Chapter 95: Gifting

“You’re one of Elara’s classmates, aren’t you?” Elara’s mother asked after a moment with a polite tone, measuring up Albedo in a way mother’s do, searching for his manners, how he stood, his intent, and more.

It was like she was analyzing him for anything wrong, as if she was a hispanic mother eyeing the man her daughter brought home. It was a kind of pressure that only a parent could put on, and all of a sudden Albedo found himself making sure he looked good.

“Yeah, my name is Albedo and I study with her at the Academy,” Albedo responded with a slight nod.

The name seemed to stir faint recognition in her, but only faintly. She smiled warmly, brushing a stray strand of auburn hair behind her ear.

“Ah,” she said, and the corners of her eyes crinkled in fondness, “So you’re Albedo. Elara talks about you all the time.”

Albedo blinked, “She does?”

“Constantly,” her mother chuckled, shaking her head lightly, “She tells stories about you to little Bryan a-lot, about how strong you are. You’re quite the popular bedtime story now,” The mature woman said, her lips curved with a knowing smile.

“I worried at first that she was getting into trouble at that Academy, but… whenever she speaks of you, her eyes shine.”

Albedo smiled internally when he heard that, but before he could say something, her mother’s tone immediately shifted as she continued speaking, “But I’m afraid she hasn’t been quite herself lately.”

Albedo’s gaze sharpened immediately, “What do you mean?”

Her expression dimmed, “She’s been pretty ill, it came on about a week ago, just a slight fever. It peaked 2 days ago, while she’s a bit better now, it doesn’t seem to be going away soon. She’s resting upstairs,”

The mother said, her eyes flicked toward the ceiling, then back to him, “She hasn’t wanted to tell anyone. She insisted it would only be a burden.”

Albedo was a bit surprised. Sickness’ had mostly gone away in those who were awakened. Not to say they absolutely never happened, there was a risk for those in Bronze & Silver, but they had mostly disappeared, and once someone reached Gold rank, they’d never get sick again.

“I’d like to see her,” he said after a beat and the woman gave him a small, approving nod.

“Up the stairs. First door to the right. She’ll be surprised, but…” A gentle smile touched her lips, “I think she’ll be glad.”

Albedo quickly headed upstairs, each step creaking faintly under his boots, the wood polished by years of use alongside the scent of dried herbs and crushed petals.

At the door, he hesitated only a moment before knocking softly.

“…Come in,” came a weak but familiar voice from within.

Albedo opened the door and stepped inside and looked around.

The room was simple, neat, with modest furnishings. A small desk cluttered with papers and ink, a shelf stacked with well-worn books, and in the corner, a window through which sunlight filtered gently, painting the room in a soft glow.

On the bed, propped against a stack of pillows, lay Elara.

Her dark auburn hair spilled across the sheets in loose waves, framing a face paler than usual. The strength he was so accustomed to seeing in her forest-green eyes was muted, replaced by weariness, though it flickered with surprise when she saw him.

“Albedo?” she whispered, voice hoarse, “What… are you doing here?”

He stepped closer, his gaze sweeping over her condition. Her skin was flushed faintly and her breath was. uneven. Her mana channeling was quite normal which made him a bit calmer.

Mana fluctuations were a clear sign a sickness had gone deadly and since none of that happened to Elara, it pointed to just a common sickness relative for an awakened.

“Your mother told me,” he said evenly, pulling a chair from the desk and setting it beside her bed, “About your illness.”

Elara groaned faintly, leaning back into the pillows. “I told her not to… She wasn’t supposed to…” Her voice trailed off, frustration warping into embarrassment. She turned her face away from him, “I didn’t want to bother you with this. You already have so much to deal with.”

Albedo’s eyes narrowed slightly, “You think you’re a burden?”

Her lips pressed into a thin line.

He leaned forward, his voice quiet but firm, “You’re not. Do you understand? If you’re unwell, you tell me. That’s what friends are for.”

She blinked, caught off guard by the certainty in his tone. Slowly, she turned her head to look at him again, her green eyes wide and a little vulnerable.

For a moment, silence lingered between them, broken only by the faint rustle of leaves outside the window. Then, softly, Elara let out a weak laugh.

