Erza's voice shifted, becoming slower, deeper, like the telling of an ancient story passed down through generations. The morning light seemed to dim around her, as if the shadows themselves were leaning in to listen.
"I will tell you," she said, her violet eyes fixed on some distant point that only she could see. "But I will not repeat it. And I will not tolerate pity from a mere human."
Yuuta nodded silently. He did not speak. He did not move. He simply waited, his red eyes steady on her face.
Erza sighed, long and heavy, and began.
