Night settled over Earth like a slow, unaware exhale. It was soft, muted, and tragically ignorant of the worlds trembling because two young hearts that refused to sever their connection.
She stood on a beach of pale, crystal sand. The water was unlike anything known on Earth. It looked luminous, impossible sapphire, slick and glassy as it kissed the shore. Above her, Woewyn's twin moons hung low, a pair of ancient, benevolent eyes. Though the sun was still shining.
This wasn't Earth. This wasn't real. But it felt more like home than any place she could physically touch.
Damon stood there, ankle-deep in the shallows, his trousers rolled. Laughter echoed in his voice as Daichi, now massive, the size of a giant wolf, snapped playfully at the retreating waves.
"Daichi!" she shouted, joy pulling her across the glowing sand. "You'll scare the eternally surprised fish away!"
Daichi barked in a way no terrestrial wolf ever could, his enormous tail wagging a furious, frothing rhythm in the impossible blue water.
Damon turned toward her. And the entire fabricated world stilled.
His smile was gentle, crooked, and undeniably Damon. And it snapped every fractured piece of her chest back into place with the force of sudden, overwhelming relief.
"Natsuki," he breathed, his voice soft as the tide. "You made it."
She didn't question the impossibility. Dreams demanded no logic; only honesty. She reached for him.
He took her hand easily and naturally. The contact familiar and anchoring, like an essential nutrient she had been starving for.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his eyes searching hers.
She nodded, the lie catching in her throat as longing pressed against her voice box. "I… I just missed you so much."
Damon's thumb brushed her knuckles, lingering. "I missed you, too."
It was everything she needed and everything she could never truly have.
A cold, unfamiliar wind shifted.
A crack of pure white light suddenly ripped across the sky. Thin, sharp, like a pane of glass fracturing under strain.
Natsuki's breath hitched. "Damon…?"
He looked genuinely confused, trapped fully within the dream. "What's wrong?"
Another crack. Then another, spider-webbing reality across the luminous darkness.
The sky cleaved in white. The beaches water went dull. Damon's hand whihc was warm a breath before immediately ghosted cool in hers.
"Wait—" She gripped him with desperate strength. "Don't—don't go—"
His silhouette began to shimmer, fading at the edges like smoke.
"Natsuki?" His voice thinned, laced with extreme calm. "Natsuki, I'm right here, what's wrong—"
She tried to pull him close, to anchor him, but he was slipping through her like water.
"No—! Damon, please—!"
His form collapsed into drifting, silver particles of light, vanishing with a final, chilling silence.
Then, immediate, suffocating darkness collapsed unto her, though it felt like she was falling at the same time. Her eyes snapped open. Her pillow was wet in sweat. Her lungs were burning, breathing ragged and desperate in the mundane silence of her bedroom.
"I can't…" Her voice broke into a desolate whisper no one heard. "I can't take this anymore."
On Woewyn, Damon hadn't slept. Not even a minute.
Each hour on this side tightened around him like a fist. It's been two days. Two days on Woewyn meant two weeks has passed on Earth. Natsuki would have reached out, even for a trivial reason. So why hasn't she? He thought.
"Is Natsuki okay…?" The questions looped, a self-inflicted torture he couldn't shut off.
When the bright yellow Woewyn sun finally rose, he went straight to the throne room.
Queen Thessa stood with her generals, reviewing boundary reports. But the moment Damon entered, her senses trained by a millennium of conflict and motherhood, sharpened.
"What happened?" she asked, cutting straight to his panic.
Damon didn't hesitate. "Good Morning, mom. Natsuki hasn't contacted me in two days."
Nyra who lounging against a crystalline column looking utterly bored, grinned lazily. "Two days without your lover and you're already—"
"Two days here," Damon cut her off sharply, his voice raw. "are two weeks on Earth."
Nyra's smirk dissolved, replaced by sudden alarm. "Oh..."
Queen Thessa frowned. "How would she contact you, Damon? Earth tech won't cross planes. And she doesn't have enough eterna to power Woewyn's."
Damon inhaled, pulling himself together. "The first day I arrived. When Nyra took me shopping?"
"For Natsuki's gift," Thessa recalled, nodding slowly.
