Chapter 274: Apologies Among Friends

While all that was happening, I sneaked toward the edge of the camp.

There, I found our short, blind, ginger savior.

She was sitting cross-legged on a flat boulder, hands joined in her lap. Her eyes were closed, and her posture upright yet relaxed.

She was meditating.

I’d noticed she did that a lot.

Whenever she had a moment to spare, she would start meditating.

Personally, I couldn’t do it. Sitting still and doing nothing indefinitely was

not

my thing.

Blame my short attention span — five minutes of total silence and I’d start mentally arguing with myself about whether that random girl three years ago was flirting with me or just secretly hated my guts.

Still, watching Alexia now, I couldn’t help but feel... curious.

She was always so calm and composed, probably the wisest one among us all — at least when she wasn’t acting her age.

The firelight didn’t reach her here, but the crimson glow of the moon did. It outlined her against the dark forest, making her seem

almost

ethereal.

I approached quietly, unsure whether to disturb her or not.

The moment my foot brushed against a twig, though, her head tilted slightly.

I grimaced, then forced a tight smile. "Uh... hi?"

The smile that Alexia gave in response to my voice was much brighter than my own. "Oh, hi, Samael! What’s up?"

Now, I’ll say this — I’m not someone who feels guilt easily.

In all my years of life, I’ve rarely ever faced that feeling.

Like I said back in my nightmare, I’m the kind of person who owns my mistakes and choices... and walks forward with them.

But when I saw Alexia’s cheerful face looking in my rough direction... something in my chest wrenched.

I don’t know why.

She wasn’t even my

friend

, let alone someone I cared about much.

So what if I’d done something bad to her when we were younger?

People do bad things all the time. That’s life. You get hurt, you heal, you move on.

But the problem was...

she

never did.

Alexia still definitely remembered what happened. She hadn’t

forgotten

. At best, she’d

forgiven

.

And somehow, that made me feel even worse than I was already feeling.

"Nothing much," I finally said, shoving my hands into my pockets. It was a chilly night. "Just checking if our resident monk has achieved enlightenment yet."

She giggled. "Not yet. But the peace is nice. You should try it sometime."

"What, meditating?" I scoffed like she’d offered something ridiculous. "No thanks. Last time I sat alone with my thoughts for more than ten seconds, I started reconsidering my entire existence. Did

not

like where

that

went."

"That’s kind of the point," she shook her head with a patient little smile that indicated I had said something silly. "To face it."

I stared at her for a moment.

This girl was truly impossible — blind, barely up to my shoulders, and somehow still making

me

feel like the childish one.

Then my gaze fell on the long, white wooden cane lying beside her.

And I froze. "I... I never saw you using a cane before."

Alexia frowned for a second, then her face went

’oh,’

as she picked up the cane, turning it idly in her hands as if she’d just remembered it was there.

"Right," she said. "That’s because I don’t use it at the Academy. Only in the dorms. I hate this thing."

Her tone wasn’t bitter — just matter-of-fact, just casual.

But it made me fall silent for a second — a second that felt like it somehow stretched far, far longer than it should have.

Then I took a deep breath, as if gathering every ounce of courage I could muster, before blurting out, "I– I remember our first meeting now."

Her hand froze mid-motion on the cane, and she raised an eyebrow.

The smile on her face turned into something softer. "...Oh, do you?"

"Yeah." I scratched the back of my neck. "I... I-I don’t—"

I was struggling to find words.

I mean, what do you even say in a situation like this?

There isn’t exactly a step-by-step instruction manual on how to apologize to a blind girl you most

definitely

traumatized as a kid.

Luckily for me, Alexia took the reins immediately.

She cut me off before I could finish whatever nonsense I was trying to mumble. "Samael. It’s fine."

I paused, staring at her blankly. "...Huh?"

Alexia continued in the same breath. "You weren’t wrong. What you said that night — as harsh as it was —

wasn’t

wrong."

Once again, there was no bitterness in her words. Her voice was as gentle as it could’ve been, yet I could still feel the quiet sting of melancholy behind it.

"Do you remember what I told you and Mikey back in Ishtara?" she asked. "I told you my lineage is a legacy of perfection. Each child in our family is expected to surpass the last, either in strength or mind. No flaws are tolerated. No weakness is permitted. And then... I was born with—"

She gestured toward her sightless gray eyes. "—With a glaring flaw. With a crippling weakness. So my father tried to

fix

me. And when he couldn’t, he tried to

hide

me. It would’ve been so easy to just hate him. It really would’ve been... if he

didn’t

love me so much. But he did. He... loved me more than

anything

, Samael. Even though, in

his

eyes, I brought him nothing but shame... he loved me."

