POV Maria
It has been seven days since my son left for the neutral city of Askov to take part in a conference with four of the most important people in the Kingdom of Elveron.
I wanted so badly to go with him… I wanted to stand by my youngest son, to protect him, but how could I abandon Emanuelle and Anthony? And, in the end, it wasn't even a trip meant to be enjoyed, but a conference — which, in truth, was nothing more than a trial.
On the third day, the memories returned like knives to my chest. Baron Hoffmann destroying my family. Then, my new life being ripped from me when my husband was killed. I thought I had buried those horrors, but they insist on haunting me. Perhaps it was even for the best that I didn't go to Askov… if that monster had seen me, maybe he would have remembered. Maybe he would have brought more ruin.
I spent these days cleaning the house and Elise's infirmary, where I am staying. Just ordinary routines, but they keep me alive… me and the only people I have left, the only reasons I haven't ended my own life. I know — I know it would be a coward's selfishness, but this pain devours me day after day.
"Why did these memories have to return?" I murmured to myself as the tears burned. The face of Helena, dying before me, still tears my heart apart.
I looked at Emanuelle and Anthony eating at the table. My greatest wish was that my parents and siblings could see them grow, become good people… but I know that wish is another kind of selfishness. Because without that incident, without all that pain, I would never have this family which is at once my damnation and my happiness.
Emanuelle, always so attached to her brother, spends her days asking me where Elian is, if he's gone forever. I only answer that he traveled with Elise and will be back soon. But deep down, I wonder: will the boy I know return the same? Either way, he will be my son until the last day of my life, and I will never say otherwise.
Elian is my last light. When I discovered I was pregnant with him, I found in him a happiness I thought I would never feel again. And on the day of his birth, when my body was unraveling at death's edge, that child gave me life back with his light. I love all my children equally, I would never make distinctions between them. But… perhaps that near-death experience bound me even more tightly to him. Perhaps that's why Emanuelle is so attached to Elian as well.
During these seven days, both Marduk and Gremory stayed by our side, like our bodyguards. They were there to prevent another attack from falling upon us. But deep down, who can guarantee nothing will happen again? Sometimes I wonder… am I the one who needs protection the most? Or is it Elian, out there on that journey, facing the road with Wild Beasts and bandits hiding along the way?
I'm certain that if he could choose, Elian would ask for protection for us first. That's who he is. Sometimes I feel he carries a mindset that doesn't match his age. I've caught myself noticing it. But there are also moments when he is just a child again, especially when he plays with Emanuelle. The two are inseparable. He and Anthony don't share the same closeness, but they still enjoy each other from time to time.
We were eating lunch when Marduk rushed into the room, pulling me from my thoughts. At once I remembered that today was the day of their return. He was dressed as always — the same as the day we were attacked. Armed, prepared, as if waiting for the next battle at any moment. Perhaps that is the fate of mages: never being able to rest completely.
"Lady Maria," he began, his breath slightly hurried, "they came running to tell me Elise is returning in a carriage."
He paused for a moment. I don't know if he hesitated to continue or if he was just watching me. But I barely thought of Elise. My heart was already pounding with a single name: Elian. The longing weighed on me like a stone in my chest. I wanted to see my boy, to feel his arms around me again, to hold him as if I would never let him go.
Before I could say anything, Emanuelle stood up from the table, leaving her food behind.
"Is Eli with her?" she asked, her voice overflowing with joy and anxiety.
Marduk looked at her before replying, unhurried.
"They couldn't see… or maybe the boy who came to tell me couldn't make out if he was there."
His words cut my breath short. What do you mean they couldn't see? How could he not be there? Had he been left behind? Had he, somehow, been accused unjustly and imprisoned for daring to confront a noble of the realm? Or… worse. I refuse to even let that thought take form — I cannot believe my son could have died on the road.
Emanuelle's expression changed in an instant. The joy in her eyes turned to sorrow. The same was happening to me, though in my case it was the suffocating anxiety of losing someone else.
Anthony seemed to notice our change and, with a maturity that didn't match his eleven years, he spoke:
"Mother, Emanuelle… let's wait outside."
I looked at him with pride. So young, yet already trying to act like a man. And that pride was always accompanied by pain. Why did he have to grow up so soon? Why did life take his innocence along with his father? I wished he could still be just a child, but fate did not allow it.
I breathed deeply, trying to hold back the wave of anguish. There was no use drowning in those memories now. I needed to stand firm for them.
"You're right, Anthony. Let's wait outside."
"Yes," he replied firmly, while Emanuelle was already darting ahead, impatient, not even waiting for me to say another word.
