Chapter 100
The gesture was neither firm nor gentle, but rather a kind of voiceless refusal woven from Aldraya's own nature.
Within that small movement lay a message clearer than words, as if she wished to say that the question about freedom was not something she deemed worth answering.
Not because she was incapable, but because she saw no urgency in revealing it before Theo.
The room around them seemed to stop following the rhythm of time's steps.
The drifting sheets of article slowed their pace, creating a narrow space where Aldraya and Theo stood like two unmoving points in the midst of a world still in motion.
Theo understood the gesture as a boundary drawn by Aldraya, a boundary that appeared only when something touched the innermost core of a meaning she guarded.
Yet for Theo, Aldraya's refusal was merely the surface of something far deeper, something that only made him more intrigued to unearth the answer she refused to speak.
'Aldraya, you must know your attitude is too guarded.
Too neat and calculated.
I can even see the tiny falsehood you intentionally slip behind your calm expression.
And that is precisely why I understand that "freedom" will change you drastically—not only your outward appearance, but also the way you interpret faith, piety, and betrayal.'
"Freedom never comes from a single source.
It always appears in many forms, and it will continue to endure as long as life keeps questioning its meaning.
So if you don't wish to answer, I won't press you."
'I am not angry, Aldraya.
Not in the slightest.
I only hope you can glimpse that freedom is not merely about faith, piety, or betrayal.
There is another side of you—something more authentic—that once held that freedom before you were four years old.
Before everything stole away joy, delight, happiness, and every emotion you once felt.'
In the silence that slowly crept through the fading layers of air, Theo stood as the only point still alight within a space that swallowed every echo of steps and whispers.
He observed Aldraya with the precision that never strayed from his habit of reading the subtle cracks of the world he both created and inhabited.
The silence did not only mute sound, but also slowed time, giving space for Theo to form his considerations about the figure before him.
He saw how the lines of calmness in Aldraya were too clean, too controlled, resembling a curtain that hid something more fragile and ancient.
From the understanding that grew within him, freedom for Aldraya was not merely a concept but a frozen wound, and Theo could feel how that wound once shaped and simultaneously took away everything that made Aldraya appear alive.
In that settling contemplation, Theo thought about how freedom had never truly existed as a singular form.
He pondered that freedom sometimes appeared as the courage to stand amid ruin, sometimes as a void that eventually taught meaning, and sometimes as a small forgotten voice within someone, a voice that kept asking why a life must move without purpose.
In his depth, Theo understood that Aldraya's body was not just rejecting an answer, but rejecting a journey too close to a core she had buried since she was four.
A great change that would eventually befall the girl had already been etched faintly into her shadow, a change that would not only alter her shape but transform her view of faith, piety, and betrayal.
All of this made Theo reluctant to push her further, for he knew that some doors must not be opened by force, but through awareness that grows slowly and honestly.
Thus he chose a calmer approach, one that gave him room to acknowledge that every soul has the right to decide when it is ready to face a question that pierces its deepest center.
Theo regarded freedom as something born from meaning that could seep into the fractures of life, not from pressure demanding answers.
He allowed his awareness to envelop Aldraya, recalling the shadow of the girl's childhood when she once ran unburdened, before faith and piety and betrayal took her laughter and joy.
There was a small hope within Theo, a hope unspoken yet nurtured in silence, that someday the missing part would return even for a moment, bringing color to a world that had long imprisoned her in emotionless quiet.
"I am not angry. And I am not offended by your question.
It's just that if you ask for my answer now, I cannot say it yet.
Perhaps later. Not today."
'She chooses silence for now. Keeping her answer for who knows how long.
But at least it means she does not refuse forever—she merely delays, waiting for the moment she deems right.'
Aldraya stood as though she had just stepped out from her own shadow, no longer as tense as she was moments ago when her body froze like a cold fragment of marble.
There was a slight shift in the way she looked at Theo, a thin ease that did not come from emotion, but from the awareness that she was not being pressured by the question he asked.
The tension that had clung around her seemed to fade slowly, and in the widened space she found enough room to move once more as herself—or at least as a version of herself not being cornered to reveal something she guarded too deeply.
The space allowed her to breathe, even if her breath was never visible, letting her measure the distance between Theo's question and the calm she had always chosen as her shield.
Within that gentle change, a small clarity crossed her mind.
Theo was not trying to force her, not stretching pressure to drag out a definition.
That awareness loosened the thin burden that had clung to her, a burden not born from fear or anger, but from knowing that the question of freedom always touched the most fragile part of her being.
Now that the pressure had eased, she felt no need to protect herself as rigidly as before.
She was not angry.
She was not offended.
She simply stood at a point where part of her recognized that some answers could not emerge immediately, even if the question came from someone who understood her layers more deeply than anyone she had ever met.
Her figure moved slightly, not enough to be called an expression, but enough to show that she chose to respond, though not with the answer he sought.
Within her lay something she did not wish to reveal yet, a door that, if opened too soon, would disturb far more than she was prepared to face.
So she offered a gentle affirmation in silence.
She was not troubled by the question.
She did not see Theo's question as a binding weight.
But her answer regarding the essence of freedom could not yet be spoken.
Not because she did not know it, but because she understood the time to speak it had not yet come.
Another period, another point, when the words would form themselves and fall from her lips without creating unnecessary fractures.
For now, she chose an honest silence.
To be continued…