The emergency room door slammed behind her.
The noise of the outside world disappeared.
Only silence remained, the instruments, the potions… and Leo's ragged breathing.
Aurona, her hands already covered in healing glow, leaned over her son.
The injuries were numerous.
> Deep bruises.
Three cracked ribs.
A moderate concussion.
Small burns along his arms, caused by an overload of raw aura.
And an unstable residual magical tension, still active around his heart.
She gritted her teeth.
— "He pushed his aura beyond its limits. He's not even trained for this…"
Two healers rushed in, carrying vials, crystals, and ritual bandages.
— "Ms. Aurona, the catalyst is ready!"
— "Put it in the diffuser. Quickly."
The other placed seals on the energy points.
— "His flow is out of sync. We won't be able to stabilize it without someone in direct sync."
Aurona raised her hand.
— "It's me. I've been following him since birth. His aura will recognize mine."
— "But if you synchronize at this point... you'll experience some of his pain!"
— "I don't care."
She placed both hands on Leo's chest, just above the bluish-black symbol that was still faintly pulsing.
She took a deep breath.
— "Connection."
A shudder ran through the room.
The symbol glowed.
And suddenly, she felt.
Everything.
Pain. Fear. Rage.
Despair. The protective instinct.
The silent scream he'd let out in the midst of the fight.
Tears welled up in her eyes, but she remained upright.
— "You shouldn't have done that alone, mi Niño..."
The healers stabilized the flow around her, murmuring incantations.
Leo stirred weakly. A whimper escaped his lips.
A whisper.
— "...Eline... is she okay...?"
Aurona smiled, despite everything.
— "She's okay, Leo. You protected her. You can sleep now. I'm here. Mom is here."
A tear rolled down her cheek.
Then, slowly, the symbol on Leo's chest subsided.
The black glow faded again.
His aura calmed.
His breathing... steadied.
One of the healers sighed with relief.
"Stabilization successful. He's out of the woods."
Aurona withdrew her hands, her arms trembling.
She sat down, tired, exhausted by the effort... but with a serene smile.
"It wasn't his time."
She gently stroked her son's cheek.
"You won't die while I'm here. Do you hear me?"
And Leo, in his unconsciousness... gave a very weak smile.
The sun had long since risen over Atokanayah, bathing the rooftops in its golden hues.
And high above, suspended in the air, legs crossed, sitting as if on an invisible bench...
Ruggero looked out at the city.
He observed the clinic, from afar.
Calm. Immutable.
A place of care, of respite.
His gaze was tranquil.
But his heart... slightly heavy.
— "I'm sorry, kid."
His voice was low, almost erased by the wind.
He absentmindedly tapped the Attira medallion around his neck.
— "But it was the only way to know. You could have been a danger. You could have lost control."
He sighed, closed his eyes.
— "But you fought... to protect. Not to destroy. So we're even." You showed me what I wanted to see."
He stood up, walking through the air to the edge of a roof.
"And I'll keep it a secret. Until you're ready to carry it yourself."
Then he disappeared, as stealthily as he had come.
---
Cattleya Guild HQ, Central District.
Maria, an elegant, straight figure, was finishing reading reports at her desk.
When Ruggero entered, hands in his pockets, looking relaxed as if he'd just come from a picnic.
He flopped into the chair opposite her.
"Mission accomplished."
She raised an eyebrow.
"Did you identify the perpetrator of Alfonso's murder?"
"Yeah. A freelance mercenary. No affiliation. Very crude aura, but too vague. A personal vendetta, nothing more." »
— "Were you able to locate him?"
— "He fled the city. No trace. The aura disappeared into the sea of flux."
Maria stared at him for a long time.
She knew how to spot a lie.
She had seen hundreds of spies, manipulators, false witnesses.
But that day... she said nothing.
She simply nodded.
— "Very well. Case closed. The Alfonso family no longer has any influence anyway."
Ruggero crossed his arms behind his head.
— "See? Even I can write clean reports."
— "For once."
Maria narrowed her eyes.
