As Phylax and Eucliea lingered near the bench, locked in a frosting-flavored moment of reconciliation, the rest of the group stood in a circle under the park lights, still buzzing faintly with the afterglow of the event.
Alethea stepped forward, hands confidently on her hips. "I'm Alethea. Nice to meet you."
Ellyse turned, smiled, and extended her hand with the fluid grace of someone who had done a thousand press greetings. "Nice to meet you too. I'm Ellyse Stokes."
There was a beat.
Then Ellyse tilted her head slightly. "Full name?"
Alethea blinked, caught off guard. "Alethea Veris."
Sathvic chimed in right after, holding out a hand. "Sathvic Navir."
They shook hands with the practiced rhythm of diplomats who were slightly too underdressed.
Then came Zorion, who gave an awkward little wave. "Zorion Caelum."
Raga raised a glowstick like it was a mic. "Raga Fulmar."
As the names passed around, Zorion turned slightly toward Ellyse with a spark of mischief in his eyes.
"So… you're a tennis player, right?"
Ellyse gave a single amused nod, unsure where this was going.
"I used to play tennis too."
There was a pause.
Zorion smiled wider. "Wanna have a match? For one of your titles?"
There was another pause.
Alethea and Sathvic turned to him like he'd just challenged a lion to a staring contest.
"You want to what?" Alethea mouthed, her eyes wide.
Meanwhile, Raga—faithful hype man and supporter of dreams regardless of logic—jumped with excitement. "You can win that, Zorion! It's not like voting where you lose every time!"
Poor Raga hadn't quite grasped the meaning of a "world-class athlete" yet.
Neither had Zorion, really.
He straightened his back proudly. "They used to call me the Lightning Smasher in my childhood… all because of my reflexes."
The group fell silent.
Then Ellyse let out a laugh—part surprised, part entertained, and oddly sincere. "Sire… you've got a match. Next time we meet."
It was the kind of reply celebrities gave out of routine—but this time, there was something different. A hint of curiosity. Maybe even… fun.
"So," she said with playful curiosity, "how did you all wind up with Eucliea of all people?"
The answer didn't come from them—but from behind them.
Eucliea re-entered the group with Phylax beside her, the cake box still carefully guarded in his hands like it was sacred.
"Well," she said, pointing toward Zorion, "this guy sits beside Eirene during the Equinox matches."
She gave a warm, slightly teasing smile. "So I made them my friends."
Ellyse raised a sharp eyebrow, her lips curling. "Eirene, you say? Well… that's amusing."
Zorion wasn't sure if he should feel honored, concerned, or in trouble.
Before the mood could twist again, Ellyse clapped her hands lightly. "Anyway, I've got to head out. You people enjoy the rest of your night."
She turned to Eucliea. "And about that 1,000 gold coin prize—I trust you to collect it and send it to Eirene's charity for the underprivileged."
Zorion flinched so hard it was visible.
One thousand gold coins… all to charity? I mean, I'm technically poor too, he thought with tragic math running in the background.
As Eucliea turned to go, Phylax gently placed a hand on her arm. "I'll collect it. You take Raga."
She hesitated just a second before nodding, a silent thank-you in her gaze.
Then, as the group turned to leave, Eucliea glanced up at the darkening sky. A light breeze tugged at her hair. She checked the time on her volva device and gently said, "It's about time to take Raga to the hospital."
Alethea made a dramatic face. "Aww… Raga, you gonna miss us weirdos?"
Raga grinned, glowstick still in hand. "I sure will. I never had this much fun in my life."
Eucliea bent down slightly, brushing some hair from his forehead. "You have lots and lots more fun in your fate." She gave him a soft pat on the head.
Sathvic and Zorion chuckled quietly behind her—something about seeing Eucliea like this softened the air around them.
Moments later, Phylax returned, prize envelope in hand, and without a word, slipped into pace beside Eucliea.
Together, they all walked down the glowing path—towards the hospital, towards their night, and toward whatever chapter would turn next.
And somewhere in Zorion's head, a whisper echoed again:
Still she could've used those coins.
Next Chapter Preview:
Dropping Raga off at the hospital was supposed to be simple—just a heartfelt goodbye before life moved on.
But fate had other plans.
For Eucliea, Alethea, and even the usually unbothered Zorion, what began as a routine act of kindness turns into a turning point—one that none of them see coming. Zaherra's hospital walls, quiet and clean, are about to echo with decisions and revelations.