The edge in her voice dulled a little.

She sounded deliberate and careful, talking the way people do when some memories still hurt but they’ve learned to speak around the pain.

"But his love was

suffocating

," she gritted. "He saw me as something fragile, something to protect... like I was made of glass. His plan for me was a safe political marriage. It was made clear to me, from a very young age, that I had no choice. I had no say in my own life. And I... was going to accept it. I was going to keep my head low and do as I was told for the good of the family. I was going to accept my fate, because I was born weak. Because I was born without a choice."

She looked up. The moonlight caught her pale eyes, making them shimmer like two shards of glass.

"Then I met you. And although that meeting was... unpleasant, to say the least, your words stuck with me," she gave a small shrug. "You told me that what happened to me wasn’t because I was blind, but because I was

weak

. That being born weak isn’t a sin... but staying weak is."

She paused, her fingers absently brushing along the wooden cane. "At first, I

hated

you for saying that. I hated you so much I used to dream of proving you wrong — of finding you someday and throwing those words right back in your face."

She tittered. "But after some time, I realized something. You weren’t wrong. You were cruel and heartless, definitely. But not

wrong

. Because weakness isn’t just physical — it’s surrendering before even

trying

. It’s hiding behind pity, behind excuses, behind what the world says you can’t do. Weakness is not making your own choice. And I was doing

exactly

that."

Her hands tightened around the cane. "That night changed something in me. I swore I’d never let anyone make me feel that helpless again. So I trained until I could fight without needing eyes. Until my fists could answer for me. Until I could get back up again and again after being pushed down. And I

did

. Blood, adrenaline, rebellion — it all tasted like freedom. Like everything I’d ever been missing."

She exhaled softly. "So yes, you did hurt me. You

humiliated

me. You made me cry so much that night I thought I’d never stop. But you also... gave me a reason to stand. A reason to become strong."

I stood there in silence. My throat felt tight. "So... you don’t hate me?"

Alexia grinned at me. "Now? No. When I met you during the Evaluation Exam, though, I did kind of want to beat you up a little. But that didn’t go quite as planned. After that, the more I observed you, the more I realized you’d changed. You were still

very

arrogant and

very

annoying to deal with... but you

had

changed. And I wasn’t the same little girl anymore either. So what’s the point of hating someone who doesn’t even exist anymore? Besides, you’ve saved my life, like,

twice

already. I think

I’d

be the asshole between us if I

still

hated you now."

Her lips curved up a little more.

And I found myself smiling back at her.

After a moment, I sighed. "Still, I’m sorry. I really am."

"Yeah," Alexia nodded quietly. "Yeah, I know. But as I told you already, it’s fine. Apologies are unnecessary among friends."

A hushed silence followed.

The wind rustled through the towering trees, carrying the scent of smoke and pine and the disturbingly loud chorus of chirping insects.

Somewhere in the camp, someone fell asleep and started snoring loud enough to wake the dead.

The blood-red moon kept bleeding crimson light endlessly across the shattered sky.

And I... felt the ache in my chest melt into a strange, fuzzy feeling.

I was sure she was just being polite.

I was sure she was being careless with that word.

But still—

still...

It was the first time someone had called me their friend with the intention of

actually

meaning it.

I inhaled shakily.

Alexia blinked, then furrowed her brows and whipped her head toward me. "S-Samael... are you crying?!"

"Wha— No?" I sniffed. "Shut up!"

Alexia’s grin turned into a devilish little smirk. "You

are

crying!"

"I am not crying!" I snapped, furiously rubbing my eyes — which, by the way, were

not

tearing up. "It’s just... sweat. I’m just sweating from my eyeballs!"

"Oh? Sweating from your eyeballs, are you?" she leaned forward with the most punchable, innocent expression imaginable. "Does it only happen when someone says something nice to you?"

"Apparently so," I coughed and looked away. "Usually people are too dumbstruck by my divine looks to say anything in my presence. Anyway, don’t tell a soul about this."

Alexia broke into a fit of laughter. "Aww! Don’t worry, Samael. I won’t tell anyone that the great and fearsome young Theosbane has a heart."

"Good," I said stiffly. "Because if you do, know that I’ll resort to committing emotional violence on you in return."

Her smirk widened, even more teasing. "Oh, will you now? Pray tell how. Maybe by hugging me?"

I flinched. "Don’t test me, woman."

That made her laugh again.

I don’t remember exactly what we talked about after that. It was mostly stupid things. But we talked for a long time.

And I began to think — maybe this journey wouldn’t be as tiresome as I’d thought.