Luke lay on the plush couch, his head resting on his folded arms as a pillow. His eyes stayed fixed on the floating orbs above him, their soft glow painting shifting colors across the room. With every snap of his fingers, the lights flickered — green, blue, gold.
"Chast," he murmured under his breath.
"So dangerous. So powerful." Another snap — the orbs turned yellow.
"What happened to him?" he whispered, frustration edging his tone. "That wasn't like him."
He groaned, dragging his hands down his face. It had been hours — maybe days, he'd lost count — and he still couldn't stop thinking about Chast. The thoughts looped endlessly, every memory blurring together until all that was left was worry.
"I just hope he's okay," he sighed, snapping his fingers again. The orbs flared crimson, the color of unease.
A sudden click startled him. The door creaked open.
"Chast?" Luke frowned, confusion flashing across his face. He shot up from the couch and rushed to the doorway.
And there he was.
"Chast!" Luke's voice broke with joy as he threw his arms around him, laughter bubbling out uncontrollably.
"Chast!" he called again, hugging him tighter. The weight in his chest dissolved the moment he felt Chast's warmth — solid, real, alive.
Caught off guard, Chast stumbled, and they both tumbled onto the floor, still laughing.
Luke's body loosened, everything was right again.
"You're so heavy!" Chast complained, pushing Luke away from him. But Luke was stern, he tightened his hands around Chast.
"No! I need to make sure this was you!" Luke said, chuckling.
"It's me! I'm fine, Luke." Chast said, flashing a reassuring smile. "Get off!" He commanded, patting Luke's back.
Luke sighed in relief then jumped off from Chast. They both got up, laughing.
"You fucking scared the hell out of me, dude!" Luke jabbed at Chast's arm.
"Damn," Chast winced, rubbing his arm.
"Where's Mom?" Chast asked, his gaze roaming around the room. His brows furrowed when he didn't find her.
"Sleeping," Luke replied simply, nodding toward Chast's room.
Chast gave a faint nod. After everything he'd witnessed, he'd been yearning for his mother's embrace.
He walked straight to his room and found her there — peacefully asleep, safe and unharmed.
Chast's knees gave out, and he slumped onto the floor. "Mom," he whispered, the word breaking in his throat. Tears spilled down his cheeks before he could stop them.
The images from earlier flashed back — pain, chaos, fear — and it all struck his heart again with unbearable weight.
"Mom," he cried, voice trembling. Crawling closer, he wrapped his arms around her and sobbed. He had been aching to do this — to hold her, to feel she was truly alive. His chest tightened with every breath. She's safe... she's here...
"Chast?" Leanne stirred, her voice groggy. She blinked awake, frowning softly as she saw her son crying beside her.
She sat up and gathered him into her arms. "What's wrong, Chast Vaughn?" she asked gently.
He didn't answer. The only sound in the room was his sobs — aching, unrestrained, echoing against the walls.
From the living room, Luke heard it. The orbs above him flickered violently; the bookshelves rattled as vines crept out from their carvings, glowing faintly in response to Chast's emotions.
Luke's heart raced. He ran to the room and froze at the sight — Chast crying in his mother's arms, magic trembling in the air.
Leanne looked up, meeting Luke's eyes. She said nothing, but the fear and question in her gaze were clear: What's happening to him?
Luke forced a small, reassuring smile and shrugged faintly, as if to say let him be.
Neither of them spoke. They just stayed — Leanne holding her son, Luke sitting quietly beside them.
To Luke, it was the first time he'd seen Chast so completely undone by emotion.
To Leanne, it was the second. She'd seen him like this once before — the night his heart shattered for the first time. His first heart break.
And for the first time, Chast's emotions were under control. They didn't devour him. His power no longer flared or lashed out — instead, it pulsed in harmony with his heart. For once, Chast and his magic moved as one.
For a long moment, the tears simply stopped. The storm inside him quieted, and the pieces of his shattered heart finally fit back together.
Chast let out a shaky laugh, still sniffling as he wiped his wet cheeks. "Damn... what's wrong with my eyes? They've been crying since morning," he joked between his sob.
Luke didn't find it funny, not really — but he laughed anyway, the sound soft and genuine.
As the night came, Ronnie came back from his class along with the elves carrying their dinner.
"Food... food... delivery!" Nottie announced excitedly, his waving his small hands as he spotted Chast sitting on the couch.
