The laboratory was cloaked in silence but for the faint hiss of mana burners and the soft clinking of glass against glass. Outside its heavy doors, Governor Kael Varros stalked the corridor like a caged predator, cloak trailing as he turned and retraced his steps again and again. His hands, calloused from a lifetime of sword and seal, flexed restlessly at his sides.
Every beat of his heart was a hammer against his ribs. His wife was wasting away with each passing breath, and all his power, all his dominion over Nexus, had meant nothing against that creeping shadow.
Inside, Jade stood upon the alchemy dais, dwarfed by the tall counters and towering shelves. His hair tied in a loose ponytail behind his head—courtesy of Lio, as he leaned over the cauldron, eyes fixed, as he tracked the potion's delicate reactions. His movements were measured, steady—never rushed, never faltering.
Lio, barely taller than the lab table, stood back with his hands clasped behind him. The ten-year-old's brow was furrowed, lips parted slightly as he watched. He didn't speak, didn't dare interrupt. It was enough just to witness—like standing at the edge of some star-born mystery, a boy only three years older watching a younger one wield mastery like a sage.
"Two breaths more…" Jade whispered, voice calm. He adjusted the mana flame, shifted one vial, then sprinkled a pinch of powdered stardust. The potion pulsed with light, shifting from dull green to a luminous silver-blue that mirrored his hair. The glow spread in ripples, as though the liquid itself exhaled.
Lio's chest tightened in excitement. 'He's… really good.'
When the light steadied, Jade's small hand reached for the ladle. With practiced grace, he poured the potion into a crystalline vial, stoppered it, and held it up. The liquid shimmered, alive with condensed mana. His gaze didn't waver.
Outside, Kael stopped pacing as the door opened. The boy stepped out, the vial cradled in both hands.
Kael's voice broke the silence like a blade. "Is it done?"
Jade met his eyes, unflinching. "It is. The cure will hold."
For a breath, Kael could only stare. The aura of command he wore like second skin cracked at the edges, and raw relief swept across his face. He exhaled shakily, one hand brushing over his mouth as if to steady himself.
"…Show me," he said, quieter now.
....
They entered the governor's chambers together.
Kael's wife sat propped against silk pillows, her complexion pale as frost, breaths shallow. Even her aura, once radiant, flickered faintly like a candle in wind. She tried to lift her gaze as they entered, but fatigue dragged at her eyelids.
Kael moved to her side instantly, kneeling, supporting her with an arm around her shoulders. For all his dominance, for all his storm-forged power, here he was simply a husband desperate not to lose the woman he loved.
Jade approached with the vial, his steps soundless on the marble floor. His voice, though young, carried the assurance of one who knew the weight of life and death.
"Hold her steady," Jade instructed.
Kael obeyed without hesitation, angling his wife against his chest, lifting her enough for the potion to be given. Jade uncorked the vial, and the chamber filled with the faint scent of star-mint and mana blossoms. Carefully, he touched the vial to her lips.
The woman stirred faintly, swallowing with effort as the liquid touched her tongue. The potion shimmered as it passed her lips, threads of light trailing down her throat and sinking into her core.
Her body trembled. A soft gasp left her mouth, color blooming faintly across her cheeks for the first time in months. Then... Her breath steadied, deeper, fuller, each inhale stronger than the last.
Kael's eyes widened, his arms tightening around her as though afraid she might vanish. His jaw clenched, his aura thrummed uncontrolled for a moment, flooding the chamber with raw emotion.
Jade withdrew the vial, watching with clinical precision as the cure took hold. After a long silence, he nodded once. "Her vitality is returning. She will need rest, but the decay has been halted. She will recover."
Kael lowered his forehead to his wife's temple, eyes closing. For a moment, the storm of a governor, the terror of Nexus, was simply a man overcome by relief.
When he looked up again, his gaze fell on Jade. And in that gaze was something no guild, no council, no schemer could deny: reverence.
For a long moment, words failed him—this was a man who had negotiated with generals, quelled riots, and ruled a city of millions. Yet now, before a boy who didn't even reach his waist, his voice trembled.
