The late afternoon sun stretched across the garden like a slow exhale, casting golden light across flowerbeds and stone. The five of them—Lillian, Diana, Claire, Camille, and Tessa—settled into their places with a rhythm that had become second nature. No one said anything more about my flustered reaction, though the glances I caught in the quiet spoke volumes.
Claire had started weaving little wildflowers into a chain, handing me one absentmindedly before beginning another. "You'd look cute with one of these behind your ear," she said without looking up.
"I'm not wearing a flower crown."
She tilted her head toward me. "You say that, but you haven't taken it off."
I reached up and, sure enough, the little loop of petals she'd handed me had found its way into my hair.
I cleared my throat. "It's camouflage. For war."
Diana, lounging gracefully on a nearby bench, sipped her tea and said, "She's surrendering, more like. One blush at a time."
Camille smiled, but it was Lillian who leaned in slightly closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "If this is surrender, then it's the most beautiful one I've ever seen."
I could have combusted on the spot.
Tessa watched all of this quietly, her expression unreadable, but her eyes never left me. Her fingers brushed a stray petal off my sleeve, slow and precise, like she didn't want me to miss the touch.
The air was warm, full of sunlight and perfume, of flirtation and things unspoken. No one rushed to fill the space between words. It was the kind of moment that settled beneath the skin, lingering like perfume on fingers long after the flowers had been picked.
I leaned back on my palms, watching clouds inch lazily across the sky.
"We'll be second-years soon," I murmured.
Claire groaned. "Don't say it like that. Makes me feel ancient."
"You feel ancient because you're always sore from chasing after student council paperwork you left in three different classrooms," Diana said.
"You love me," Claire replied, tossing a flower at her.
"It's the only explanation I have left."
Lillian giggled, and Camille sighed through a gentle smile. Tessa shook her head, amused.
It was perfect.
It was awful.
Because I could feel it building. That quiet knowing. The kind that presses behind your ribs when you realize you're in the middle of something you're going to miss.
"Have you all thought about what you want to do after this?" I asked suddenly, surprising even myself.
They looked at me. The moment stilled.
Lillian tilted her head. "After graduation?"
I nodded.
Diana hummed thoughtfully. "Politics, most likely. Or diplomacy. My family expects it."
"I want to travel," Claire said without hesitation. "Everywhere. With a camera and a bag of snacks."
"An academy instructor," Camille said softly. "Maybe."
Tessa, as always, didn't answer right away.
And then, quietly: "Somewhere quiet. Somewhere safe."
They each had answers.
I didn't.
Because every possibility I imagined had them in it.
Lillian reached for my hand again, gently interlacing our fingers. "And you, Sera?"
I looked at her, and then at all of them, glowing gold in the afternoon sun.
"I don't know yet," I said honestly. "But I know I want to keep remembering this."
Claire raised an eyebrow. "This?"
"This moment," I said, a little softer. "All of you. Here."
They didn't tease me for once. They just… listened. Sat with it. Let it settle in their bones like I had.
For a while, we didn't speak. We didn't need to.
I looked at each of them—Lillian's warmth, Diana's fire, Claire's spark, Camille's calm, Tessa's silence. And for a flicker of a second, I imagined a future with each of them. A hundred different versions of happiness, all rooted in this same garden.
Maybe someday, I'd have to choose. Maybe someday, I'd have to say goodbye.
But not today.
The breeze had shifted into something gentler, cooler, tugging at the hem of my coat and lifting strands of my hair as the sun began to slip below the rooftops of the academy. Shadows stretched longer across the garden path, and the lanterns hanging from the ivy-wrapped archways began to flicker to life one by one.
No one rushed to leave.
We remained there, tangled in the soft lull of shared presence. Claire had eventually dozed off in the grass beside me, one hand still tangled in a half-finished chain of petals, the other resting comfortably against my boot as if to tether herself to me even in sleep.
Camille had moved to sit just behind me, her back against the low stone wall, her knee lightly brushing against mine, a quiet, unspoken point of contact that she didn't draw attention to. She didn't speak, but every so often, her fingers would twitch like she was about to, and then stop. She just stayed, ever-present, with eyes like frost and candlelight.
Diana had gone silent too—though her silence wasn't absence. She was watching the horizon from her spot on the bench, her profile sharp against the glow of twilight, teacup long forgotten beside her. I knew she was listening. Calculating. Always seeing more than she said.
Tessa leaned against the far archway with arms loosely crossed, her posture relaxed but vigilant. If she noticed how often her gaze returned to me, she didn't show it. There was something guarded in her stillness—but not distant. Just waiting. Always waiting, like she'd learned a long time ago that the most important things were the ones that came on quiet feet.
Lillian was beside me, of course. Head gently tilted toward mine, her pink strands brushing against my cheek whenever the wind stirred. She hadn't let go of my hand. I wasn't sure I wanted her to.
It was too much.
And not enough.
I swallowed, unsure why my chest ached. It wasn't sadness. Not really. Just a weight I didn't have a name for. The kind that fills you when you realize the world is moving around you, and you don't quite know how to hold onto everything at once.
"I wish this could last forever," I whispered.
Lillian's fingers squeezed mine softly. "Then make it last," she said gently. "At least for tonight."
