Kaelya offered Orion a gentle smile, her voice soft as a breeze brushing against the soul. "I'll be heading off now. Don't forget to pick up Felix before you leave," she whispered, the words carrying a warmth that lingered in the air.
"Sure," Orion replied, his tone flat and indifferent. His gaze remained fixed ahead, thoughts tethered firmly to his parents — a silent storm brewing beneath his calm exterior.
Without another word, Kaelya summoned a radiant, oversized flower in the heart of the Aethercastle. Its petals unfurled with a slow, reverent grace as she stepped atop it. With a final glance at Orion, the bloom gently closed around her, cocooning her in fragrant silence before sinking into the earth like a dream swallowed by memory — carrying her back to the Womb of Arian.
Orion pushed open the grand doors to Seraphyx's chambers, the creaking hinges giving way to a tender scene within. Queen Minerva and King Orion sat nestled in the protective embrace of Seraphyx, the warmth of the chamber contrasting with the chill in Orion's chest.
"Orion... my son."
King Orion was on his feet in an instant, pulling away from Seraphyx and rushing to his child's side. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around the prince, holding him tightly.
"How have you been?" Queen Minerva followed swiftly behind, her eyes scanning him with motherly worry, her hands hovering as if afraid he might break.
"Mother... Father…" Prince Orion murmured, his voice steady but laced with emotion. "I've been well under the care of the Emblems. I can walk again now, though… my combat skills haven't improved."
He returned their embrace, wrapping his arms around both their torsos and drawing them close — as if afraid they might vanish if he let go.
"I'm also here…"
A familiar warmth stirred within him, and Frieda's voice emerged as she took gentle control. "I'm so happy to finally meet you both... properly."
King Orion and Queen Minerva froze for a breath, blinking as they instinctively took a small step back.
"You must be Frieda," King Orion said, releasing a quiet sigh. "Seraphyx filled us in on… everything."
"It's still hard to believe," Queen Minerva added, her brow furrowed. "And I must admit — I'm a little upset with Orion for doing something as reckless as consuming your soul…"
She nodded, glancing at her husband as if seeking affirmation. He nodded back in quiet agreement.
A soft laugh echoed from behind them.
"So we're ignoring my presence today?" Seraphyx teased with a playful grin, wings curled slightly as he watched the reunion unfold. "Rude. And after I did all that emotional heavy lifting…"
Queen Minerva gently cupped Orion's cheek, scanning his face like she was trying to decode the past few months from his pores alone. "You look… thinner. Are you eating enough? Sleeping properly? You haven't written in weeks."
King Orion joined her side, arms crossed like he was trying to look stern — but the crinkle near his eyes betrayed the relief. "You used to send letters. Now all we get are vague messages through Seraphyx like, 'He's alive, probably.' Not very reassuring, you know."
Prince Orion blinked. "I've been fine. Seriously. If anything, you two seem to be enjoying a little too much peace and fluff."
He gestured pointedly toward Seraphyx, whose wings were now suspiciously forming a makeshift blanket around their thrones.
Queen Minerva narrowed her eyes. "What are you implying?"
"I'm implying that the rulers of the Dominion have spent the past few weeks being glorified lapdogs in Seraphyx's cuddle prison while ignoring your very active son handling the war preparations."
King Orion looked genuinely offended. "It's not a prison. It's... warm. And emotionally healing."
"And strategic!" Minerva added quickly, crossing her arms. "We've been… meditating. On policy."
Seraphyx smirked from behind them, clearly enjoying himself. "They've mastered the ancient art of horizontal diplomacy."
Prince Orion snorted, then sighed. "I missed you both. Even if you've turned into overgrown house cats."
"But seriously," Prince Orion said, his smile fading into a frown, "war is upon us. You can't just spend your days curled up in this chamber, pretending the world isn't shifting."
King Orion sighed deeply, his gaze distant. "We know... We do. But you don't understand how heavy it's been since the Cataclysm. The silence... it haunts."
Orion softened. He looked to Seraphyx with a hint of reverence and jest. "Mother Seraphyx, may I borrow my parents for a while? I'd like to spend time with them before I take on my duties as the Envoy."
"Of course," Seraphyx replied, reclining with a serene smile. "We have enough time to say our goodbyes properly... for now."
Then, almost as an afterthought, a flicker of tension crossed his face.
