Memory

After freshening up, we followed our grandmother to the dining room. As we entered, everyone was waiting for us, and the room was filled with congratulations. Mother immediately rushed to us, pulling Astor and me into a tight hug. Her arms were warm and comforting as she praised us for our progress. Father stood nearby, smiling softly—rare for him—but his pride was evident in the way his eyes lingered on us. Grandfather, though more reserved, gave a nod that said everything. His proud expression was familiar, yet there was something deeper behind it, a familiarity that stirred something in me.

As I stood there, basking in their praise, a strange feeling crept up from the back of my mind. Father's expression...it triggered something, like a memory long buried. I had seen that look before. But where? The thought gnawed at me as I glanced back at Mother. Her face, usually so full of warmth, shifted in my mind. Suddenly, her expression overlapped with another face, a face that flashed before me for the briefest of moments. It felt like I had known this person for my entire life—someone important, someone who mattered deeply. But before I could grasp the memory, it vanished, like smoke in the wind.

A strange, overwhelming emotion surged through me. I could feel tears running down my face without realizing I had been crying. Mother noticed immediately, her worry evident as she knelt down to my level, her voice soft with concern. "Nyx, why are you crying?" she asked, gently wiping my cheeks.

Why am I crying? I didn't know. My hands instinctively went to my face, and yes, the tears were real. But I didn't understand why. My emotions felt tangled, like there was something hidden beneath the surface that I couldn't reach. I quickly regained control, pushing the feeling down, and replied, "Nothing. Something just got in my eye."

Mother checked my eyes, still worried, but I reassured her with a small smile. After a few moments, the tension in the room eased, and we sat down for dinner. I ate quietly, my thoughts swirling around that strange flash of a face. Who was it? Why couldn't I remember?

Later, after the meal, Astor and I went back to our room. Lying on the bed, the questions still tugged at my mind. The face, the feeling, it all felt so close, yet so far. But no matter how hard I tried to pull the memory forward, it remained out of reach, leaving only a lingering sense of loss.

Astor broke the silence, his voice cutting through my thoughts. "Hey, Nyx, do you think we can be as powerful as King Theron and our grandparents?"

I paused, thinking about his question. The truth was, I didn't know. We had only just begun our journey, and the path ahead was long and uncertain. But after everything we had experienced so far, there was a part of me that believed we could—maybe. "...Maybe," I replied, after a moment of hesitation. "Or maybe not. Me and you, Astor, we're in the same situation. We don't know what the future holds."

Astor snickered, rolling his eyes. "Ok, ok, wise man."

I chuckled at his response, and we soon fell into our usual back-and-forth bickering. It was a comforting routine, something that grounded me after the strange emotions of the evening. Eventually, our playful teasing faded, and sleep began to pull us under. I could feel myself drifting off, but the face from earlier still lingered at the edge of my thoughts, waiting for me in my dreams.

Tomorrow would be another day, another step in our journey. But tonight, as I fell asleep beside my brother, that mystery stayed with me. I didn't know who the face belonged to, but deep down, I knew it would resurface again.

Serene's POV

As I watched Nyx stand there, tears streaming down his face, my heart sank. It had been years since I'd seen him cry—since his infancy, in fact. I had always marveled at his resilience and calm demeanor, so this sudden outburst was jarring. What could have stirred such deep emotions in him?

I glanced at Alaric, hoping for some reassurance. "What do you think is going on with him?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. His brow furrowed slightly, and for a moment, I could see the worry hidden beneath his composed exterior.

"Don't worry too much," he replied, but the tension in his jaw told me otherwise. He always seemed to know more than he let on. I could sense that he was concerned, but he wanted to shield me from added worry.

Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that something deeper was troubling Nyx. The way he had momentarily lost himself in that flash of emotion—it was as if he were grappling with something significant. I wished I could reach into his heart and ease whatever burden he carried. But for now, all I could do was be there for him, just as my family had always been there for me.

As I turned back to Nyx, I gently placed a hand on his shoulder, hoping my presence could provide some comfort. Whatever it was that haunted him, we would face it together.