[Third person POV]
"Are you kidding me?" Sam asked, her voice sharp with disbelief as she stared at her grandmother like she'd suddenly sprouted a second head. Her brows furrowed and her jaw slackened, stunned by the revelation that had just been laid before her.
"Are you saying," Sam began, her voice cracking slightly as she struggled to process the words, "that in order for me to use magic, I have to give up the love I have for…" She trailed off. Her throat tightened and her chest felt heavy. She couldn't bring herself to say his name aloud. "That I need to give up the love I have?" she repeated, the words tasting bitter on her tongue, and she turned her face away bashfully. It was too embarrassing to admit the full truth of it.
Her grandmother nodded slowly, her eyes filled with something unreadable. "I'm afraid so. Although... it's not quite as terrible as it might sound," she said gently, though her face twisted into a faint grimace as if the memory still ached somewhere deep inside.
"Giving up your bond doesn't mean you stop caring for them. It simply means that no matter how much you might want it… you can never truly be together. Not in the way your heart desires."
Sam stood abruptly, pushing herself off of the bed. "I can't do something like that!" she cried, her voice rising with the swell of emotion inside her. "That's asking too much! Are you seriously telling me that you did it?! You used magic, after all!"
She stopped short when she saw the look in her Nana's eyes. It was a haunting expression—quiet, pained, but steady. Her face was distant, her mind clearly somewhere long ago. "Yes," she admitted, her voice soft. "I did. And I don't regret it."
Sam blinked, stunned. "How could you not regret it?"
"You can't regret what isn't there anymore," her grandmother replied, almost like she was reciting a mantra she had told herself for years. "That's not to say you can't love again. You can. But it will be… harder. Much harder. I didn't marry your grandfather for love, I'll tell you that much. But I came to care for him. Deeply. He was a good man."
Sam's voice cracked with desperation. "That isn't helping me at all! I can't do that! I can't just sacrifice my feelings like they're nothing!"
"How can anyone even think of doing something so cold and cruel?!" she cried, burying her face into her hands.
Her grandmother walked closer and rested a hand gently on Sam's shoulder. "If the loss wasn't so great," she said with patience, "it wouldn't be called a sacrifice. There are things in this world far more important than our own personal desires."
"Personal desires?!" Sam repeated, pulling away. Her voice trembled with disbelief and frustration. "Is that what you think love is? Just a desire—like hunger or ambition—that can be discarded for the sake of magic?! I just don't understand… What could possibly be more important than the love we carry in our hearts?!"
Her grandmother smiled softly, but it was the kind of smile that came after decades of reflection and wisdom. "Why, the person to whom that love is dedicated towards, of course."
Sam froze, her breath catching in her throat.
"Do you want to know why I willingly gave up my bond when I was about your age?" her Nana asked, her voice gentle now, tinged with wistfulness.
Sam nodded slowly, her heart pounding in her chest. She studied her grandmother's face, searching for answers hidden in the lines of age and wisdom.
"The one I loved was dying," her Nana said quietly. "He was slipping away… every breath he took was weaker than the last."
Sam's eyes widened, her breath shallow.
"There wasn't a decision to be made, not really," her grandmother went on. "It was simple. My love… or his life. And I knew what I had to do. I didn't hesitate, not even for a second. I gave up my bond. I gave up my heart. And I don't regret it."
She smiled now, a bittersweet light shining in her eyes. "He's still alive, you know. Married now. He has a beautiful family. And while we can never be what we once were… we're still friends. Good friends. And I'm happy for him. That's what love is sometimes. Letting go. Prioritizing someone else's future over your own feelings."
Sam bit down on her lower lip, her gaze falling to the floor. Her hands curled into fists at her sides as her mind spun with memories and thoughts that tangled and twisted like vines around her heart.
'It's such an impossible decision,' she thought bitterly. 'But then again… I'm not the only one that has to make impossible decisions. Danny does too. That's the whole reason I'm even considering this insanity in the first place—to help him. To perhaps make it easier for him. But can I really do it? Can I really let go of the one person who's meant everything to me?'
Her voice was almost a whisper. "What about my mother?" she asked, lifting her eyes to meet her grandmother's once more.
Her grandmother's expression softened, and she shook her head slowly. "She couldn't go through with it. She couldn't give up the love she has for your father. She knew where her heart belonged, and she followed it. That was her choice… and she accepted the consequences."
