Coming back home, Seven's mind whirled with everything she had learned.
'Fae'
The word kept ringing in her head like a bell.
Thought after thought tangled inside her.
The well, the portal to Fae Town, Rukas and his strange, heavy words - it was too much to process all at once.
Seven tossed and turned in bed, her sheets a twisted mess around her. She couldn't sleep.
With a groan, she kicked off the covers, got up, and dragged out a box from the bottom of her cupboard, the one that held her grandfather's old belongings.
He used to tell her stories about Fae when she was little.
Magical, impossible stories that once painted her childhood with wonder.
After he passed away, those tales faded and later, were forgotten.
But now... maybe there was something in this box. Something she missed before.
Kneeling on the floor, she opened it carefully.
Inside, she found a few leather-bound diaries, fragile with age, and a neat stack of letters, tied together with a faded blue ribbon.
There were other things too - an old silver pocket watch that no longer ticked, a small compass with its needle spinning wildly even when still, a velvet pouch of dried herbs that smelled faintly sweet, and a brass ring shaped like two hands holding a heart.
Each item was a fragment of a man she loved and missed dearly.
Seven smiled sadly as she untied the letters. She read through them one by one, laughter bubbling up here and there.
They were love letters - sweet, stubborn, and hopelessly romantic.
Every time her grandmother got mad at her grandfather, he wrote to her, weaving his apologies with jokes and little poems, trying to charm his way back into her heart.
Seven could almost hear his voice in her ear, laughing softly, stubborn as ever.
But then... her hands brushed against an envelope, unmarked and alone.
No name. No date. No address, nothing.
Frowning, she opened it carefully, and an old photograph slipped out.
It was a photo of a couple, smiling together. The woman's features, her smile, her eyes - they were all familiar. As if her own reflection.
And beside her, holding her close, was a man.
Seven could see the warmth in his eyes as he looked at his wife.
Seven's hands trembled.
Who were they, the woman who looked exactly like her?
Desperately, she tore through the box, flipping through every diary, every page, searching every pocket and folded crease of the letters - but found nothing more.
Earlier, she was only confused about Rukas being from another world.
But now?
Now it felt like her whole existence was crumbling.
The woman in the photograph.
Seven sat there on the floor, clutching the photograph, the house silent around her except for the sound of her own breathing.
One thing was clear:
She couldn't pretend anymore.
She needed to know why her mother never spoke about her father.
And who this couple was in the photograph.
And why the fae approached her, why her?
Seven wiped her face with the back of her hand, still clutching the photograph in her other hand.
Her heart thudded like a warning drum in her chest, but her mind was already made up. She needed the answers for all the questions, questions that keep on haunting her thoughts.
And the only person who could give all the answers was her mother.
Without a second thought, she went downstairs. Her bare feet made no sound against the old wood.
She hesitated at her mother's door for half a heartbeat before knocking - once, twice.
The door opened immediately and her mother - Lira, stood there, fully awake.
Slowly, she moved aside, and Seven stepped inside.
"What happened?" her mother asked.
In response, Seven handed her the photograph she had just found.
Lira froze, staring at it.
For a long moment, she said nothing, a single tear rolled down her cheek.
When she finally spoke, her voice was barely a whisper.
"Where did you find this?"
"In Grandfather's belongings," Seven answered, short and straight.