The others didn't respond—but they didn't need to. They'd heard me. I knew it in the way Diana shifted ever so slightly toward the center of our little circle. In the way Camille's hand brushed her skirt, resting just beside mine as if inviting me to close the gap. In the way Tessa's gaze softened. In the way Claire, even in sleep, curled instinctively closer.
I breathed in slowly and closed my eyes.
The scent of flowers.
The warmth of their magic lingering faintly in the air.
The sound of Lillian's quiet breath.
This was the moment I would remember when I was alone. When the road ahead turned silent and strange. This was the one I would write about in letters I might never send.
Because it wasn't just that I loved them.
It was that I knew, deep in my chest, they each had a piece of me. And somehow, without ever asking, I'd taken pieces of them too.
"I want…" My voice cracked before I could stop it. "I want to give something back."
Diana's voice answered, low and smooth. "You already did."
Camille nodded once, eyes half-lidded. "You changed everything."
Tessa looked away, her voice barely audible. "We were waiting for you. Even before we knew it."
Claire mumbled in her sleep, "...Sera, gimme my pastry back…"
We laughed, quietly. Softly. And it was beautiful.
I leaned back on the cool stone, head tilted toward the darkening sky, and for the first time in a long while, I didn't feel like I was trying to outrun something. I wasn't lost.
I was here.
I was theirs.
Even if I couldn't be forever.
And maybe… that was enough. For now.
The sun dipped just beyond the academy's far ridge, bathing the sky in hues of dusty violet and burning amber. Lanterns flickered around the perimeter of the garden, casting their soft golden glow in lazy circles that bled into one another, and the petals on the ground shimmered faintly in the low light—like magic hadn't left this place, only learned how to breathe quieter.
No one spoke.
The silence wasn't heavy. It was… sacred. A shared pause before whatever came next.
Claire stirred beside me with a quiet grunt, her violet eyes blinking open and adjusting to the twilight. She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes with a yawn. "What'd I miss?"
"Everything," Diana replied coolly, brushing her skirt as she stood, her silhouette tall and stately against the darkening sky. "But you were endearing. In a barn-cat sort of way."
"Rude." Claire grinned, unbothered. "Sera, did you protect me while I slept?"
I opened my mouth to deny it, but Claire leaned in with a teasing smirk before I could answer, resting her chin on my shoulder. "My gallant knight."
Lillian's hand tensed ever so slightly in mine, though her smile never faltered. Camille raised an eyebrow, faintly amused, while Tessa gave the smallest shake of her head, as though she couldn't believe the ridiculousness—yet was quietly fond of it all the same.
"I think it's time we head in," Camille said, her voice as soft and crisp as always. "The staff will start closing the outer wards soon."
"Mmm," Lillian hummed gently, rising to her feet, then turning to help me up as well. "We could stay for a bit longer. If Sera wants to."
The way she looked at me—eyes luminous in the lanternlight, her pink hair catching the glow like spun silk—it made me forget how to breathe for a second.
I stood slowly, brushing stray petals from my coat, fingers still tingling from where hers had touched mine.
"I… yeah," I said softly. "Maybe just a few minutes more."
Diana raised an eyebrow at that, lips twitching. "Soft."
"Shut up."
"You like it," she replied smoothly, stepping close enough that her shoulder brushed against mine in passing.
They all did, in one way or another—lingering longer than necessary, walking slower than they needed to. Tessa waited at the garden gate for the rest of us to catch up, quiet as always, but I caught the glance she gave me beneath her dark lashes. Watchful. Not expectant. Just… there.
We wandered together, following the curved garden path back toward the dorms, the warm lights of the academy spilling out through tall windows, painting rectangles of gold over trimmed hedges and stone. I walked in the middle—where they could all reach me. Claire looped her arm lazily around mine, leaning in too close. Camille walked in step beside me, her hands folded in front of her, eyes tilted toward the sky. Diana sauntered at my other side, just close enough to keep me conscious of her presence. Tessa walked behind us, silent, but I could feel the low thrum of her magic tracing along the path like a quiet protection spell.
And Lillian, of course, never let go.
The evening folded around us like a page gently turning. No drama. No battles. Just the warmth of the girls I'd come to care about more than I ever thought I could. Each of them carrying something in their hearts that only I could see clearly now. And me?
I had no idea how to choose between them.
Maybe I never would.
Maybe I wouldn't have to.
Not yet.
As we reached the wide steps leading to the dorms, the group slowed, reluctant.
Claire was the first to break the quiet. "We should do this more often."
"We do this every other day," Diana pointed out.
"And we should still do it more."
Lillian laughed, gentle and melodic. "I agree."
I lingered at the bottom step, watching as one by one they began to filter toward the doors. But then Camille paused, turning slightly.
"Sera?"
I looked up.
She didn't say anything else—just looked at me. For a long, breathless moment.
Then she smiled.
The soft, real one.
And turned to follow the others.
I was the last to climb the stairs.
I stood there for a second longer, hand resting on the railing, and felt something deep in my chest stir. Not fear. Not longing.
Readiness.
A whisper of what was coming.
The closing of one chapter.
And the quiet beginning of something else.