Scene 1: Welcome Home, Garth
Snowflakes danced like scattered feathers from the heavens as the crew huddled near the JFK arrivals gate, a makeshift banner reading "Welcome Back, Garth!" flapping awkwardly in the breeze. Katherine stood beside Jeremiah, bundled in her maroon coat, her hand gently entwined with his. Lyra adjusted the fuzzy Santa hat on Leo's head while Jax nervously twitched beside the banner, glancing around for the familiar face.
"He's late," Jax muttered. "Classic Garth."
As if summoned by complaint, the sliding doors whooshed open—and there he was. Garth stepped through, a wide grin stretched across his rugged face, a duffle bag slung over his shoulder, and beside him, holding his hand, a woman.
"Garth!" everyone shouted, surging forward.
Garth opened his arms and was nearly knocked over by Jax's bear hug. The rest of the team swarmed, each greeting him with warmth and excitement.
The woman beside him blushed but stood with polite confidence. "Hey, everyone. I'm Kimberly."
Kimberly was simple, elegant—no meta-flare, no glowing eyes, no aura of power. Just a human, with soft brown hair in a loose ponytail and eyes that shimmered with kindness.
Katherine raised a brow. "Garth?"
"Yeah, surprise!" he said sheepishly. "We're engaged. I proposed last week."
A pause, and then the group exploded in cheers.
Over lunch, the story came out. Garth had known Kimberly since childhood—neighbors in small-town Oregon. They played by creeks, fought over toys, and eventually drifted as life and his Guild duties took him away. When he was reassigned overseas, they reconnected by chance at a hospital where Kimberly volunteered.
"She doesn't have powers," Garth said over dessert, watching Kimberly laugh with Lyra and Leo. "But she's strong in all the ways that count."
Jeremiah clapped him on the back. "You deserve this. After everything, man… I'm really happy for you."
Katherine nodded. "Welcome home. Both of you."
---
Scene 2: Old Flames and New Wounds
The evening turned festive as the Guild hosted a holiday dinner. Long tables were filled with roast meats, spicy cider, pastries, and ornaments that sparkled with magical enchantments. Cecelia helped arrange the plates, her heart nervously pounding. She hadn't seen him—not in person—since she returned.
As she adjusted a holly centerpiece, the door opened.
"Sorry I'm late," said Caleb, stepping in.
Her world stopped.
He hadn't changed much—taller now, broader shoulders, with his signature smirk slightly dimmed by maturity. He wore a sleek navy coat and snow-damp boots. Cecelia's eyes welled up. She stood, breath hitching.
"Caleb?" she said, and before she could think, she ran.
The room hushed.
She threw her arms around him. "I missed you so much…"
Caleb stood stunned but slowly returned the embrace.
"It's been years, Cee…" he said.
Katherine leaned to Jeremiah. "Let's give them some space to catch up"
Jeremiah retorted" AI high caps let's go get some fresh air ". And they stood up and left.
Cecelia pulled away, wiping tears. "I never got to say goodbye when I left for Australia. My family's business… everything happened so fast."
"I know," Caleb said softly.
That night, after the laughter and stories, they stood on the rooftop under the moon.
"You… haven't changed," Cecelia said.
"You have. In a good way," Caleb replied.
She took a breath. "I loved you, Caleb. Since we were twelve. You probably never noticed, but… I did. I still do."
Caleb's eyes flickered.
"I'm sorry, Cee. I care about you deeply, but… I love someone else."
"Who?" she asked, voice breaking.
He didn't answer.
He walked away, snow crunching beneath his boots, leaving her breathless.
---
Scene 3: Unrequited Hearts
Inside, the celebration carried on. Music played softly, and the smell of cinnamon and roasted turkey filled the air. Katherine and Jeremiah sat close, sharing bites of gingerbread and jokes.
Caleb stood by the far corner, watching them. Watching her. His fists clenched.
Every time she smiled at Jeremiah, every time he whispered something that made her laugh—it pierced him.
Cecelia approached quietly. "It's her, isn't it?"
Caleb didn't look at her.
"Katherine. You love her."
He gave a bitter laugh. "Yeah. I didn't expect to. Didn't want to. But it just… happened."
"She's happy with Jeremiah," Cecelia said. "Don't hurt yourself over it."
"I don't want to hurt anyone," he muttered. "But I can't keep this inside."
A few minutes later, he pulled Jeremiah aside.
"Can we talk?"
"Sure."
They went into the training hall.
"I love her," Caleb said bluntly. "I've tried not to. I respect you. But I can't lie to myself anymore."
Jeremiah blinked. "Katherine?"
Caleb nodded.
Jeremiah laughed once, humorless. "So that's why you came back?"
"No. But it's why I'm telling you now."
Jeremiah stepped forward. "I don't care what you feel. She's with me. She chose me. You don't get to walk in and—"
Caleb pushed him.
Jeremiah shoved back.
A scuffle turned to a punch.
Katherine ran in, shouting. "Stop it!"
They didn't.
As Caleb swung, Jeremiah ducked—but Katherine stepped between them.
A fist caught her temple.
She collapsed.
Everyone froze.
Blood stained the floor.
---
Scene 4: Healing and Hope
Katherine awoke to the rhythmic beeping of monitors and the sterile white of the infirmary. Jeremiah sat beside her, head bowed.
Her fingers brushed his.
"Hey," she whispered.
He jerked up. "Kat—oh God, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to—"
"I know. It wasn't you."
She looked past him. Caleb stood by the door.
"I never wanted to hurt you," he said.
"You did," she replied calmly. "But I'll heal."
The tension was thick.
"Both of you," she said. "This ends now. No more fighting over me. If you love me, then respect my choices. I choose peace."
Jeremiah nodded slowly. "I'll never raise a hand again."
Caleb swallowed hard. "I'll leave. If that's what you want."
Katherine shook her head. "Stay. Just… let's be honest, and let's move forward."
Later that evening, Cecelia found Caleb by the training room.
"You okay?"
He chuckled bitterly. "Not really. But I will be."
She touched his hand. "I meant what I said. I loved you. I still do. But I'll wait. I won't push you."
He looked at her.
"You don't have to wait," he said. "Maybe… I should stop chasing ghosts and start seeing what's right in front of me."
Cecelia's eyes filled with hope.
Snow fell outside. Christmas lights flickered.
And in the warm hush of the Guild's halls, hearts—broken and mended—began to beat in harmony again..