One week later, I had survived: Three glitter storms.Two spontaneous musical numbers. Worst, or maybe best of all, a magical ferret that wouldn't stop reciting love poems in Malvor's voice while dramatically clutching wildflowers and weeping into a moss pile. So yeah. Progress. Eyeroll...
I stepped through the portal into Ahyona's realm and was immediately hit with the familiar scent of smoldering sage, sweet cornmeal, and barely restrained emotional chaos. Candlelight flickered in lanterns carved from hollowed driftwood, and somewhere in the distance, a flute played a song so old it made my bones ache. I sighed. Deep. Tired. Soul-weary.
Ahyona didn't even look up from her carved bench layered in furs and worn quilts. She just extended a hand, weathered, gentle, steady, toward a clay mug already steaming. I took it. Sat down beside her. I didn't flinch at the softness. "I don't even know where to start," I muttered into the tea. "There's glitter in the plumbing. A cupcake ambush in the third realm. And the ferret, Ahyona, the ferret won't stop quoting Malvor like he's some tragic poet-god with unresolved… everything."
I sipped. Cedar and rose hips, a little honey, a whisper of grief. "And somehow, despite all of that... I set a boundary." That made me smile. "I told him no chaos in the bedroom. None. Except the fun kind. That's sacred."
I let that sit. Let myself feel proud of it. "He actually listened. No arguing. No dramatic protest involving enchanted coyotes or choreographed sad flute solos. Just… a quiet nod. A small snap of his fingers. And, whoosh, peace." My fingers curled around the mug a little tighter. "It's stupid how much that meant to me."
I didn't need Ahyona to say anything. Not really. The lodge exhaled with me, soft music, warm candlelight, the faintest scent of rain on stone. It didn't feel like being managed. It felt like being seen. That was enough.
At the end of our session, Ahyona didn't speak. Didn't say "good job" or "I'm proud of you." Not with words.
She just rose from her bench, set down her own tea, and walked over in a soft sweep of leather and woven cotton. I blinked up at her. "What?"
Ahyona took my hands. Turned them palms-up. Studied the skin like it held ancient songs etched in invisible ink. "I think," she said, voice quieter now, "you're ready."
My heart skipped. I didn't have to ask what for. Her thumbs traced slow circles at the center of my palms. The skin there had always been strangely blank. Like it had been… waiting. "These were meant to be healing runes," she murmured. "But they could only be carved when you were strong enough to carry them. Strength, child, is not the absence of pain."
I swallowed. "What if I'm not ready?"
Ahyona smiled. Not wide. Not comforting. Just real. "You are. Because you asked for peace. And meant it."
The air shimmered. The lodge stilled. Even the chimes above the door hushed. I tensed, but I didn't flinch. Warmth began to bloom beneath my skin. Slow at first. Then pulsing. Not fire. Not pain. Something alive. Light spilled across my palms in delicate lines, curling upward like vines reaching toward sun. Symbols I couldn't name but knew somewhere deep in my bones etched themselves into being. Not rage. Not power. Not revenge. Restoration. It didn't hurt. Not like the others. There was pressure, yes. Heat. But it came with release. Like sobbing in safety. Like bleeding without fear. Like remembering and surviving in the same breath. I gasped softly as the light crested my wrists, wrapping my hands in glowing, sacred truth.
Then stillness. Ahyona let go. The runes remained. Faint. Elegant. Shimmering in rose-gold, pulsing once, then settling into my skin like they'd always belonged. I stared. I could feel it, deep down. The ability to heal now. To offer what I had barely been allowed to want.
"It's not just magic," Ahyona said, her voice barely above the wind in the rafters. "It's reflection. Of who you are when you're not surviving."
I flexed my fingers. The glow dimmed, but the warmth remained. I smiled. "I didn't scream," I whispered.
Ahyona raised her chin. Her eyes shone, not with tears. but with something older. Pride, maybe. Or remembrance. "No, child," she said. "This time… you bloomed."
The moment I stepped through the threshold back into Malvor's realm, I knew. Chaos had evolved. There were now hovering teacups circling the chandelier, arguing with one another in accents from three different realms, one of which, I'm pretty sure, was vaguely pirate. The hallway was upside down. Literally. The sconces burned backward. The carpet defied gravity. There was a llama playing chess with a sentient candle. The air smelled faintly of toasted marshmallow and divine arrogance. I didn't flinch. Not this time. I just stepped forward, calm, steady, newly marked hands glowing faintly at my sides. Malvor appeared before I even called his name.
One second, the room was still. The next, Malvor was there, grinning like someone had just whispered the best secret in the cosmos straight into his soul.
"There she is!" he beamed. He scooped me up in a whirlwind hug so fast the floating teacups crashed into each other in alarm. "I missed you!"
I clung to him, laughing despite myself. "I was gone for an hour."
"That was a whole hour I was without you, My Forever! Do you understand how eternally long that is when your soul is singing and no one is around to duet?"
I kissed him. Just a soft brush of lips, quiet, real. A tether. He stilled. Arms tightening around me like he was afraid I might vanish again.
"I'm back," I whispered against his chest.
He pulled away just far enough to look at me. His eyes were warm, impossibly bright, like I'd just made the sun rise for him. "I have so much to tell you!"
"I assumed."
"There was a storm made entirely of confetti and emotional feedback! Arbor now glows in the dark, but only if you whisper compliments to it first. I'm not saying I built a sentient muffin, but… he may have declared himself a duke."
I let my head rest gently on his shoulder. "Of course he did."
He held me closer. "I didn't do any of it to impress you," he murmured, quieter now. "I just… wanted to make the world fun enough that it feels worthy of you being in it."
I believed him. As he spun into tales of muffin nobility and emotionally unstable chandeliers, two enchanted teacups above us shrieked mid-argument, slammed into each other, and shattered spectacularly. Glass and gold raining down in a twinkling mess of magical carnage. I didn't flinch. I just raised my hands. The runes on my palms shimmered, rose-gold and soft as breath. I knelt. Touched the shards. Warmth pulsed from my skin into the broken pieces. And the air held still, like the entire realm had paused to watch. The fragments lifted, gentle, reverent, and stitched themselves back together. A quiet ping! marked the moment the final handle reattached. The teacups hovered again, wobbling slightly… but whole.
Malvor gasped, like I'd just healed time itself. "Oh my STARS—" Before I could so much as roll my eyes, he scooped me up again in another spin-hug, complete with dramatic foot lift and a squeak of pure chaos-joy. "YOU HEALED MY DRAMATIC TEACUPS!"
I wheezed. "You're going to snap my spine—"
"This is the best day of my eternal existence!" He pulled back just enough to stare at me. "You glow," he whispered. "You actually glow. You've never been more dangerous and I have never been more into it."
My cheeks burned. He wasn't being cute. He was being sincere. That was worse. "I will write poems about these hands," he declared. "Sonatas. Maybe a cursed opera."
"Please don't."
"Too late. I already commissioned one. The ferret's composing."
I laughed. He looked at me like the world had stopped being terrible for five whole seconds. Maybe… it had.
The rest of the day was unapologetically unhinged. Malvor introduced me to the Muffin Duke, who wore a cravat, spoke only in haikus, and was in the middle of a political standoff with the butter dish. I played along. Not out of obligation. But because, it was fun. No masks. No performances.
Just chaos, curiosity, and me. Still healing. Still here. Finally… laughing like I meant it.