One Last Night

The city had quieted.

The last embers of the harvest festival still glowed faintly across stone courtyards and rooftop ledges, drifting into the still air like tired fireflies. A few faded banners flapped lazily in the wind, their vibrant threads dulled by ash and dusk. Somewhere, a child laughed too loud, and someone else scolded them—but even that felt like it belonged in a dream now fading.

Silas sat on a narrow rooftop ledge, legs swinging loosely above the alleyway below. Beside him, Velira had brought a shallow metal plate filled with the last of the roasted tuber slices, and Cass had stretched out on his back, arms folded behind his head, staring at the black-stained stars overhead.

They didn't talk at first.

Not because there was nothing to say—but because they didn't need to say anything just yet.

The warmth in their silence was rare.

Eventually, it was Velira who broke it, tapping her fork against the edge of the plate. "You know," she said, chewing slowly, "I've spent years trying to avoid rooftops. Every time I climb one, something explodes. Usually because of you two."

Cass chuckled. "Technically, only one explosion was my fault."

Silas smiled faintly, his voice softer than usual. "Only one?"

"Well," Cass said, raising a brow, "maybe two. But the first one was on purpose."

They all laughed. Even Silas, who had started the evening feeling strangely distant, found himself leaning into the sound of their voices.

"I missed this," he said quietly.

Cass turned his head. "Yeah. Me too."

A pause passed. Velira handed him another slice of roast, nudging his side when he didn't immediately take it. "You really did vanish on us, you know."

"I had to," Cass said, brushing dust from his sleeve. "They said I was wasting time… spending too much of it away from the Cathedral. Said I needed to 'dedicate my soul to the Light.'"

He didn't say it like he believed it. Just like he was repeating something that had been said too many times.

"You could've told us," Silas said.

"I didn't want to. I thought I'd come back strong. With something to show for it. Instead… I just got lonelier."

The wind whispered between the rooftop stones. None of them moved for a while.

Then Velira leaned back on her elbows. "Well, you're here now. And your Light still works, so I guess they didn't beat it out of you."

Cass grinned, but there was something tired in it.

Silas glanced toward him. He wanted to ask more. About what Light magic really felt like. About the pressure. About whether Cass had ever looked at the glowing sigils and thought they looked… wrong.

But he stopped himself.

Some truths weren't ready yet. And he didn't want to ruin this night.

Instead, he reached into the cloth pouch beside him and pulled out three small, half-rotten apples—the ones he had bartered for earlier. Bruised and ugly, but real.

He tossed one to each of them.

Velira caught hers without looking. Cass fumbled his and nearly fell off the roof.

"What is this?" Velira asked, squinting at the wrinkled fruit.

"A gift," Silas said, holding his up like a toast. "To bad decisions."

Cass raised his. "To survival."

Velira sighed and raised hers too. "To whatever this city hasn't managed to burn yet."

They clinked them together with dull thuds, then bit into them at the same time.

They were terrible. Dry. Bitter. Sour.

Cass spat his out immediately. "You paid for this?"

"It reminded me of this world," Silas said, biting again. "Rotten and stubborn."

Velira rolled her eyes but didn't stop chewing. "You're so dramatic sometimes."

"I'm allowed," he muttered. "It's the middle of… whatever time this is."

They stayed on that rooftop until the chill crept into their bones. Talking about nothing. Watching a sky that never changed. Letting themselves forget that they were part of something darker—if only for a few hours.

When Cass finally fell asleep on the tiles, Velira stood and stretched. "We should get him inside before his Light Path turns into Frostbite Path."

Silas smirked and stood too. "Come on. I'll grab his feet."

As they lifted him, Cass mumbled something incoherent and drooled on Silas's sleeve.

Velira laughed, a rare, free sound that danced into the wind.

And Silas… laughed too.

For the first time in a long time, the world didn't feel like it was pressing down on him. For once, it felt like they might be allowed to live.

Even if only for one last night.