Powerless Boy is reborn as Lustful Elf
Chapter 40: The next morning

Chapter 40: The next morning

The morning sun poured through the towering windows of Thalorin’s home, spilling golden light across the long, polished wooden table.

The remnants of breakfast lay scattered across its surface, crumbs from freshly baked bread, the faint sheen of honey left on a silver knife, and the lingering warmth of clay cups that had once held spiced tea.

Outside, the world stirred with the quiet hum of a new day.

Birds trilled from the high branches beyond the glass, their songs weaving through the rustling leaves.

The light, soft at first, grew richer as it stretched across the room, catching on the deep grain of the wooden beams above and casting shifting patterns on the floor.

Dust motes floated lazily in its glow, dancing with each breath of air that stirred the curtains.

The air still carried the lingering aroma of warm bread, its rich, yeasty scent woven with the subtle sweetness of butter and honey.

Beneath it, the deeper, more complex notes of spiced tea curled through the room, cinnamon and clove, softened by a hint of citrus, their warmth clinging to the wooden beams like a memory that refused to fade.

Each breath drawn in carried the echoes of the morning’s meal, a quiet comfort that lingered even as the plates were cleared away, the soft clink of porcelain against wood marking the steady rhythm of routine.

Lyriel stood near the hearth, the flickering embers casting a soft, wavering glow upon the folds of her robe.

Her fingers traced absent patterns over the fabric, smoothing invisible creases with a quiet, methodical grace.

Though her face remained calm, there was a certain weight in the way her hands moved, an unspoken effort to steady herself against the moment.

The warmth of the dying fire brushed against her skin, its gentle heat a stark contrast to the cool morning air creeping in from the open doorway.

Thalorin leaned casually against the wooden frame, his posture relaxed but his presence commanding.

The golden light from the windows caught in the strands of his blond hair, making it gleam like threads of spun moonlight.

Shadows played across the sharp lines of his face, accentuating the quiet strength etched into his features.

Sylra hovered near Alex, her wide eyes darting between him and the others, as if searching for some unspoken reassurance.

A restless energy radiated from her small frame, her bare feet shifting against the wooden floor with quiet, fidgeting movements.

Her fingers twisted and untwisted the hem of her tunic, the fabric crumpling beneath her grip, a silent testament to the storm of emotions she struggled to contain

Urell, ever the practical one, lounged in his chair with an air of studied indifference, one arm draped over the backrest while his other hand idly picked at a stray crumb on the table.

His sharp eyes flicked toward the others now and then, unreadable yet ever observant, as if measuring the weight of the moment but refusing to be burdened by it.

At the center of it all, Alex stood in quiet stillness, his pack resting at his feet like an unspoken declaration of his impending departure.

Though the meal had ended, the weight in his chest had only grown heavier, settling over him like a shadow that no amount of light could chase away.

His fingers curled slightly against the grain of the wooden table, grounding him in the present even as the future loomed just beyond the threshold.

The meal had been hearty, rich with warmth and familiar flavors, but its comfort had already begun to fade, replaced by the quiet weight of what came next.

The plates had been cleared, the laughter had dwindled, and now only the unspoken remained, a lingering hush that settled over the room like a held breath.

Alex could feel it pressing against his chest, that inevitable moment when the past and present stood on one side, and the unknown stretched out before him on the other.

His time here had run its course.

No more shared breakfasts at this table, no more easy mornings filled with the nice scent of weird looking foods and drinks

Change had arrived, silent yet certain, and with it came the truth he could no longer delay, it was time to leave, to step beyond the home that had shaped him and into the embrace of the family that had adopted him.

Sylra’s lower lip quivered, a delicate tremor that seemed to echo the storm of emotions swirling beneath her wide eyes.

She stepped forward, her frame barely making a sound as she moved, yet every inch of her posture radiated the weight of the moment.

Her shoulders, usually full of the vibrant energy that defined her, sagged slightly, as if the effort to hold herself together required all her focus.

The trembling of her lip grew more pronounced as she halted in front of Alex, her hands fidgeting helplessly at her sides, betraying the anxious energy that burned beneath her usually playful exterior

Without a word, Sylra flung herself at Alex, her small arms wrapping around him in a desperate, impulsive embrace.

The world seemed to pause for a heartbeat as she buried her face against his chest, her breath warm and shaky against the fabric of his shirt.

The force of her hug was almost startling, tight and unyielding, as if she sought to tether him to this moment, to keep him from slipping away into the uncertain future.

Her fingers dug into his back, a silent plea to stay, to remain where things were still familiar, still safe.

There was an intensity in the way she held him, almost fierce in its determination, as though the strength of her grip could somehow make time stand still, could freeze him here,

Alex hesitated for only a heartbeat, the sudden weight of her emotions catching him off guard and he wrapped his arms around her in return.

His touch was gentle at first, almost tentative, as his hands rested on her back, feeling the slight quiver of her frame beneath the fabric of her tunic.

Search the lightnovelworld.cc website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.