite food. Music preferences. Books. I knew what he was doing—trying to ground me, distract me from the chaos that had upended my life. And though it didn't completely work, I appreciated the effort. This normalcy... it helps.

I learned that he liked early mornings, hated coffee (which was borderline criminal in my opinion), and preferred quiet over noise. He learned I had a sweet tooth, loved rainy days, and once tried (and failed) to learn guitar.

Somewhere in the middle of it all, the weight on my chest lightened just a bit.

Later that afternoon...

Aldric excused himself after lunch, leaving me alone with a stack of books on the side table. One, in particular, caught my eye—its leather cover embossed with silver constellations that seemed to shift as the light hit them.

I stared at it for a good ten minutes. Don't open it, I told myself. You don't need this. You don't want this. And yet... curiosity gnawed at me. With a sigh, I reached for it, settled into the armchair, and flipped it open.