Kael took one last deep breath, as if he were about to plunge into an icy lake—the kind of jump you take knowing it will hurt, but it's even worse to just stand there staring at the water. He turned to Sylphie, Amelia, and Irelia, offering them a tired, crooked smile.

"I'm going to disappear for a few days."

Sylphie opened her mouth—perhaps to scold, perhaps to plead—but decided to swallow her words. She just nodded slowly, her eyes gleaming with that irritating mixture of worry and approval. Irelia crossed her arms with an expression that said "don't do anything stupid," even though she knew he was going to do exactly that. Amelia gave a trembling wave, as if trying to offer support but also grieving in advance.

Kael raised his hand in a gesture that was half theatrical, half genuine farewell.

"I'll be back in one piece. Or… something close to it."

"Kael," Sylphie called, firmly—and it's always her firmness that pierces. "Come back alive."

He blinked, surprised by her direct tone. Then he smiled.

"That's the plan."

With that, he turned and crossed the hall, his travel cloak fluttering behind him like a stubborn shadow. The castle was a labyrinth of long corridors and stone arches that echoed every step, as if he were leaving behind an entire life to face another.

He passed guards who bowed, servants who instinctively moved away—possibly knowing exactly who he was going to speak to. No one would stand in the way of a man about to face Elion. Not even by accident.

The portal was at the far end of a circular hall made of black marble. Runes carved into the floor glowed in a soft violet hue, pulsing like an ancient heart. In the center, a structure of obsidian arches coiled like petrified roots, supporting a ring of liquid light.

Kael stopped right before it.

The energy moved slowly, as if breathing.

"Home," he murmured.

And just saying that, the portal reacted. The glow grew denser, deeper—as if recognizing destiny and, perhaps, also recognizing the divine wrath Kael was about to walk toward.

Before crossing, his mind raced to the inevitable question:

Where, exactly, was Elion?

Ah, that was a treacherous question.

His mother, the Witch of Chaos, wasn't someone you simply found by going after her. She wasn't a character fixed on a map, nor a figure you could track with magic. Elion was a phenomenon. A force of nature with an unstable temperament. Trying to find her was like trying to capture the wind—or worse, trying to trap it in a jar and hoping it wouldn't explode in your face in retaliation.

But there was a detail.

A detail only a child knows.

Elion was a free spirit… yes. But when she was quiet, when she was thoughtful, when she needed to organize her thoughts—or when she felt emotionally pressured by her own decisions and her own existence—she always escaped to the same place.

The house.

Not a castle. Not a tower. Not a mystical sanctuary.

The house.

That small, beautiful cabin in the middle of the Arcane Forest that she herself had created from scratch—shaped from the energy of chaos, the spirit of nature, and an impulsive whim that lasted an entire afternoon. A forest that only obeyed her. And, strangely, also obeyed Kael… but in a more protective, almost maternal way.

It was in that forest that Kael took his first steps. That he fell from trees. He who chased after living lights. He who was beaten by sentient plants when he meddled with what he shouldn't have. It was there that he trained with Eleanor in the intervals between their travels and their lives. It was there that he discovered that magic had a smell and a taste. It was there that he learned to be… himself.

If there was one place where Elion would be, it would be there.

And that made everything worse.

Because delivering terrible news to someone who is quietly at home… it can't end well.

Kael let out a long sigh.

"Yes, Mother. Let's go."

He took a step forward.

The energy pulled him, soft as water, yet dense as a veil. A cold sensation ran through his skin, followed by a comforting warmth in his chest. Crossing this portal was different from all the others—because this portal had a personality. It sensed who passed through. It judged. It embraced.

And, as always, it recognized Kael.

In an instant, the castle disappeared behind him.

In another, he felt the dense magic of the Arcane Forest surrounding him—almost like an ancient, familiar, delicious scent. The scent of eternal leaves. The scent of flowers that never existed anywhere else. The scent of living magic.

The forest was a sea of impossible colors: branches that glowed from within, leaves that changed hue according to the visitor's mood (in Kael's case, they were in a worrying gradient of blue), and mystical creatures scurrying among the roots, curious and wild, but harmless to him.

The portal closed behind him.

Silence.

And then, a familiar—and irritatingly affectionate—voice emerged from the trees:

"Welcome back, little chaos."

Kael closed his eyes.

The entire forest had just greeted him.

"Hi, everyone," he murmured to the trees, to the ground, to the creatures, to everything. "It's good to be here."

