Chapter Text
ARTHUR LEYWIN
Soon, the news spread through Dicathen—and even echoed into Alacrya and Epheotus—like a wildfire running through dry brush. It travelled far faster than either Tess or I had intended.
Neither of us had made a grand announcement. Nor had we wanted one.
Unfortunately, Eleanor Leywin had very different opinions on the matter.
Tess and I had barely stepped across the threshold of the Leywin home when Ellie looked up from the kitchen table. The mischievous smirk on her face immediately put me on high alert.
I paused, eyeing her guardedly. ‘... What?’
She folded her arms, stating two words with absolute certainty. ‘You proposed.’
Tess and I both froze in unison. Then, as the absurdity caught up to us, all three of us burst into helpless laughter.
‘How?’ I asked, genuinely baffled. ‘How could you possibly know already?’
‘You really thought that I wouldn’t notice?’ Ellie stared at me as if questioning my basic intelligence. I could see her mind working and coming up with a thought of how dense I am. ‘You’ve been fidgety and nervous all week!’ She shook her head. ‘I’ve never seen you this way, and you were calmer while holding the fate of the entire world in your hands.’
I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly, feeling heat creep up my collar. ‘I was under the impression that I was acting completely normal.’
'I explicitly warned you that your demeanor was suspicious,' Sylvie’s melodic voice echoed in my mind, tinged with quiet amusement.
A streak of black-and-purple flame manifested beside me, condensing into Regis’s incorporeal form. ‘Finally! God forbid we have to endure another week of his pacing,’ he groaned, rolling dramatically across the floorboards. ‘I think my ears are permanently damaged from listening to his internal existential crisis.’
I rolled my eyes at the wolf's theatrical agony. As if he hadn't spent the last five days relentlessly badgering me about speech templates, flower choices, and romantic etiquette, confusing me with the proper way to propose from all three views from Earth, Alacrya, and Dicathen.
Tess’s eyes brightened, a playful arch rising in her brow. ‘If I had known you were this panicked, Art, I would have asked Sylvie to project your thoughts. I missed out on quite a show,’ she chuckled amusingly. ‘The look you must have had.’
Ellie, Tess, and Sylvie’s giggles melded together. Ellie laughed so hard she nearly dropped the apple in her hand. ‘The terrifying God Killer warrior... defeated by a ring.’
I let out a low sigh, folding my arms. ‘And?’
‘And you still haven't learned how to keep a poker face around your family,’ she teased, doubling over to the ground with fits of laughter overtaking her entire body.
‘Don’t mind her, Arthur,’ Mum said softly from the stove, shaking her head with a fond smile. She stepped away from the counter and walked over, opening her arms to pull me into a tight embrace. She smelled of fresh cloves and butter. ‘She’s just thrilled,’ she whispered against my shoulder, her voice trembling slightly. ‘As am I. And... so would your father be.’
The lighthearted banter vanished, leaving a heavy, quiet stillness in the room.
Melancholy swept across the room like a wave toward the shoreline.
My father. Reynolds Leywin.
He had lived for the dream of seeing his son grow up—seeing me become a man and build a family of his own. Though he wasn't here to stand beside us today, I gripped the quiet hope that somewhere, beyond the reach of our world, he knew.
A knot formed in my throat, hot and sharp. My vision blurred around the edges.
Thinking of him brought a swarm of heavy emotions piercing through me. ‘I just wish Dad was here.’ Tears pricked at the edge of my eyes. Mum felt the tremor in my breath and squeezed me tighter. ‘So do I, Art,’ she murmured softly, her breath catching in a half-sob, half-laugh. ‘I’m sure he would’ve embarrassed you terribly in front of Tess.’ She laughed as she sniffled. A raspy laugh escaped me too. ‘Yeah… I’m sure he absolutely would have.’
We held each other in that quiet embrace for a few long seconds. It was peaceful. Then, a deep ache settled in my chest—a familiar, lingering regret that I hadn't held both my parents more often back when life was simple and time felt endless.
Finally, Mum pulled back, her hands resting gently on my shoulders. She brushed a tear from her cheek and then mine, forcing a bright, tearful smile. ‘No crying, son. Today is a happy day. A day for celebration.’
She looked at me, her eyes shimmering with warmth—eyes that mirrored the familiar kindness of my father's memory, yet carried her own resilient light.
Mum turned her gaze to Tessia, then swept her arms out to encompass the whole room. ‘A wonderful day for both you, Tess, and everyone here who loves all of you.’
‘Congratulations, Art. Tess’
Her voice was soft. Gentle. The same unconditional, warm and kind voice I had always known. It was the same voice that had grounded me in times of trials and tribulations. The tension I didn't realise I was carrying thawed completely. I smiled—a full, genuine smile, lighter than any I had worn since the day Dad fell.
‘Thanks, Mum.’
Before the moment could settle into melancholy, a tangle of arms and fur swarmed us from both sides. Ellie threw herself into the huddle, followed immediately by Tess, while Regis wrapped his shadowy form around our ankles and Sylvie pressed her head against my side.
For a long time, no one spoke. We all simply stood there together in the centre of the house, anchored to one another.
No Asuras.
No continent-spanning wars.
No crushing burdens of Fate.
Just Mum, Ellie, Tess, Regis, Sylvie, and me.
Together.
A family.