"I didn't buy tech. I got the Shard of Luminaris."
The Queen's exhale folded the room. Her eyes softened. "Rumours are that shard answers only when two souls are tethered. If she hasn't contacted you, then I understand."
She stamped a red-wax emblem onto a parchment and handed it to a hovering attendant.
"You are allowed to go. But," she added, meeting his gaze, "I will come with you."
Damon stiffened. "Mom— I don't want you to have to—"
"I won't stare at you two," she smiled faintly. "I have someone I need to see as well. Richard."
The name hung heavy with shared, complex memories.
"And Woewyn?" Damon asked, anxious. "Who's ruling while we're gone? What if a kingdom attacks?"
"We've negotiated well. For now, we are at peace," she replied, her gaze sliding pointedly toward Nyra. "And Nyra will govern."
Nyra squeaked. "I— what? Me??"
The Queen paused, a flicker of amusement crossing her face.
She yielded. "Fine... but only if Damon gives me access to his cave crystals."
Damon exhaled, half-relieved. "Huh? Why?... Deal. But don't break anything."
Before the tension could break further, Damon felt a familiar, swirling energy signature approaching at high speed.
Queen Thessa raised a hand, stopping Damon's Tutors. "No interruptions," she warned without looking back.
They sadly obeyed. Damon nodded. "Let's go."
They walked into a field of low, glowing plants, each petal on them storing shimmering droplets like captured tears. Fairies darted between them in trails of iridescent light.
Hazel hovered above three flowers, her arms crossed tight.
"Magnus! South-west corner!" she scolded a tiny, glittering sprite. "We don't need nightmare-dew mixing with joy-dew, it ruins the eternas!"
She then turned, saw Damon, and her entire expression ignited like a miniature sunrise.
"Damon!" she squeaked, zipping straight to him and delivering a soft, weightless hug to his forehead. He lifted a hand so she could sit on his palm.
"It's been a long time," Hazel said. "What brings you to Lullabough?"
"Natsuki hasn't contacted me," he said quietly, holding his breath.
Hazel's bright face fell instantly.
Hazel rose; dust trailed like scattered constellations. She dove into the petals and surfaced with one pale-blue droplet cupped in her hands.
She hovered over Damon, breath held. "You chose right," she said. Tone certain.
"What just happened?" He asked, fascinated.
"On Earth, when people dream they leave leave behind some form of emotion. I accessed the remnants of Natsuki's recent dreams, her deepest emotions."
"What did you see?" Damon asked, leaning in.
Hazel smiled mischievously, a finger to her lips. "I can't tell you, obviously."
She zoomed to Queen Thessa and whispered something in her ear. Thessa put a hand over her mouth and actually giggled way too loud.
"Hazel!" Damon protested. "How is that fair?"
Hazel hummed proudly. "Mothers are allowed spoilers."
She lifted her small arms. A portal blossomed open, smoother and steadier than any Damon had conjured. Damon bowed his head in profound thanks.
Hazel whispered as he stepped through, her voice full of pride. "Young love… go fix it. Hey! Magnus! Get back here!!"
Earth air hit him like a mix of sharp nostalgia and aching heartbreak. Blue sky. Warm wind. Comforting, familiar gravity.
His mother touched his shoulder. "Meet me at home when you're done. Okay?" Her voice soft and she had a smile on.
He nodded, already running. He ran through the streets like a mortal again.
He reached her window, his hand clutching the railing of her balcony. Her painting was still on display. Mount Fuji, the pagoda, emerald sunlight, lilac leaves. A landscape halfway between Earth and Woewyn.
She had an earpiece on as she laid on her bed, feet bare.
Damon felt everything inside him: the worry, the stress of the kingdom, and the sleepless nights, go unbearably soft.
He climbed onto the small balcony.
Inside, Natsuki had an arm resting on her forehead and in her other hand she spun the Shard of Luminaris from the chain Damon had attached to it. Then she froze when she sensed someone and turned.
Her breath vanished, as if sucked from the room. "...Damon?"
He stepped in, taller, slightly broader, wearing his sleepless worry like a visible second skin.
"Hi," he breathed.
