The night in Arvalen was a living tapestry of dancing lights and sweet fragrances. The streets stretched like silver veins under the full moon, and the air was perfud with forest spices, enchanted flowers, and the subtle scent of newly awakened magic. Elion and Kael walked side by side, their steps calm, like two unhurried travelers, absorbing the world around them as if savoring a forbidden fruit.
Elion's scarlet cloak trailed like a living fla across the ancient stones, and her laughter—clear and disarming—echoed through the alleys, confusing the gazes of those who saw them. Kael, dressed in simple but well-cut tunics, looked like a young lord newly arrived at court. Many watched them with curiosity, whispering among themselves. "A couple of nobles from outside?" so murmured. "He's too young... or is she too young?" others wondered.
Elion just smiled, aware of every thought, every whisper. She loved the confusion she caused.
"Did you notice?" she asked with a wink, "We're causing scandals just by being here."
Kael sighed, smiling slightly. "It's not like you care about that."
"Of course not. It's delightful." She slipped her arm through his and pulled him gently. "Now co on. I want to live this night as if the world weren't falling apart outside."
They turned a corner and were surprised by an explosion of color and sound.
There, among the living trees that lined Arvalen, a festival had awakened like a spontaneous dream. Enchanted silk banners floated in the air, changing color according to the mood of passersby. Stalls covered in enchanted leaves sold everything: singing sweets, drinks that floated in bubbles, masks that laughed on their own. Music echoed from instrunts without musicians, dancing between the sound of laughter and light magic.
"Ahhh, a festival!" exclaid Elion, her golden eyes sparkling like a child's in front of the sea. "Why don't you ever bring to these things, Kael?"
"Because we're usually busy trying to prevent wars."
"Pff. Always an excuse. Co on!"
She pulled him into the crowd with such effusive energy that Kael forgot for a mont the weight of the world on his shoulders. There, under those magical lights, he was just a boy with an impulsive and glorious mother.
The first tent they ca across featured a ga of floating targets. Luminous balls danced in the air, dodging and zigzagging like nervous fireflies. The goal was to hit them with enchanted darts before they disappeared.
" first!" announced Elion, already grabbing a dart.
Kael raised his eyebrows. "You're going to cheat, aren't you?"
She threw the first dart with supernatural accuracy, piercing the fastest target. "It's not cheating if you're just too good."
"That's exactly what a cheater would say."
Laughing, Kael picked up a dart and tried his luck. He missed the first one, but hit the second with an unexpected twist of his hand. The crowd applauded quietly, and the booth attendant—a gno with a pointed hat and sparkling eyes—handed Elion a small dragon-shaped brooch as a prize.
"Nice. I'll use it to scare the hill queen who keeps imitating ," Elion said proudly.
They moved on to another tent, where enchanted fish swam inside spheres of water suspended in the air. The ga was to "fish" the fish without popping the magic bubble—which required precision, delicacy, and a touch of gentle magic.
"That seems impossible," Kael muttered, concentrating.
"Only if you're not funny," Elion replied, smiling defiantly.
She reached out her hand like a dancer — fingers curved, palm open — and one of the fish swam toward her as if hypnotized. With a subtle snap, she caught it effortlessly, leaving the bubble intact.
Kael snorted. "You're a problem, you know that?"
"And you're my son. You have to inherit this."
He tried his turn and, surprisingly, succeeded. Not with such elegance, but with a precision that the fish respected. They won two bracelets of living leaves, which wrapped around their wrists, murmuring little elven songs.
Between one tent and another, Elion bought sweets that crackled like sparks in his mouth and drinks that stained his tongue blue and purple. They danced with invisible fairies among the lanterns, laughed until their sides hurt, and at so point—without even realizing it—ti seed to stand still.
"You know this won't last," Kael said as they sat on the edge of a fountain where water flowed upward.
"That's precisely why it's precious," Elion replied, her smile now more serene. "Today is ours alone. Tomorrow... well, tomorrow can wait."
Kael watched her for a mont, in the moonlight reflected in her hair. For an instant, she wasn't the sorceress who terrified armies. She was just his mother. Vibrant, free, and full of a love impossible to ta.