Sam stared down at her hands, her throat tight. She could feel the sting of tears behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
'Danny…' her mind whispered.
Images of him flooded her thoughts. Their first meeting as children—awkward, funny, perfect. The days they spent laughing, crying, learning, fighting side by side. He had always been there, a constant presence in her life, her rock, her light in the darkest moments. He had seen her for who she truly was and loved her anyway. Her feelings had grown over the years, blooming like a flower buried under snow.
To give all that up… felt like tearing out a piece of her soul.
And yet, the question still hung in the air like a ghost she couldn't exorcise:
Where do my priorities lie?
Sam grabbed her shirt tightly over her chest, right where her heart lay, and squeezed her eyes shut. The pressure in her chest threatened to crush her.
'If these feelings could be of use to him… If they can grant me the power to help him… then so be it.'
Silent tears streamed down Sam's cheeks as she opened her eyes, staring at her grandmother with a look of resigned determination. Her voice trembled, but her words were steady.
"Alright… What do I need to do?"
Seeing the resolve in her granddaughter's face, her grandmother gave a solemn nod and said, "Leave it all to me."
---
Sam sat silently in the center of a ritual circle, carefully drawn with intricate sigils and ancient runes that glowed faintly in the low light. The scent of wax and herbs hung thick in the air. Her grandmother moved purposefully around the perimeter of the room, holding a single lit candle as she used it to ignite others positioned strategically around the space.
One by one, each flame flickered to life, illuminating the room with a flickering orange glow. With the final candle lit, her grandmother stepped back into the circle and used her candle to complete the ring of fire around Sam.
She closed her eyes and began to chant in Latin—her voice low, rhythmic, and foreign. The words repeated like a sacred hymn, vibrating through the walls and into Sam's bones. The candle flames began to sway violently, as if a gust of wind had entered the sealed room.
Sam looked down and gasped as the magic circle beneath her suddenly lit up. Runes surged with power, tracing glowing patterns in a continuous stream of light. The entire circle pulsed with an ethereal hum.
A strange sensation rushed through her—like lightning in her veins, cold and electric.
"I-Is this… magic?" Sam whispered, looking down at her hands in stunned awe. Her skin glowed faintly, energy radiating through her fingertips, though it felt untamed, raw, and uncontrollable.
Then came the pain.
"AHHH!!" she cried out, doubling over as a sharp, stabbing pain lanced through her chest. Her eyes shot open just in time to see a glowing thread—thin, bright, and purple—spiraling out from her heart. It hovered in the air for only a second before it launched itself across the room and pierced through the wall, streaking off into the distance.
"In order to complete this ritual," her grandmother intoned, her voice layered with mystical reverberation as the wind of power howled around them, "you must be the one to sever the bond yourself. It is, after all, a sacrifice only you can make."
Sam's hands trembled as she looked at the thread, pulsing with life and love. Her grandmother returned to chanting, keeping the ritual active—but the weight of what Sam had to do loomed heavier than any magic in the room.
Slowly, Sam raised her hands, reaching for the delicate thread. Her fingers hovered just above it, hesitating. As she touched it, she gasped again—her vision shifted, and through the thread, she saw Danny.
He was at the grocery store with his mother, casually inspecting tomatoes while she argued over which fruits to buy. He looked calm. Safe. Normal.
But seeing him like that—seeing his smile, even if faint and distracted—her resolve crumbled.
"I can't…" she whispered in realization
"Sam, what are you waiting for?!" her grandmother shouted, urgency cutting through the ceremony. "I can't hold this ritual much longer! If it collapses, we'll both suffer the backlash!"
"I can't do it, Grandma!" Sam cried, her face anguished and resigned, collapsing to her knees as she clutched the glowing thread to her chest. "I love him! I love Danny! How can I ever let this go?!"
Her cries were like knives—raw and broken. Her shoulders shook as the tears poured freely down her face.
"I can't lose him… I can't! I love him too much!"
"Remember why you're doing this!" her grandmother cried out, her voice cracking for the first time. Her own eyes shimmered with tears at the sight of her granddaughter breaking. "Remember your priorities! The reason you're doing this is because you love him!"
Sam shut her eyes tightly as thick streams of tears rolling down her face, she screamed in agony, her voice tearing from her throat. "AHHHHHH!!!"
And then—simultaneously—two things happened at once.