She took of the earpieces and walked to him slowly, every movement hesitant, as if terrified he would dissolve again. She stopped a single, tense step away.
"You've grown," she whispered, her voice rough.
"And you look like you haven't slept since I left," he countered, his voice equally rough.
"Well would you sleep if you saw me in the state you were, bloody and on the floor in a cave?! But I guess it's fine now, isn't it?"
"Yeah, it was just training, kinda. I didn't mean to worry you..." He hesitated, trying not to tell her the full details.
"What do you mean training? What kind of "training" leaves you in a state like that?" she pestered with true concern.
"I'm sorry..." was all Damon could whisper.
Silence settled between them. Heavy, searching, trembling with unspoken things.
"Why didn't you activate Luminaris?" he asked softly, looking at her distressed face.
Her throat tightened. "I… I thought maybe you were busy. Or—or that you didn't want to talk. And then I did—and I saw…"
Her voice broke completely. She looked down at the floor, unable to finish.
Did she see Cythera and I? Is she... jealous? She would only be jealous if she had... Damon thought, but the realisation hit him like a mountain of pillows.
Damon gently lifted her chin. He lowered his head until her forehead pressed to his, their breaths trembling together in the tiny space between them.
Her breath caught in surprise though she didn't push back.
Damon's voice was barely a whisper.
"I'm feeling pretty confident now so I guess I should say it. Natsuki… how do I put this?" He paused, gathering the heavy confession.
"When I'm with you, everything feels... lighter," Damon said. "Recently it's like my chest isn't constantly carrying the weight of two worlds."
Natsuki's breath caught again, a tiny, sharp sound.
"You make things feel possible. Even for someone like me. You look at me and don't see a prince. Or a weapon. Or what I might become."
His voice cracked faintly. "You just… see me. Only a few people see me like that."
Her thumb, hesitant at first, stroked his cheek. Trembling like a leaf.
"And I want that," he whispered. "I want you. I want a life where I get to choose you."
He let out a deep, shaking breath. "But lately… you feel like a dream I'm not worthy to chase. I— I really like you, Natsuki."
Her eyes glistened. A tear finally slipped free, tracking a clean line down her cheek. She placed a hand on his cheek, thumb brushing the faint sleepless shadow beneath his eye.
"Damon…" she whispered, her voice shaking with the same emotion. "That means more than any other thing you could've said."
She took a breath. A fragile, deliberate steadying one.
"Promise me something," she murmured, her gaze unwavering. "If, or when the world tries to pull you apart… you'll reach for me first."
His breath trembled against hers.
"I will," Damon whispered fiercely. "Every time. If you promise me the same thing too." Damon requested.
She nodded slowly, the fierce light returning to her eyes.
"I promise," she whispered, leaning in, a tiny, relieved laugh escaping her. "Because I'm not going anywhere."
He opened his mouth to say something more, but she gave him no chance.
Her mouth found his, slow and certain, like a truth she'd finally decided to speak. It was a full, imperfect, certain kiss. Claiming the promise they had just made to defy the distance between heartbeats.
When they pulled apart...
"I'm sorry, Natsuki. I should've told you this a long time ago." He confessed.
She smiled against his lips, face still facing upward, nose brushing his. "Likewise."
Meanwhile, his mother stood at the old, humble doorstep, breathing shallowly. Will he even give me a chance? Actually... he'd be right if he didn't give me one. I suppose I deserve that.
She knocked once. Almost tearing up.
Richard opened the door. He froze, his expression cycling through disbelief, memory, and profound sadness. Then he smiled. A painful, infinitely soft smile.
Thessa broke. The tears she hadn't shed for quite the long time, fell. She hugged him without meaning to, clinging to him like a lifeline.
"I'm sorry…" she whispered into his shoulder. "Richard, I am so sorry…"
He held her gently, his arms strong and comforting.
"I've missed you, Thessa."
More tears fell. "I never deserved your kindness," she managed.
"But I've never stopped caring," he replied.
After a while... They talked for hours. They had a quiet, human, simple conversation and explanation.
"Damon's actual father..." She explained carefully, revealing all the secrets her heart longed to confess to him. Something she hadn't had in a long time.