"Thank you for this," he said quietly.
"Shhh," she replied, resting her head on his shoulder. "Don't thank . Enjoy it. This is rare. Like an eclipse of joy."
...
Arvalen's bar had an unpronounceable na, written in an ancient alphabet that glowed in purple neon above the entrance. The notes of a low song, laden with enchanted strings and rhythmic beats, escaped through the cracks in the door like sonic serpents. Elion glanced at the sign with a satisfied expression, like soone rediscovering a place where chaos is served in large glasses.
"Let's go in, my dear Kael," she said, pulling back her hood and revealing her flaming hair, which glowed in the dim light as if preparing for a show.
As soon as they opened the door, the interior of the bar froze.
All conversation ceased—the music continued, but human and non-human voices fell silent as if a silent spell had spread through the room. Glances were shot like arrows, most landing on Elion. Others, more cautious, examined Kael with curiosity and fear. But it was the figure of the Legendary Witch that had the most striking effect.
These were glances laden with lust, idolatry, and fear. Beings of all races—decadent elves, renegade wizards, bored demons, trouble-seeking fairies—turned their heads slowly, so with glasses halfway to their mouths, others frowning as if they couldn't believe what they were seeing.
Elion let out a long theatrical sigh. "Ah, these places never change."
But before the discomfort beca palpable, a deep, sharp voice cut through the air:
"Look at her again and I'll kill you all."
The spell was broken.
Imdiately, heads turned in unison, like soldiers obeying a battle cry. The music seed to co alive again. Glasses returned to lips. Fake smiles reappeared. The atmosphere returned to its usual magical chaos — as if Elion were just another ghost from the past that everyone preferred to forget for fear of waking him up.
Elion laughed. A light, sincere laugh, almost charming.
"She's still the sa," he murmured.
Kael, confused, raised an eyebrow. "Who?"
Before he could finish his question, Elion pulled him by the hand with a gentleness that contrasted with the explosive energy that surrounded her. They crossed the bar to the counter, where the person responsible for the warning waited, arms crossed, expression stony.
The bartender.
She was tall, with skin as dark and deep as old wood. Her eyes had the amber glow of forgotten magic, and her hair was tied in thick braids intertwined with strands of enchanted silver. There were scars on her neck and a necklace of tiny bones—probably from creatures that should not have existed. Nothing about her was simple, and Kael felt it imdiately.
Elion stood before her like a child returning ho after getting into sothing too big.
The bartender did not smile.
"What is a legendary witch doing in Arvalen?" she asked, her voice low as distant thunder.
Elion shrugged, resting her elbow on the counter. "Just enjoying a mont with him."
The bartender tilted her head, finally noticing Kael. Her eyes studied him carefully—every feature, every sign of power, of restrained youth, of sothing forced to mature too soon.
She raised an eyebrow and turned to Elion with a dry expression. "You're dating, huh?"
Kael choked on his own breath. "What?!"
Elion laughed, and even the crystals attached to the chandeliers seed to vibrate with the sound. "He's my son."
The bartender blinked.
"Son???"
Elion nodded, now more serious. "From my womb and my misfortune. Raised by magic, accelerated by necessity."
The bartender's eyes widened for a second—long enough for soone like Kael to notice that she wasn't easily surprised. She then let out a grunt, pouring herself a drink without even looking.
"By the Void... you had a son. The world really is in its final days."
Kael crossed his arms, suspicious. "And who is this?"
Elion turned slowly to Kael, her golden eyes sparkling with that typical mixture of amusent and warning.
"This," she said, pointing to the bartender, "is Raven. An ancient witch my mother sent away after I disappeared for a few thousand years."
Kael frowned, trying to fit that description to the cold, distant face in front of him.
Raven didn't seem bothered by the attention. She rested her elbows on the counter and stared at Kael with a gaze that seed capable of unraveling his innermost layers, as if weighing the risk and value of what the boy carried within him.
"Now that I see... eleven years," she murmured, her voice so low it was almost lost in the murmur of the music. "How cute."
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