★★★
The sun was high, burning at the center of the sky — a cruel contrast with the day they departed for Askov. That day it felt like the universe wept with me: the winds were sharp, the rain mingled with my tears as I watched the simple carriage turn the corner and take my son away. Today, the heat suffocated, the dry wind scorched my lungs with every breath.
In the distance, a carriage appeared. Not just any carriage, but a luxurious one drawn by two black horses. All in black, with details that spoke of mourning. With every heavy step of those beasts, my heart quickened.
It looked like a funeral procession. The thought pierced me like a blade: Could Elian be inside?
Before I could bury that fear within me, Emanuelle asked aloud:
"Mother… do you think Elian is in that carriage?"
I looked at her, but couldn't answer right away. Any word of mine would only be a guess, and I didn't want to lie. I chose the most cowardly answer — and perhaps the most logical.
"I believe so, my daughter. Let's wait and see."
Anthony remained silent, but his anxiety was clear. His eyes were fixed on the carriage, as if at any moment he might dash toward it.
And then it stopped before us. Black, with red details, imposing and strange. On the sides, a symbol I recognized, even though I wished I didn't.
"Dark Throne?" murmured Marduk, surprised. "Why would Elise return in a Dark Throne carriage?"
It made no sense to him, and even less to me. But, truthfully, I didn't care. I wasn't interested in which carriage they came in, nor in which order was involved. I only wanted to see my son.
The side door opened. The first to step out was Elise, in her Tower of Wisdom robes.
"Good day, Maria."
"Good day, Elise," I replied, my voice calm only on the surface, because inside I was all anxiety. "Where is Elian?"
She only looked at me, without answering, and turned to Marduk, starting a quiet conversation I couldn't hear. I didn't care.
The second to emerge was a woman I had never seen. She wore military clothes, black with red details. The same uniform I vaguely remembered seeing as a child, among the soldiers who marched through the marketplace where my father had his shop. She was taller than me, black hair to her shoulders, a steady gaze. Her eyes met mine, but no words were exchanged.
Who is she? I thought.
And then, the third.
My heart stopped.
It was Elian.
He no longer wore the noble garments Elise had bought for the conference. Now he wore a ceremonial tunic of black and red. On his chest, a triangle with entwined roots gleamed as a mark impossible to ignore.
Yes, it was my boy. But different. He carried around him an aura of sorrow, mingled with a determination I had never seen before. His golden eyes — the same as Arthur's — found mine, and in that moment I felt all the longing he carried with him.
But there was more. Something I could not decipher.
His red hair, loose, now reached his shoulders and swayed in the wind as he stepped down from the carriage.
It was Elian.
It was my son.
And yet, he seemed like someone I still had to learn to know again.
When my eyes met his, I could not hold myself back. All the weight of the seven days I had waited for him collapsed upon me at once. I wanted to run, but my legs felt rooted to the ground. He was the one who took the first step… no, it was me. I can't even tell anymore. I only remember the moment our bodies met in an embrace that seemed to erase distance, fear, longing, and even the pain of absence.
"I'm back, Mother," he said, his voice thick, trembling as though he fought against his own tears.
"Welcome home, son…" I replied, unable to hold back my own tears. I pulled him closer, as if I could fuse him into my chest, as if in doing so I could protect him from the entire world.
The smell of his hair, the warmth of his body against mine, all of it gave me life again. It didn't matter what strange tunic he wore, nor the symbol blazing on his chest. Nothing mattered. He was my boy. The same one I had cradled in my arms, the same who gave me life back the day he was born.
"I missed you so much…" I whispered in his ear, almost voiceless.
He didn't reply right away. He only tightened the embrace, as though he too feared losing me again. In that instant, there was no order, no conference, nothing but the two of us.
And for a moment, just for a moment, the world felt less cruel.
Then I felt two little hands tugging at my clothes. I turned and saw Emanuelle, her eyes brimming with tears.
"Eli… you're back…" her voice was a broken sob, torn between joy and crying.
Elian let go of me, opening his arms for his sister, who clung to his neck as though she would never let go. I saw the two of them cry together, and it shattered and healed my heart all at once.
Anthony, more restrained, approached slowly. He didn't run, he didn't cry — but his blue eyes, the same as mine, said everything he could not put into words. Elian, noticing, extended his hand, and Anthony gripped it tightly, a simple gesture that carried all the longing of an older brother who didn't show as much as his sister did.
I wished that moment could last forever. I wanted to freeze time and keep forever the warmth of that reunion, because something inside me whispered that moments like this were fragile, rare, almost stolen from fate.
But then Elise's voice cut through the moment:
"Maria, let's go inside. We have much to discuss."