"Chosen!" Tottie and Wottie called, sprinting across the room with surprising speed.
"Eat! Food! Eat!" Nottie beamed, grinning from ear to ear as he waved the bag right in front of Chast's face.
"Sad, Chosen?" Tottie asked worriedly, noticing Chast's swollen eyes.
Chast chuckled softly and shook his head. "No," he said simply.
"Finally! I can eat!" Ronnie groaned, flopping onto the couch beside him. "Training was hell!" he complained dramatically, leaning on the couch.
"How's your training?" Chast asked awkwardly. They hadn't really talked much since he found out about Ronnie's secret, and the tension still lingered.
"It was torture! I hate it!" Ronnie complained again, stomping his feet like a child, his lips forming an exaggerated pout.
Luke cackled. "Same!" he agreed, rolling his eyes. "I just want to end this training already!"
"Are we almost there yet?" Chast asked, blinking in disbelief.
Before Luke could answer, the three elves scrambled up onto the couch, climbing all over Chast until they settled comfortably on his lap.
Chast groaned. "You guys are heavy!" he complained — but they ignored him completely.
"Almost?" Luke repeated, snapping his head toward Chast, utterly baffled.
"What? Did I say something wrong?" Chast asked innocently.
Ronnie burst out laughing. "This is just the beginning! We're far from almost."
Chast's eyes widened in horror. "What!? After all that?!" His shoulders slumped in defeat. "After everything I've been through... that was just the beginning?"
Luke and the others erupted in laughter. The room filled with warmth and cheer again — light-hearted and loud, like old times.
As their laughter faded, they gathered around the table where the elves had already set the food. The aroma of warm bread, sweet glaze, and spiced stew filled the air.
They ate quietly, savoring every bite, the sound of clinking utensils blending with the soft hum of the orbs overhead.
Then, breaking the peace, Chast looked up and asked, "Mom... how did you and Dad meet?"
Luke almost dropped his fork, while Ronnie choked on his drink. Tottie quickly handed him a glass of water, patting his back.
All eyes turned toward Leanne. The room went still.
Leanne froze. She forced a smile — faint and fleeting — before it disappeared.
"I..." she began softly, her voice trembling.
Her hand drifted to her hair, tugging gently as if searching for something buried deep. Then she closed her eyes. "I don't... I don't remember," she whispered.
The air shifted. The laughter from earlier was gone, replaced by the quiet thrum of confusion and pain.
"It's okay, Mom." He reached across the table and took her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You don't have to remember anything."
He smiled and leaned in to hug her, holding her tightly as if to shield her from her own sorrow.
Ronnie pressed his lips together, trying to hide his relieve.
Meanwhile, Luke sat back in silence, forcing a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. He had hoped for a story — something to tell his aunt — but all he got was a mystery that deepened the shadows in his mind.
"No... I need to remember it. I need to fill the missing pieces of my memories." Leanne shook her head, still tugging her hair.
Luke's chest ached sharp and sudden, as if a thousand needles pricked straight through his heart. A strange pull gripped him. Cold shivers ran down his spine, his hands trembling as an invisible force pushed him forward... toward Leanne.
Before he could even think, his body moved on its own. In a blink, he was already sitting beside her — arms wrapping around her in an involuntary embrace.
Leanne stiffened, eyes flickering as her body trembled under his touch.
Chast was stunned. His eyes widened, confusion flashing into realization. He didn't understand what was happening — but he felt it. Leanne was Luke's aunt, after all... and something deeper was binding them in that moment.
Then Leanne screamed.
A raw, piercing sound tore through the room. Her hands clutched her chest as her heart pounded violently — so hard it seemed ready to burst.
"Mom!" Chast cried, panic flooding his voice as he dropped to his knees before her. "Mom, what's wrong?!" His voice cracked, trembling.
Leanne didn't answer. She just kept screaming.
The elves huddled together, terrified — their little bodies shaking as they clung to one another.
Ronnie stood frozen, eyes wide, mouth parted, his mind blank with fear.
"Leanne," Luke whispered, his voice low, calm.
Leanne's gaze found him. For a brief moment, her expression softened. Her trembling hand rose, cupping his face. Her touch was weak but tender, her thumb brushing against his cheek.
Her tears fell. "Son," she breathed.
And before anyone could react — her eyes fluttered closed as she lost her consciousness and fell on Luke's arms.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
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