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“Lys?”
Lysithea’s head swam as she faded back into consciousness. She blinked her eyes open. Golden rays of sunset poured into the infirmary, nesting onto crisp white beds. The air smelled of antiseptic. Cyril stood above her, his hand on her shoulder. A beaming smile filled his face. His curly hair shone in the light. “Lys, are you awake?”
“I am,” Lysithea said. “What time is it?”
“It’s just past five bells,” said Cyril. “You’ve been asleep for five hours. The procedure took two.”
Lysithea exhaled. Whatever Linhardt and Hanneman gave her had done a bit too good of a job— though she supposed that was better than not good enough. “Only two?”
“Yeah, though Linhardt almost fainted a few times.” Cyril moved his hand down to her back. “Here, let me help you up.”
Lysithea lifted her back. A sharp pain ran through her chest. She grit her teeth.
Cyril adjusted Lysithea’s pillow so she rest against it. “Careful. It’s going to take a while for that scar to heal.” He turned to the door. “Manuela! Lysithea’s awake!”
Manuela’s voice rang out from the hallway. “She is? Hold on just one second!”
Manuela came in with a tray holding a glass of water and a bowl of soup. She placed it down on Lysithea’s lap. A chalky tablet sat next to the bowl of soup. “Hanneman and Linhardt said the sedative might have made you nauseous. I know we promised you sweets after this, but there’s no point in eating sweets if you’re gonna throw them up.”
She had a point, Lysithea thought. She took the bowl of soup and raised it to her lips, taking a sip of the salty soup. Chicken and leek, it seemed. “Where are they anyways?”
“Well, Linhardt’s taking a nap,” said Cyril, “And Hanneman is also resting. He said it was a pretty stressful experience.”
“When they come back, I’d like to thank them,” Lysithea said. “Though I’m not really sure how.”
“You gave them both an experience they’ll never forget,” said Manuela. “Especially Linhardt.”
Lysithea laughed. Her chest ached with each breath, yet she laughed.
“Don’t forget to take the tablet if you feel nauseous. If you two need anything, I’ll be in the hall,” Manuela said. She winked at the two, then left.
“I was so worried, Lys,” said Cyril. He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “But it worked. It worked, and you’re here, and you’re okay, and everything is alright.”
Lysithea pressed her forehead against Cyril’s. Time stood still. Tears ran down both of their cheeks.
“It’s over,” Lysithea said. “It’s finally over.”
The two stood, silent. Nothing needed to be said. Their hearts beat in perfect harmony.
Then, there was a knock at the door. Lysithea and Cyril snapped their heads up.
“Hey.” Claude leaned against the doorway. “Manuela told us all Lys is awake. How’s she doing?”
Lysithea scowled. Of course he had to come ruin the moment. “I’m right here, Claude. Don’t talk about me like I’m not here.”
“Are you feeling up to everyone visiting?” Claude asked. “We’ve all been anxious to see you.”
“Um…” Lysithea exchanged a glance with Cyril. “I’m not really in a state to see anyone at the moment. Later, okay?”
“Alright then,” Claude said. “You’ve got all the time in the world.” He winked in his usual silly way, then walked out of sight.
“He’s right,” Cyril said. “Maybe you don’t have all the time in the world, but you’ve got much more than you did. What do you want to do with it?”
Lysithea blinked. There were plenty of things she wanted to do, but never thought she’d have the time for. Enjoying life had never been a priority. She’d been so anxious about her future that she never slowed down and gave herself time to rest. Perhaps that was part of why her condition had grown so much worse.
She pondered over her options. She’d already seen most of Fodlan, albeit during the war— perhaps she could travel around and truly appreciate its culture. Claude talked lots about Almyra, and Cyril wanted to travel there, so maybe they could go there too. Or maybe even Morfis, where she could learn more about magic. There were also Dagda, Sreng, and Brigid… though perhaps traveling was a bit too much at the moment.
Her options closer to home were less grand, but still exciting. Lysithea had met a cat on the monastery grounds she’d grown close to. Marianne claimed the cat felt the same. Hilda joked that it was meant to be: Lysithea was a witch, and the cat her familiar. Likewise, Cyril had befriended one of the many dogs roaming around. Neither of them were sure if the two animals would get along… and that wasn’t even taking Cyril’s wyvern into account.
So many new paths had opened for her. Frankly, it was a bit overwhelming— but all of them pointed to the same thing.
It didn’t take Lysithea long to come to her conclusion. “For now, I think I just want to spend it with you.”