Because it was blessed by the will of the throne’s power, the sky over this garden is always the dark starry sky from Silvia’s mories, whether day or night.
This is the manifestation of Silvia’s Mind Landscape, akin to the frozen snowfields surrounding the City of Wind and Snow at the Abyssal Depths in the First Era.
In the language of mysticism, this is Silvia’s "Inherent Barrier," a domain that belongs solely to her, which she can freely change according to her will.
Yet, at this mont.
Returning to this most familiar place, where she knows the position of every plant, tree, and potted plant by heart.
Silvia’s heart unexpectedly welled up with a rare sense of timidity, as if close to ho but feeling daunted.
Her steps halted at the entrance of the courtyard; she could no longer advance even a fraction.
"Tower Master?"
A woman’s whisper reached her ears.
In those calm words, there was a hint of helplessness.
"Haven’t you been constantly thinking about him over the past six months?"
"You ntion him while eating, during naps, and even during high-level etings within the White Tower, you often start staring blankly out the window, I know what you’re thinking without you having to say it."
"Why now that he’s finally back, are you hesitating?"
"Go see him, Tower Master, in your current state, you’ll disillusion quite a few new mbers of the White Tower who grew up listening to your legends."
Isveytan?
It seems being around Shiayar and the others for so long.
Even my Deputy Tower Master, the one who once seed perpetually expressionless, the Silent Singer, is now unconsciously using Shiayar’s phraseology.
Silvia gently reached out her hand.
Then, she pushed aside the curtain at the courtyard entrance and walked inside.
The white curtains swayed slowly open with the gentle breeze blowing across the adow.
The dark-haired youth sat silently on those pale stone steps, quietly gazing at the courtyard before him.
He wore a thin, white garnt, akin to a hospital gown.
Fluorescent light reflected in his eyes, resembling a dim Sea of Stars.
"Shiayar... Brother."
This extrely soft call was detected by the person in front.
He slightly turned his body, those freshly awakened dark eyes looked at Silvia, still bearing a trace of bewildernt and confusion.
Looking at that familiar face—
And those black eyes gazing at her, polite yet revealing so confusion.
Silvia’s heart couldn’t help but slightly sink.
Through Enola’s recounting, she knew very well everything Shiayar faced in the First Era.
It was inviting a wolf into the house, ushering an ancient will of unknown countless eras into his spiritual world, then gambling away five hundred years to erode it until one side’s spirit and self were truly obliterated.
Even at the end of those hundreds of years—Brother Shiayar achieved final victory.
However, opposing such an existence, Shiayar couldn’t possibly not pay a price...
His soul suffered abrasion, losing part of its mory... forgetting his past with her.
Compared to the worst-case scenario of Shiayar being in permanent slumber, never to awaken... for him to awaken unscathed, only at the cost of losing so mory fragnts, this is undoubtedly the best outco.
Clearly, she should be happy.
With this in her heart, Silvia carefully restrained her inner disappointnt, not letting it show on her face.
Instead, she put on a slightly dry but polite smile.
"Well..."
"Perhaps saying this now might surprise you, but actually, this isn’t our first eting."
"My na is Silvia, Silvia Brunestadt..."
Silvia suppressed her inner emotions, forcing herself to speak, yet before she could finish.
She heard Enola’s familiar voice.
"At a ti like this, you’re still joking about amnesia."
"Still as wicked as always."
Pale golden hair fluttered.
The next mont, the golden-haired figure leaped into the arms of the youth like a swallow returning to its nest.
And the dark-haired youth’s eyes, originally filled with bewildernt and confusion, instantly crumbled with Enola’s appearance.
Shiayar looked at the golden-haired girl who buried her head in his chest, refusing to raise her head, and a hint of helplessness flashed in his eyes.
"Truly, I can’t hide anything from you, Ennie."
Shiayar spoke softly.
"Not just Ennie and Silvia Babe, but I was looking forward to this reunion even more than you."
"Though only six months passed in reality, I truly struggled for five hundred years."
This ti.
Be it the voice or the gaze in those dark eyes.
Everything felt incredibly familiar to Silvia, no longer as foreign as before.
"Five hundred years, a whole five hundred years."
"Though the perceived ti in the spiritual world passes a bit faster, it’s still nearly a hundred years, at the very least."
"No comfort, no whispers of snowflakes, no lap-pillows..."
"The only interaction I had was with an existence that didn’t know how ancient it was, drooling and telling your body is excellent, perfect, just like that old geezer Hannibal."
"Ennie, Silvia Babe... do you know how I got through these five hundred years?"
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