— "You seem more tired than usual."
He smiled softly.
— "Maybe I just saw... a reflection of the past."
She didn't understand.
And he didn't elaborate.
Because the secret no longer belonged to him.
It belonged to Leo DioAngelo.
The light was soft.
A warm filter filtered through the clinic curtains, bathing the room in a tranquil brightness.
A faint, distant hum.
Then…
A beat.
Two.
Three.
Leo's eyes opened slowly.
It took him a few seconds to understand what he was seeing.
Painted patterns on the ceiling. White walls. The smell of medicinal herbs.
Then he moved.
A sharp pain stabbed his side.
"Ouch…"
"Don't move."
The voice was soft.
Firm.
Familiar.
He turned his head and saw his mother, Aurona, sitting in a chair by the bed, her eyes red from lack of sleep.
She stood up and gently placed her hand on his forehead.
"You were unconscious for two days." You had a violent aura surge. And you're... an idiot."
A silence.
Then she smiled, despite herself.
— "My idiot son."
He grimaced.
— "I hurt all over."
— "Normal. You're broken all over. And you'll stay here for a week."
— "A week?!"
— "And you don't move. You don't train. You don't scream. You sleep, you eat, you breathe. That's all."
He looked away, a little ashamed.
— "I just... wanted to protect them."
Aurona lowered her gaze.
— "And you did it."
She took him in her arms, gently, despite the bandages.
He felt her warmth, her trembling fingers.
— "You don't have to carry this alone, Leo." Even if you want to be strong... you still have the right to live your age."
He stood there, silent, tears welling up in his eyes.
No pain.
No fear.
Just... tenderness.
---
A few hours later, when Aurona had slipped away, the door slowly opened.
Eline.
Her arms bandaged, bandages on her cheek.
But she was smiling.
— "Hello, broom knight."
He chuckled softly, his throat still rough.
— "Hello, terrible cook."
She came over and placed an orange on his table.
— "Gift. It's all I could steal from the counter."
— "Are you stealing from a clinic?"
— "I said 'steal.' I never said 'succeed.'" »
They laughed softly.
Then she sat up, looked at him more seriously.
— "You almost died for us."
— "But I didn't die."
— "Not yet." She lowered her voice.
— "By the way... Kragg has been treated. He's in the next room. He's already grumbling about soft meals."
— "That means he's fine."
— "Yeah. Thanks to you."
They remained silent for a moment.
Then Eline gently grabbed his hand, without saying anything.
And Leo, also without saying anything, gently squeezed hers.
Eline was still there, sitting on the edge of the bed, fiddling with the label of an empty vial.
Leo looked at her with a wry smile, despite his cheeks still swollen from the bruises.
— "If you keep looking at me with that kind of intention... I might think you're in love with me."
Eline looked up, arched an eyebrow, and burst out laughing.
— "Excuse me?!"
— "I'm just saying... the look, the hand I held, the oranges..."
— "I could suffocate you with that orange."
— "Hey, I'm feeling fragile right now."
— "Exactly. It would be easier."
They shared a light, knowing laugh.
A breath of fresh air in this room too full of past tension.
But Eline, without saying so, remained a few seconds longer, sitting next to him.
And her silence said it all.
---
A little later that day, Kragg, limping slightly, walked slowly down the clinic corridor, wearing a loose hospital gown and holding a cane that creaked with every step.
He stopped in front of Leo's door, then opened it with a jab of his hip.
— "So, little one. We play heroes, save the girls, destroy half the playground... and end up in a bed?"
Leo smiled.
— "You know what they say: heroes always end up hurt."
— "Or dead. But you still have time."
Kragg sat down heavily on a chair, groaning a little.
— "You stood up to a guy I barely saw move myself. You shouldn't be capable of that at your age."
Leo looked away.
— "I just wanted to protect you." »
— "You did it. But you have to understand something, kid..."
He placed a huge hand on the edge of the bed.
— "Know that there are certain times when running away is very useful. We call it strategic retreat. Being strong isn't just about taking it. It's also about knowing when not to rush in."