“You always sound so… absolute,” she murmured, “Like there’s no room for doubt in the things you say.”

Albedo’s expression softened faintly, “That’s because there isn’t. At least not about this.”

Her lips curved into the faintest smile, though fatigue quickly pulled it away. She sighed, closing her eyes. “I’ll get better soon. I just… need some time.”

Albedo sat in silence for a moment, studying her. Then he spoke, his voice low, carrying a weight she couldn’t see yet.

“You will, and it might come soon, since I have a gift for you,” Albedo said.

Her eyes fluttered open again, curiosity flickering despite her exhaustion, “A Gift…?”

Albedo reached into his spatial space, his hand brushing the cool surface of the tome before pulling it free.

The faint green shimmer that clung to its surface immediately brightened the room, washing over the walls in a calming radiance. It smelled faintly of fresh rain and blooming flowers, a strange contrast to the stale heaviness of illness.

He placed the book gently on her lap.

“I told you before the Soul Engraving that I’d make sure you had something good,” Albedo said evenly, though his voice softened as he looked at her pale face, “This is it. A technique worthy of you.”

Elara’s weary eyes widened at the sight of the tome. The emerald glow reflected in her gaze as though it had been written for her alone.

She hesitated, almost afraid to touch it, before brushing trembling fingers across the cover. The moment she did, the silver script blossomed across the surface, letters flowering like vines under sunlight:

Nature Blossom – Star Rank Technique

Harness the vitality of the world. Shape nature, heal wounds, shield companions, scout the unseen, sense the truth. A versatile art for one who stands as the root and support of many.

Her lips parted, her breath catching faintly. She read the words once, twice—then clutched the tome tighter against her chest as if afraid it might vanish.

“Albedo…” Her voice cracked, hoarse and unsteady, but there was no mistaking the tremor in it. She swallowed, blinking rapidly as her vision blurred, “This… this is… you don’t understand how much, ”

Tears welled at the corners of her eyes before spilling down her cheeks. Almost without thinking, Elara pushed herself upright, leaning forward and wrapping her arms around him.

It was clumsy, fueled more by raw emotion than strength, but the hug pressed her face against his chest all the same. She was warm, fever warm, but there was no mistaking the sincerity of the gesture.

Albedo blinked, surprised by the sudden contact, but his hands slowly moved to rest on her shoulders. He didn’t hold her too tightly; she was fragile in this state. Still, the faintest smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

A heartbeat later, Elara seemed to realize what she had done. She froze, her breath hitching, then pulled back abruptly. Her cheeks burned crimson even through her paleness.

“I, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean, ” She fumbled for words, staring at the floor as though it might swallow her whole.

Albedo shook his head. “You don’t need to apologize.”

Her throat bobbed, and she quickly wiped at her eyes, still clutching the book to her chest as if it were a lifeline.

“You should practice it as soon as possible,” Albedo said, his tone returning to calm seriousness. “Not just for the Soul Engraving, but for yourself. This technique suits you better than anything else I’ve seen.”

Elara nodded quickly, still unable to meet his gaze, her voice small but resolute. “I will. Thank you, Albedo. Really… thank you.”

He stood then, straightening. The light from the tome bathed them both in a soft green glow.

For a moment, he looked down at her, the auburn-haired girl who had fought beside him, stood firm despite her limits, and now sat before him with tears still drying on her cheeks.

Without a word, he leaned down. His hand brushed gently against her hair, and then his lips pressed lightly against her forehead.

It was brief. A whisper of warmth. But to Elara, it might as well have been thunder.

Her entire face went scarlet, her breath caught in her throat, and she stared at him as though the world had tilted off its axis.

Albedo stepped back smoothly, as though nothing unusual had happened. “Rest. I’ll see you when you’re better.”

Elara finally found her voice, if it could be called that. “Y-you! Out!” she stammered, flustered beyond reason, fumbling with her blankets as if she could bury herself beneath them, “Get out, now!”

Albedo allowed himself the faintest smirk as he turned and walked toward the door.

Behind him, Elara pressed the glowing tome to her chest, her heart racing wildly, her face burning hotter than her fever.

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