February 5, 2021: Schilderwald

Despite the fact that she burdened herself with the duty of settling her family's enormous debt, she still long-coveted to fall in love with a man who could act as her solace amidst all the trials she was going through.

Having heard his words, Syn realized that Tristan's love for her turned out to be a weight that she didn't want to bear any more.

If the man was looking forward to the outcome that he wouldn't recognize Arthasia's efforts as early as the beginning, then it was as if their parting didn't happen in the first place. The thought that Tristan could be inconsiderate for the feelings of a woman, who was genuinely attracted to him, deeply discouraged Syn's resolution that she would support the two along with their struggles.

She didn't have the capacity nor the patience to tolerate a person who wasn't willing to cooperate. The lady did care for Tristan's well-being, but there was a limit as to what she could yield to him, and that includes her devotion. Arthasia's emergence was a chance for her to distance herself from Tristan, who was slowly entangling himself in Syn's labyrinth of a life.

At first, Syn didn't regret allowing him to take their relationship further. She wanted to test if she was prepared to settle down with a man like Tristan. But it had been a grave mistake. It arrived at a point that she dreaded every single day that she saw him being happy all the while she was contemplating on terminating their contract. Bearing that in mind for nearly a week, Tristan's position in her life was established. She knew that the seed of his love wouldn't flourish in her heart, whose soil was deprived of nourishments, forever nurturing grievances.

Syn squeezed her eyes shut, and breathed as if it was her last. Then, she pushed Tristan away from her, making sure to do it gently to not show her frustration.

Ache screamed through her heart, burning her eyes that held back her tears.

"Tristan, your words are hurting me as much as my decision is hurting you. Please, do this, not only for Arthasia, but for me and yourself." Quivering and quiet, Syn's voice penetrated deep within Tristan's conscience.

Heretofore, the man was made aware that the lady was preoccupied of her familial responsibilities. That said, he felt remorse in pushing himself onto the lady, but he couldn't seem to control his urge to monopolize the Syn.

Tristan scraped the rough surface of the cement with the tips of his fingers, stopping when his fists were crumpled. Maintaining his eye contact with Syn, he hit the wall with his hands. It was unceasing. One hit, two hits, they weren't enough to quell his woe, posing as a selfish display of anger.

As his consciousness fell deeper into his void of afflictions, Syn's muffled voice drifted towards it, assaying to wake him up from his reverie.

"Thank you, Tristan," Syn said as she used one of her hands to cushion one of Tristan's punches. Her actions effectively made him come around. He faltered upon the thought that he might physically hurt the lady further than what he had already done.

Latterly of uttering her gratitude, Syn held both of his hands, rubbing his bruised knuckles to confer some comfort.

"Because of you, I had someone to lean on. You provided me with a place where I can be assured of my safety. However, I don't want to burden you anymore. Rather than continuing to make you wait for a time that will never come, I'd prefer if you're in the arms of a woman who can love you as much as you want them to."

With his never endings taut, Tristan's vision slowly became blurry as a burning pain rose in his pupils. His voice was caught in his throat, merely allowing stifled cries to escape.

It was inevitable that she would elicit such a reaction from the man who truly wanted to for her to be his. Syn couldn't endure seeing the man cry, so she let go of her hold on his hands. Then, she caressed his face, wiping his tears with the back of her hand. And for the last instance, she gave him a kiss.

It was brief and light, sending a rabble of butterflies in his stomach, towering over all his sorrows. A fleeting happiness burrowed itself within his soul.

At the moment that Syn freed Tristan's lips, the lady brushed through his hair with her fingers, patting his head thereafter.

"I hope that you will be able to treasure Arthasia. I will be moving my things later, so you don't have to worry about it." Syn sighed, halting her speech to let Tristan process what she was saying. "I will bid you farewell now, Tristan."

Trailing her goodbye, Syn began to saunter, away from Tristan who was still frozen on his spot. As she gazed at the opening of the alley, there she saw Arthasia. The woman was listless, evident from her tightly joined hands as if she was praying for a miracle. Her features were hidden in a wretched guise, unmasking the betrayal that broke her heart into lonely fragments.

Even though Syn's guilty-conscience was urging her to assuage Arthasia's unease, her steps were unhesitant, passing by the woman without uttering a word. Her determination to liberate Tristan from the chain that they both weaved was set and irrevocable.

Distressed, Syn didn't want to welcome the coldness of the winter air and the cruelty of what she had just done to Tristan and Arthasia. Her countenance worked in her favour, hiding her desire to break down from the built-up tension in her body that suffocated her.

She walked, not knowing her destination. She let her feet guide her to where she was supposed to go. All the while she strode through the snow-free pavements, a new conviction was formed in her mind, something that she simply hoped to abide by.

'I will never accept anyone in my life ever again.'