Henry was filled with extreme worry for Sophia's safety. This concern was a heavier burden than the threat from Beleth or the secrets of the Sanctuary Enclave. But Socrost offered a solution that, while somewhat cruel, was necessary in this situation.

"Henry, your love and selflessness for that girl are truly commendable. But sometimes, decisions based on emotion and fear are not the wisest choices for either of you." He paused, his silence affirming his recognition of Henry's feelings, before he continued in a gentler, inquisitive tone. "Do you really understand Sophia? Do you know how she would react, how she would cope with the difficult choices you may have to make in the future, the painful concessions you may have to accept to protect her?"

Socrost's words had touched upon his deepest fears and insecurities. He prided himself on knowing her better than anyone else in the world, on understanding her profound resilience.

But did he really know what she would do if he were to suddenly disappear from her life without a word, or worse, if he ceased to exist? Could she overcome that grief, or would she be forever tormented by it? Could she find new happiness, another shoulder to lean on, or would she be forever living in the shadow of the past, in the memories of what once was?

"There is a way," Socrost continued, his notion still calm, suggesting he could read Henry's hesitation and confused thoughts. "For you to see her reactions in advance. It will help you make a wiser decision, one that is less painful for both of you." Henry's thoughts stopped, and he focused all his attention on the words of the ancient mage. A glimmer of hope sparked in his heart.

Socrost sensed the change. He continued, his voice taking on a mystical quality, the power of ancient magic. "I can help you enter her truest dreams. As an invisible observer, you will witness how she reacts to hypothetical future challenges that I create, all while under my protection."

To enter another person's dream? To even control those dreams? Henry had never heard of such a high-level and complex form of mental magic. It was almost a forbidden art, a violation of the most private sanctuary of the soul, something that even the strongest mages would be cautious of. The internal conflict rose within him. He longed to know and to understand, but he feared hurting the woman he loved.

"Is that really possible, Sir Socrost?" he asked, his spiritual voice filled with doubt and a hint of worry. "And... is it absolutely safe for Sophia? I don't want anything, not even the smallest thing, to harm her."

"It is possible, Henry, and it will be safe if done by someone with enough experience and absolute control like me," Socrost affirmed, his blue light radiating certainty and confidence. He explained further, intending to calm Henry's fears: "I will not directly interfere with her consciousness or plant false thoughts in her mind. I will only create a space in her subconscious for her deepest emotions, instincts, and decisions to be naturally revealed." At this point, Socrost's tone became more serious, carrying a final warning. "But remember one thing, Henry, what you are about to witness may be heartbreaking. Do you have the courage to face those things? To accept the truth, no matter how cruel it is?"

He had to know. He needed to know. No matter how painful, no matter what tragedy he had to face, he had to know in order to make the best choice for her, for her future and happiness. "I agree, Sir Socrost. Please help me, I need to know." Socrost's blue light nodded in solemn assent. "Then prepare yourself, Henry. This process requires great focus from both you and me. Though what you see is only a dream, remember that it is her true feelings."

Henry woke up in their apartment. Sophia was fast asleep beside him, her breathing soft and steady. He remembered Socrost's instructions. A small magical seal of faint blue light had appeared on his forehead in the Spiritual Domain.

It was the connection mark that Socrost had created. Carefully, so as not to wake Sophia, Henry gently touched her smooth forehead with his finger that bore the magical seal. Instantly, he felt a spiritual connection between them, and his consciousness seemed to merge with Sophia's subconscious. Suddenly, everything around him blurred...

When he opened his eyes, he found himself in a familiar room.

The First Hypothetical Dream: The Eternal Departure and the Oath of the One Who Remains

The Spiritual Domain of the mind melted away, and Henry found himself standing in a dark corner of their cozy little apartment, a place that had held so many sweet memories, located on the small street near the ancient Estath Cathedral.

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Everything in the room was the same, from the small oak table where they used to have dinner by candlelight, to the colorful herb pots that Sophia loved, which were still neatly placed by the sunlit window. The air in the room was thick with a profound grief and emptiness; a part of its soul had been torn away forever.

Sophia was in their apartment, holding a letter with the red wax seal of the Investigation Bureau. The letter fell to the floor, but she didn't cry or scream. She just stood there, frozen, staring into the void. Henry remembered the first time he saw that look in her eyes, after the Dark Reaper's disaster when she was sitting among the corpses of her parents.

