Two years of holding on, of pretending to believe the vows I took to myself,"He's strong, he'll come back" With every night passing, wondering if the boy was but another forgotten name on some battlefield. The battlefield steals without taking.
I crouched in the window of the fortress mess hall, my hands wrapped around a cold tea mug for hours. Wind howled outside, and the scent of metal and burned earth on the wall came through. And then, all unannounced, the air tore apart.
A jagged oval of light ripped open right in the center of the square. Not the slow gleam of an opened gate under control, but the sharp, hungry twist of a private gateway. My heart constricted, my pulse faltered,no, not possible—
And then he moved through.
Lucifer, my grandson.
He was taller, older, but not in years. No, in the way of battles fought. His eyes retained that same warmth of embers they had when he first placed his feet upon the path of the Initiate, though now they burned more steadily, hotter. His equipment was travel-worn, the edges frayed, and his aura. God, his aura was thick. Disciplined. Too disciplined for a boy his age.
"Grandma," he informed me matter-of-factly, and that was all the devastation my willpower required. I marched across the square before I even realized my feet had taken me there, holding him in a hug that needed never, ever to end.
"Two years," I growled into his shoulder. "Two years with not one word, and you just appear out of nowhere like you'd only been gone a week."
He smiled faintly, "I had to make sure I could return stronger."
We went inside to have lunch. plain bread, stew, and a slice of that tart fruit he used to pilfer from the kitchens. The warmth of the food dispelled the stillness between us. Finally, he spoke, "Grandma… I'm going to compete in the Haven ."
I paused, chewing. "You're referring to that Haven Cluster?"
He nodded. "I'll take the portal and go myself. But I might. help the guild here, and maybe the academy too, while I'm at it."
I stared at him seriously. "If you want to come in through our stronghold's proper channel, I can have it organized. Or the academy can sponsor you, it will be safer."
"No," he said, voice steady but calm. "This is my way. I can't have too many strings."
That was when I realized that he wasn't just stronger. He was carrying something. A burden.
However, there were protocols. Commander Drevan, our castle commander and S-Ranker who'd commanded our defense for over two decades, had to be informed. Drevan was a man who could read a person's pulse in seconds, and I dreaded what he would see in Lucifer.
---
The meeting was brief, yet enlightening.
Drevan looked at him, then, out of the blue, drew his sword. "Show me what you have learned."
Lucifer did not summon one undead. He simply moved. A step aside, a twirled strike; smooth, unelapsed, and point-blank. Drevan, the man who'd parried more than a hundred A-Rankers during his prime, had to deflect. Metal rang on the training grounds, a staccato rhythm.
When it was complete, Drevan's expression had changed. Not awe exactly, but sharp respect. "So, you can solo with an A-Ranker? Without summons?" He stowed his sword. "Kid, if the wrong eyes hear about your real age, you'll be dead before you can blink. Keep your strength quiet. Keep your growth a secret. Or you won't live out the Cluster."
I caught Lucifer's quick smile; affirmative, but not arrogant. "I've weathered worse chances."
And maybe he had. But as I followed him away from the yard, I knew what was true: worse chances could still be waiting. And I wasn't ready to lose him again.