A rustling answered, like a hug.

He took the semi-hidden path—the one that only opened for those who were recognized. It was made of luminescent petals that sprouted beneath his feet and disappeared soon after, as if created just for him. The walk was short, but it always felt long. Because it was impossible to ignore the emotional weight of that place. A home frozen in time. A home where all that was good still lived. Where memories were trapped in the leaves, in the earth, in the scent.

And then, among the trees, he saw her.

The house.

Small, charming, with curved wood that seemed to have grown that way, as if the house had sprouted from the ground instead of being built. Rounded windows gleamed with warm light. And there were flowers climbing the walls, giant and beautiful flowers that changed color according to the magical weather.

Kael felt his heart clench.

Yes.

She was here.

He could feel her presence like a silent thunderclap—too intense to be ignored, too deep to be contained. As always.

Elion was… quiet.

And that was much, much worse than her being angry.

Kael took a deep breath, straightened his shoulders, and murmured to himself,

"Okay… let's go. Just… don't die. Preferably."

He climbed the three steps to the porch.

The wood vibrated beneath his feet, recognizing him.

He raised his hand, hesitated for a second—a mere second—and knocked on the door.

A light touch.

Polite.

Cautious.

As if it were possible to deal with Elion using caution.

The whole house seemed to hold its breath along with him.

And inside…

A soft sound.

Footsteps.

The doorknob moved.

Kael felt his stomach drop like a stone thrown into a bottomless pit.

She was coming.

The doorknob turned.

The door creaked open softly, and then—before Kael could even form a coherent thought—an explosion of pure joy burst through the doorway.

"SON!"

Elion appeared like a ray of sunshine on a stormy day: long, disheveled hair, gleaming as if brimming with living magic; bare feet covered in shimmering dust; and, of course, wearing only a haphazardly tied white apron, as if he'd abandoned a half-finished potion just to answer the door.

The apron was crooked, crumpled, stained with some lilac that was probably dangerous, and definitely didn't cover everything it should—but in the most natural, unassuming, and "I don't care" way possible. Elion simply had no idea how to present herself as a functional adult.

Or maybe she did, and just… didn't care.

As soon as she saw Kael, her eyes lit up so radiantly that the whole room seemed to bloom. And before he could say "Hi, Mom," she was already inside him.

Elion hugged him as if she wanted to crush him to dust—and that's probably exactly what she would have done if she didn't love him so much.

Kael let out a noise that sounded like an "Ughhff—!", his spine threatening to cry out for help.

"My baby!" she practically sang, twirling him around as if he were still five years old. "You're back! You're back! I felt you coming! I felt it in the whole forest! Oh, how long you took!"

Kael tried to breathe. He couldn't.

"Elion— Mom— air—"

"Ah!" She loosened her grip, but didn't let go. She would never let go. She just slid one hand to his face, squeezing his cheeks as if he were a rare work of art she had personally sculpted. "You're pale. You're thin. You're tense. Who stressed you out? Was it someone? I'll destroy them."

"Mom, no—"

"I will destroy it! Just say the name. It can be a country too, it doesn't have to be a person."

Kael closed his eyes.

Yes. That was exactly what he expected.

And exactly what he feared.

Elion analyzed him with a gleam that mixed absolute love with a sanity… hm, flexible. Very flexible. More flexible than should be allowed by natural law.

She held his face between her hands.

"Look at you! So beautiful! So big! So… so MINE!"

Kael's eyes widened.

"Uh… Mom…?"

She narrowed her eyes, like a predator protecting her cub.

"Nobody hurt you, did they? Nobody put ideas in your head? Nobody drove you away from me?"

Kael raised his hands, sweating.

"No! No! None of that! I just came… to talk!"

Elion blinked.

Then blinked again.

And the change was sudden—but gentle.

A sweet, genuine smile spread across her face. The kind of smile that lit up everything, that warmed even the darkest corners of the forest.

"Talk?" she repeated, her voice melting with affection. "With me?"

Kael swallowed hard.

"…Yes."

She gripped his hand tightly.

"Then come in. I'll make tea. Or cookies. Or whatever you want…"

'Shit… I don't know if I'm ready if she wants to have sex again… because she's even more beautiful?' "Damn it!"

"Hey. Stop having perverted thoughts."

"Huh? Me?"

"I know what you're thinking. But if you want… Mom's here for everything…"