"Thank you," he whispered, then again louder, stronger, as though the words could never be enough. "Thank you, Jade. Really,... Thank you so much. You've returned her to me." His breath hitched, raw, unpolished. His composure fractured; the unshakable Dominant Alpha was gone, replaced by a husband clinging to the miracle laid before him. "I owe you a debt I can never repay. If you ask of me the stars themselves, I would tear them from the sky."
The weight of his gratitude filled the room like a storm about to break. Kael bowed his head—not in a gesture of formality, but in something rarer, stripped of pride. Humility. Reverence.
Jade, standing by the foot of the bed, regarded him quietly. His expression remained calm, almost detached, but he let Kael speak, let the emotions pour free, and only when the governor seemed ready to collapse into his own words did Jade move.
"There's no need for this," he said softly, his tone clear, level, carrying a weight of certainty far beyond his years. "I did only what was required. Nothing more." He inclined his head, a gesture that was neither humble nor arrogant—merely final. "Selene will be fine. By morning she should have regained enough strength to speak with you. Until then… stay with her. She'll need you more than anyone else."
Kael's throat worked as though he wanted to protest, to insist he stayed just in case, but Jade had already turned. He didn't ask for reward, didn't linger to bask in the governor's gratitude. He excused himself with the same simple grace he had entered with, footsteps quiet against the polished floor as he left the room.
Kael remained, hands tightening around his wife's fragile fingers, staring after the boy who had just rewritten fate.
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The corridors of the estate were hushed when Jade returned. Lio was waiting for him, bouncing on his toes the moment he spotted him. The boy's eyes glittered with excitement, his small fists clenching and unclenching as though he was barely containing himself. He didn't even wait for Jade to reach their chamber before blurting out:
"You did it, right? You really saved her!"
Jade shot him a look—a quiet, steady look—and Lio immediately snapped his mouth shut, biting back the urge to rattle off a dozen questions. Instead, he followed close behind as Jade opened the door to their chamber. Inside, Niamh and Amara rose from where they had been sitting, their anxious faces lifting in expectation.
"She's safe," Jade said simply, brushing past them with the composure of someone reporting on the weather. "By morning, she'll be well enough to wake."
The relief that swept through the room was immediate. Amara's shoulders sagged, her hands flying to her chest as though she'd been holding her breath all this time. Niamh closed her eyes, exhaling slowly, as though the tension in her bones had finally loosened.
But Lio—Lio could not stay still. He threw himself into the center of the chamber, arms flailing as he reenacted the scene none of them had witnessed.
"You should have seen it!" he exclaimed, his face flushed with excitement. "Jade didn't even flinch—he just walked right in, mixed all these weird things together like he was born to do it, and then—then he put it all together like some master magician and—bam! Saved her! Just like that!" He puffed up his chest, voice climbing higher with every word. "The governor was so shocked, he nearly cried! And Jade—hah! Jade acted like it was nothing!"
His hands flew through the air, mimicking explosions, grand gestures, movements far bigger than reality. Each time he spoke, the tale grew a little grander, a little brighter, until it sounded less like a healing and more like a legend carved into the stars.
Niamh raised a brow, lips twitching as though holding back laughter. "Is that so?" she asked dryly, casting Jade a sidelong glance.
Jade said nothing. He simply lowered himself onto a chair by the window, resting his head against his palm, his expression unreadable. Yet when Lio dared to glance his way, expecting a reprimand, Jade's eyes softened just enough to silence the boy's worry.
It was enough.
Lio straightened his spine, puffed his chest, and continued, his voice swelling with pride. In his mind, it was as though he had shared in Jade's triumph, as though the governor's thanks belonged to him as well. The boy's smug grin spread so wide it nearly split his face.
Amara sighed, shaking her head fondly, while Niamh allowed the boy to rattle on, content to let his excitement fill the chamber with warmth. The night had been long, heavy with fear, but now… now there was laughter. There was life.
Outside, the twin moons of Nexarion cast their pale glow across the city. Inside the governor's estate, where shadows of politics and power usually ruled, the sound of a ten-year-old's exaggerated storytelling rang bright and clear.
And in the quiet of his chair, Jade allowed himself the smallest curve of a smile.
...