With a final cry of pain, Sam ripped the thread from her own chest. The severance was immediate, a hollow snap that echoed through the room and within her soul. Her body shook, heart void, the connection gone.
But in the very instant the bond was broken, a flash of vibrant pink light burst into the room, illuminating the space with radiant energy.
A lantern ring hovered in front of Sam, glowing with emotion and purpose.
["Samantha Manson of Earth. You have great love in your heart. Welcome to the Star Sapphire Corps."]
---
Meanwhile, across town, Danny stood in the grocery store aisle holding a tomato, expression bored and distant as his mother continued debating which produce to buy.
Suddenly, the tomato slipped from his hand and splattered on the floor, unnoticed.
He staggered back, grabbing onto the cart for balance. His chest clenched painfully, like someone had taken his heart and crushed it in their fist.
He gasped, clutching at his shirt. "Sam?" he whispered, his voice hollow.
Tears rolled down his face without warning.
And he didn't know why.
…
As Sam let go of the string, it dissolved into shimmering particles of light that floated into the air like fireflies at twilight as it was sacrificed to magic. A strange stillness followed—brief, fragile.
Then something inside her snapped.
Not in a painful way, but like a lock clicking open after years of being sealed. She felt as though a massive chain had been lifted from around her soul—a weight she hadn't realized she'd carried until it vanished. A breath escaped her lips, and the room trembled with anticipation.
Her eyes snapped open.
Twin beams of radiant purple light exploded from them, blinding the room in an overwhelming flash. Power surged uncontrollably, pouring from her eyes and mouth in blinding rays as the circle of runes beneath her pulsed like a living thing. The mansion shook under the pressure of the unleashed magic, windows rattling, furniture groaning against the power pressing outward like a storm expanding from her core.
Sam rose into the air, slowly, as if gravity no longer recognized her existence. Her feet left the ground. Her limbs went limp, relaxed, as though she were in a trance. A thick aura of violet magic coiled around her like a living flame, crackling and surging. Her short hair floated freely, caught in the unseen winds of magic, dancing in all directions.
Hovering before her, the Star Sapphire ring remained, glowing softly in its pink hue.
Sam's hand reached out on instinct—not guided by conscious thought but by raw, innate power. Her magic gathered at her fingertips, like tendrils of energy wrapping around the lantern ring. The moment her energy touched it, the pink light of the ring flickered. Her aura began to bleed into it.
The ring resisted. But it was no match.
Cracks formed along its surface, tiny fractures growing rapidly. The ring groaned, whined like metal under pressure. Sam's magical essence overpowered the foreign construct, overwhelming its harmony.
With a sharp crack, the ring shattered—fragments of glowing pink crystal flying outward, hovering in the air around her like a galaxy caught in orbit.
Sam's voice echoed through the room, deeper, layered, almost divine. She spoke in a language unknown to her, not taught by any book, not heard in any realm she'd known. The words emerged effortlessly, the syllables rolling off her tongue like it was her first language.
The fragments of the shattered ring slowly began to move, drawn together by her will and bound by her magic. They twisted and realigned—not as a ring, but as a long, glowing thread of fused crystal and energy. A makeshift creation. Imperfect. Crude. Yet filled with power.
One end of the string coiled around her heart like a vine reclaiming its root.
The other surged outward, shooting across dimensions, space, and spirit—and found him.
The connection that had been severed moments ago reformed. Raw. Fractured. But whole.
The light show ceased abruptly, like someone flipped a switch. The tremors stopped. The winds silenced. The candles flickered violently once—and then went out all at once.
Darkness fell across the room, broken only by the slow descent of Sam's glowing figure.
She touched the ground gently, her knees buckling beneath her. She collapsed to all fours, gasping for air. Her body trembled violently, drenched in sweat. Strands of hair clung to her forehead. Her mascara had run down her cheeks in black trails, streaked with tears and exhaustion.
Only the sound of her breathing filled the room. Harsh. Shaky.
Her grandmother stared in stunned silence, lips parted as if trying to find words that had no place in this world.
"Sammy…" she finally whispered, barely audible. Her voice cracked in disbelief. "W-What… what did you just do?"
Sam let out a weak laugh—somewhere between hysterical relief and delirium. Her shoulders shook with it, as if laughter were the only thing keeping her upright. Her lips curled into a half-smile as she lifted her head, her eyes still glowing faintly in the dark.
"Magic…" she panted, breath catching in her throat.
"I did magic."
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