He saw Sophia sitting still by the wooden table, her small, thin back turned to him, a lonely figure whose posture conveyed a desperate attempt to withstand the world's weight. Her soft brown hair fell over her shoulders, which trembled with suppressed sobs. Then she slowly, mechanically, went to the closet, took out Henry's old leather jacket, buried her face in it, and took a deep breath, trying to find the last bit of his warmth. Only when she could no longer smell his familiar scent did she collapse to the floor, her thin shoulders shaking uncontrollably, but no sound came out.

In the first few days after receiving the tragic news, she barely ate or slept. She just sat there in the empty room, clutching the few mementos he had left behind - his old, worn leather jacket that he always wore on missions, the silver sword that had broken in half after countless battles he had fought to protect her, and the simple, plain gold wedding ring he had put on her finger in his adoptive mother's small house.

Her tears seemed to have long run dry, leaving only silent, broken sobs that tore through the quiet, mournful space of the room. Brena and Ragley, along with little Luna, often came to visit her, trying to comfort and share her immense grief. They brought her hot meals, sincere advice, and the quiet space she needed to face her pain. But it seemed that nothing and no one could soothe the wound that was still bleeding in her heart.

As an unwanted observer, Henry stood there, helpless, watching the woman he loved writhing in pain. He wanted to scream that he was still alive, to rush over and hug her tightly, to wipe away the tears from her gaunt face. But he couldn't. He could only stand there and watch, a helplessness that felt more agonizing than any physical wound.

But then, from the depths of her despair, Sophia slowly got up, showing the strong will and unshakeable resilience that Henry had always loved and admire. She looked in the mirror and saw a gaunt, unfamiliar face. But then she clenched her hands, and her eyes hardened. She didn't give up, and she didn't let the pain consume her.

She remembered what Henry had told her, his love and the price he paid, and the dreams of a happy future they had built together. She decided that she had to go on living, not just for herself, but for Henry as well, for the ideals he had always pursued and fought to protect.

She went to the Estath Cathedral, where she had found peace and purpose, and where she had shared happy moments with Henry. She dedicated herself to serving the gods, to helping the poor and the unfortunate. The light of faith and compassion once again shone in her soul, giving her the strength to continue on her lonely path.

The scene changed again. Ten years later, Sophia, in the white robe of a high-ranking cleric of the Church, was blessing orphans. Her smile was gentle, but her eyes no longer held the playful glint of her youth.

That night, she returned to their old apartment, which was still clean and well-kept. She cooked a bowl of soup and toasted a piece of bread, placing them next to a portrait of him. She spoke softly, "It's your birthday today... I'm doing okay. Everyone says I'm resilient. But... I miss you, Henry."

Fifty years later. Her hair was now streaked with white. She stood on the balcony of the Estath Cathedral, looking down at the growing city of Aerion. A young monk respectfully asked, "Sacred Maiden, what are you thinking about?".

Sophia just gave a sad smile. "I'm just thinking how wonderful it would be to have someone to watch this sunset with me."

When she became a Sacred Maiden, Sophia had tied her life to the Church. At this point, even if Henry had returned, she couldn't be with him. She had chosen a life of dedication, and she would walk this path alone.

In the final days of her long and meaningful life, Sophia returned to their small apartment, which still held Henry's warmth and memory. Her once-brown hair was now as white as snow. Her body was weak, and her eyes had dimmed from the weight of time and unspoken pain.

In a place where every object and every corner was tied to an unforgettable memory, she sat in the old chair where Henry used to read. Her trembling hand held the simple wedding ring on her thin finger. She smiled peacefully, with a sense of relief.

"Henry... I'm going to see you soon... I've lived a meaningful life, just as you always wanted." Slowly, she closed her eyes, taking her last breath and leaving peacefully. She left with the hope of reuniting with the man she loved in another world.

Henry witnessed everything during that long, painful dream. From the depths of her grief to her extraordinary resilience, from her absolute loneliness to her quiet self-denial. He felt the pain of helplessness, but also the emotion and boundless admiration for Sophia's love and loyalty. His gentle girl had an iron will and love.

She had lived a meaningful, noble life, but it was also a life of loneliness and regret, a life of endless, fruitless waiting.

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