"Though time runs thin... The Heavenly Principles may soon take notice of these movements of war."
With a nod of gratitude, the royal family offered their farewells to Seraphyx and made their way to the balcony — a grand, open expanse lined with marble and starlight. The wind carried the scent of snow and distant frostflowers. Below, wrapped around the roots and peaks of Arian, Mother Rosen's vast, ethereal form coiled like a guardian spirit watching over her domain.
Orion exhaled, the cold air catching on his breath. "Mother... Father... I'll be leaving tomorrow."
"We know, my son," Minerva murmured, stepping beside him. She wrapped her arms around him, resting her chin against his shoulder as if trying to hold back time itself.
King Orion approached with a wistful smile. "Ah... When was the last time we were all together like this? No politics. No war. Just... us."
He gently pulled the two apart and gathered them into his embrace, his voice carrying the weight of both joy and sorrow.
"This moment deserves celebration. We must send our son off with laughter, with light. With a memory so bright, even the darkest battlefield can't dim it."
He looked at Orion with a sparkle in his eye.
"Well? What do you say, son?"
Frieda stirred, her voice slipping through like sunlight through clouds. "Say yes, Orion."
He chuckled softly, rolling his eyes as a smile finally broke through.
"Fine... yes," Orion sighed, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Let's have a celebration."
The Aethercastle stirred instantly.
As if those words were a long-lost command, a gentle pulse of magic rippled through the walls. Chandelier crystals sparked to life, music shimmered into existence from hidden enchantments, and the air itself seemed to glow warmer — vibrant with anticipation.
Melodies burst forth like birdsong after a long winter — elegant, celestial, joyful. Harps, flutes, and crystalline bells harmonized together, flooding the great hall with life. No scrolls, no invitations — the castle's magic had already summoned those near and dear, those who could arrive in time to celebrate their prince.
Banquet tables manifested in grand arcs across the floor, overflowing with ethereal dishes: windblossom pastries, glittering frostfruit, steaming platters of roast lizard, and goblets of nectarwine that refilled themselves when no one was looking.
And there, in the middle of it all, stood Prince Orion — regal and uncertain in equal measure.
"You're not dancing?" came Frieda's voice, amused, from within.
He gave a low chuckle. "With who? I can't exactly spin you around when you're living in my spleen."
"You're such a romantic," she teased.
Just then, the sound of rapid footsteps and frantic flapping echoed down the corridor.
The doors burst open — not with a majestic quake, but more of a light slam — and in skidded a small, silver-blue dragon no larger than a hound. Wings slightly too big for his body, claws ticking against the marble, Felix stumbled to a halt with a puff of icy breath.
"Am I... late?" he asked, panting, eyes wide with panic.
Orion blinked, then smiled. "You made it."
Felix scampered forward, tail wagging in pure draconic joy. "I brought you these!" He held up a tiny bundle of snowblossoms in his claws — slightly crushed from the run, but clearly heartfelt. "They grow near your sulking cliff. I thought they were appropriate."
"I do not sulk," Orion said, accepting them with a laugh. "I brood. With dignity."
Felix snorted. "Sure."
He plopped down near the base of the dais, curling up politely — like a cat that didn't want to knock over any chairs — but his icy breath frosted the edge of the banquet table anyway.
Seraphyx, lounging above in the rafters with the grace of a celestial predator, looked down at the prince — and smiled.
With a flick of a claw, he twisted the air around Orion into something new, something delicate.
At first, it was just a shimmer. Then, light bent and folded — and the illusion took shape.
Frieda. Gown flowing like stardust, eyes aglow with warmth only Orion could truly see. The room watched in stunned silence as he extended a hand… and she took it.
They danced.
No awkwardness. No hesitation. Every step a memory, every spin a wish made real. The music swirled around them like snow in a storm — soft, beautiful, impossible to look away from.
Felix tilted his head, watching the two with a quiet rumble in his chest. "You look happy."
"I am," Orion replied, twirling the illusion with a soft smile. "For once… I truly am."
Minerva and King Orion stood nearby, hands clasped, eyes shining — pride mixing with that aching parental sadness. Their son was no longer a boy. He was something more now — and tonight, he was radiant.
Seraphyx, overhead, whispered something only the moon heard:
"Let the world wait. Tonight belongs to joy."