Chapter Content
The embrace with my father lingered like a shadow etched into my soul, his darkness wrapping around me not as a cage, but as a cloak of quiet strength. When we finally pulled apart, the glade seemed to exhale, the sunlight reclaiming its territory inch by inch. Shadow's eyes—those infinite voids—held mine for a beat longer, a silent vow passing between us. "Go now, Vaelthor," he murmured, his voice a velvet rumble that stirred the leaves at our feet. "The mortal world calls. But remember: the shadows are always with you."
Rayma stepped forward then, his neutral aura bridging the gap between us like a warm hearth in winter. He clapped a hand on my shoulder, then Nicholas's, his galaxy eyes twinkling with that paternal mischief. "And you two—keep those secrets close. The realms above aren't ready for the full tale of gods crashing family feuds." Nicholas snorted, rubbing his jaw where a faint bruise from the demon brawl still bloomed purple. "Yeah, yeah, Grandpa Rayma. No spilling the godly beans. Scout's honor."
With a final nod, the two primordials faded—Rayma dissolving into a swirl of starlit mist, Shadow melting into the treeline like ink in water. The air hummed with their departure, leaving Nicholas and me alone in the glade's hush. I turned to him, my chest still tight from the whirlwind of revelations. "You good, man? That was... a lot."
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