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Though Alcryst had always preferred peace and quiet—the chance to be along, to skulk and sulk in the shadows, to avoid wasting the air of other, far worthier warriors—he had found that, in the Order of Heroes, peace and quiet was a hard thing to come by. Even on days without duties, hardly a moment went by where something wasn’t happening… whether it was a festival, loud and overwhelming; a tournament, chaotic and frightening; or simply a group of Heroes talking and laughing in the dining hall, as a gentle and constant reminder of the happy life he was failing to live.
But still, in all the noise and chaos, he’d found little moments. And in those little moments, when he’d tried to keep to himself, far away from anyone else… he’d met someone doing, and preferring, the very same.
Somehow, a creature as lowly and undeserving as him had made a friend. And then, more inexplicably still, he had fallen in love.
A mistake that could only be described as a miracle.
And here he was now, with Noire, in the one place in the entire Order of Heroes he found could be even remotely peaceful: the gardens. Tucked away behind a copse of blooming rose bushes, the cool evening air was still and the early moonlight cast long, gentle shadows over the wooden bench where they always sat.
The silence was comfortable. A profound, precious thing. Despite seeking it out, he had never been able to stand the quiet, alone with nothing but his thoughts… but here it felt… nice. Safe.
As long as he had Noire with him, even the silence inside his own head was kind.
“A… Alcryst.”
Noire’s voice was soft. So soft he almost missed it. He turned to look down at her, head resting against his shoulder, and found her expression was uncharacteristically serious. Still anxious, of course, but… but with a purpose in her eyes.
“Y… yes, Noire?” he replied, trying to ignore the nervous tremor in his own throat. “Is… is something wrong?”
She shook her head. “No. Nothing’s wrong. I was just… thinking. U-um… wondering.”
“We, ah… we have a habit of that, don’t we? Wondering things we… shouldn’t… n-not to say that whatever you were thinking was—”
He winced at his own words. A foolish thing to say; but before he could bury it with something else, Noire was shaking her head again, a small smile on her lips.
“No. Not… not like that,” she said; and though the words were quiet, they were firm. Determined. “It’s… it’s just… we’re so alike. Aren’t we?”
Alcryst blinked. “I… yes, I… I suppose so? We’re archers, we like the quiet, we don’t like being around other Heroes who… who deserve to be there more than we do—”
“R-right,” Noire cut in. A rare occurrence. “I used to think… that there was no-one else like me. That I was… unique, in my… in my misery. And—u-um, well, I’m not trying to say that you’re miserable, I just mean—”
“I’m definitely miserable,” Alcryst offered, finding a smile of his own despite the words. “Not with you, though. Never with you.”
“Ahaha… Right. I… I’m not miserable with you, either. You make me feel… safe.”
There was a long silence, then. Noire gulped, as if searching for whatever point she wanted to make. And in those brief moments, Alcryst’s mind raced with all the things he was certain he’d done wrong, all the things he’d said to ruin this precious, perfect moment—
“Us being like this, and finding each other… growing close, as we have… sometimes, it all feels too perfect. Like a cruel spell cast by my mother that could break any minute. Or like… like I’ve borrowed something I can’t afford to keep, and one day soon, I’ll have to give you up and… go home…”
Noire shifted against him, lifting her head up to look at him properly.
“Alcryst. I… I can’t remember the last time I felt safe. Like this. With anyone. And… and I don’t… I don’t want it to end. I don’t want to have met someone so like me, someone who understands, only for… for…”
His arm, already around her, instinctively tightened, squeezing her gently.
“I… I don’t want that either,” he breathed, trying to ignore the way he could hear the tremor in his own voice. “It would… it would be just what I deserved, to have someone so wonderful, so kind, so… perfect… and then… and then lose her. But it would also be… well, it would be… be awful.”
Some source of comfort he was—a prince of Brodia, fumbling over the simplest of reassurances.
“B-but,” he continued, shaking his head, “we… we don’t have to think about that. We don’t. We have tonight together, at the very least… and tomorrow, and the day after, and—”
“I… I want more than that,” Noire whispered. “Is it really too much to wish for forever…?”
Despite everything, she still had the slightest of smiles. A soft, joking expression, however sincere the question.
Alcryst couldn’t help it. He let out a short, breathy laugh, then leaned down to press a kiss into her hair.
“I suppose… we archers always have to set our sights on distant, impossible things,” he said. “And even if we can’t hit them… we can at least try.”
Noire’s smile widened.
“W-well, then…” she murmured. “I suppose, if this should have been impossible… the two of us, meeting across worlds, falling in love… then… then maybe a future together isn’t so far-fetched after all.”
And for the first time in a long time, Alcryst allowed himself to hope.