"I want to be with him, Mother."
Xion's voice was quiet, but each word was steady, almost defiant.
In his adult form, he stood taller than his dear mother. And yet, despite his grown body, he seemed… smaller. Weaker somehow.
As if something essential had been carved out of him, leaving behind only a shell.
Myrthia's eyes softened. She knew why. She had brought Xion back so hastily, tearing him away from that mortal in a blaze of divine light.
The separation had left him hollow, his soul frayed at the edges.
Darius had soaked his hands in blood for Xion's sake, and in doing so, he had woven a new fate.
A red string between angel and mortal so thick and unyielding that even the reversal of time had not been able to sever it.
"Humans and angels are not meant to fall in love, sweetheart," Myrthia said gently. "Every time it happens, it ends in tragedy. That is the law of the worlds."