— "And if there's no running away?"
Kragg stared at him. For a long time.
Then he tapped his chest with two fingers.
— "Then your heart must be beating hard enough for two. And yours... it's beating hard, Leo. Very hard."
A silence passed between them.
Then Kragg got up with a grunt, heading for the door.
— "Get some rest. And the next time you destroy my tavern, you'll get three weeks of washing dishes."
— "Deal."
The door closed.
---
Night fell. Silence fell.
Leo was alone.
Lying there, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, he let his thoughts wander.
The blows.
The mask.
The air barrier.
And above all... that voice.
> "I knew it was you."
> "We'll see each other again."
Leo gently gripped the sheets.
— "Ruggero..."
He remembered everything. The pressure. The aura. The feeling of being analyzed, dissected... tested.
— "He wanted to know if I was a murderer."
He looked at his hand.
It was still shaking a little.
But not from fear.
From expectation.
— "He'll come back."
He could feel it.
And this time, he would be ready.
The silence had become familiar to Leo.
Lying in that white bed, wrapped in bandages, he listened to...
The steady ticking of a watch, resting on his chest.
His father's watch.
The ticking was slow.
Tired.
But... it was still ticking.
Leo clutched the object to himself.
— "You're still here."
He closed his eyes.
— "I wish I could look for you..."
His throat tightened.
— "But I can't. Not yet."
He inhaled painfully, his ribs still tender.
— "Mom needs me. If I leave, who will protect her? Who will pay for the house? Food? Healthcare? We don't even have enough to cross three regions..."
A discreet tear escaped him.
— "I chose to stay." Not because I've forgotten you, but because she comes first. She loved you. She still loves you. And she clings to me like a lifeline."
He looked at the watch, his voice no longer shaky. He said, I still think of that sentence:
— "I said... I'd be your knight, that morning."
He clenched his fists.
— "Because I saw in her eyes a distress I never want to see again. Because you weren't there anymore. Because she cried silently, and no one listened to her."
His lips were trembling now.
— "That was our promise, Dad, to you and me. That I, your son... would be her bulwark. Her sword. Until you, the true knight, returned."
He closed his eyes.
— "And you will come back. I'm sure of it. So wait. Be patient a little longer. I'll find you." »
He gently kissed the watch.
— "I promise."
Meanwhile, in the silent courtyard, Aurona sat alone on a bench, her hands clasped around a cup of warm water.
She gazed at the moon.
But her thoughts were fixed on the past.
— "Rowan..."
Her voice was a prayer, lost.
— "Our son believes you're alive. Because that watch, your aura... continues to beat within him. And... I want to believe it. But I'm afraid."
Her fingers tightened.
— "I'm afraid you'll see me differently. Since that night..."
Her eyes clouded over. She lowered her head.
— "What Alfonso did to me... it stole a piece of me. And sometimes I wonder if... if I'm still worthy of you."
She stifled a sob.
— "And because of me, Leo killed. To save me. He acts like it's okay. Like it's 'nothing.' But I know it's not true. I see it in his silences. In his lost gazes."
Her breath caught.
— "And now, Ruggero... He almost killed him. Mi Niño Leito. I was helpless. Once again."
She clutched the goblet until her knuckles turned white.
— "What mother lets her child sacrifice himself for her? What wife gives up hope and collapses, to the point that her son becomes a wall in her place?"
She raised her head, her eyes swimming with tears.
— "But he kept me alive. Leito... he promised me he would be my knight. And... he has been. Every day. Since."
She smiled, broken but standing.
— "So now... it's up to me to be strong. It's up to me to carry him."
She stood up slowly, as if carried by a newfound will.
— "I'm going to work harder. Train, if necessary. I want him to live... like a child. Not like a survivor."
She turned toward the light of the clinic.
— "And one day, when you come back, Rowan... you'll find not a broken woman, but a mother standing tall. A wife still worthy."
The wind blew through the leaves.
And in that breath, a promise echoed her son's.
To be continued