Chapter 46: The Family Reunion
Upon reaching home, Elara burst through the front door, her voice ringing through the house.
"Mum! Mum, I'm back!"
Hearing her daughter's voice, Mrs. Bristow froze mid-step, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. For a fleeting moment, she thought it was a cruel trick of her imagination, a desperate dream from nights spent longing for her child's return. She didn't dare move, terrified that if she blinked, the voice would vanish.
Beside her, Mr. Bristow watched in confusion and mild frustration. This woman who nearly lost her mind from grief is now standing frozen? he thought, shaking his head fondly.
Mrs. Bristow turned slowly to look at her husband, her face pale, her lips trembling as if asking, Did you hear it too? Am I dreaming?
Mr. Bristow gave a small chuckle under his breath. "You were about to go crazy waiting, and now you're frozen in place?" he teased softly. Without giving her time to respond, he gently wrapped his hand around hers and led her to the door.
The moment they stepped outside and Mrs. Bristow saw her daughter standing there—alive, radiant, real—something inside her shattered. Tears blurred her vision. Without hesitation, she ripped her hand from her husband's and sprinted forward, her feet barely touching the ground.
Elara's heart swelled as she caught sight of her mother rushing toward her. Joy, relief, and love exploded inside her like fireworks. She ran too, her arms stretched out wide.
"Mummy! I missed you so much!" she cried out, her voice breaking into a soft, girlish whimper.
"Oh, my baby, come here!" Mrs. Bristow wept, wrapping Elara tightly in her arms as if she would never let go again. Her voice was thick with emotion. "Mummy missed you too. So, so much. I thought I had lost you forever… My precious, only child."
Tears streamed down Mrs. Bristow's face, soaking into Elara's hair. But for once, they were tears of overwhelming happiness.
Mr. Bristow stood nearby, allowing them their sacred moment. His eyes glistened with unshed tears, but he kept his arms folded tightly across his chest, holding himself together. Let them have this, he thought. They needed it.
Yet Elara soon lifted her head from her mother's shoulder, her eyes searching—and finding—her father.
"Daddy!" she called out, waving her arms excitedly, much like a small child seeking her favorite toy. "I missed you so much!"
A warm smile tugged at Mr. Bristow's lips as he crossed the short distance to join them. He placed a hand on Elara's head and pulled her gently into the family hug.
"I missed you too, my little sunshine," he said gruffly, his voice thick. God knows how much, he thought. Though he had been the family's pillar during their dark days, inside he had been breaking apart, terrified they would never see their daughter again.
For a while, they simply stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, letting the weight of fear and pain melt away.
Meanwhile, at the Johnson household, a similarly emotional reunion unfolded.
Ariella was trapped in a crushing embrace between her mother and grandmother, both women refusing to let her go. Even after an hour, they clung to her as though letting go for even a second might cause her to vanish.
Ariella tried to wiggle free, laughing and lightly complaining, "Grandma, Mum… I'm not going anywhere!"
But they simply tightened their hold, showering her with kisses and stroking her hair.
Mr. Johnson stood nearby, arms crossed, a slight scowl on his face—not from anger, but from a very specific kind of jealousy. Didn't he miss his daughter too? He thought.
He cleared his throat loudly.
No reaction.
He tapped his foot impatiently.
Still no reaction.
Seriously? He thought, exasperated. Was it because I stayed calm? Because I didn't faint like them? I did it for their sake!
But seeing Ariella's radiant smile and hearing her laughter eased the bitterness in his heart. Forget it, he thought with a fond shake of his head. Let them have their fill. My little girl is home safe—that's all that matters.
Far from the warm, cozy homes, in a place cold and dark, the Shrouded One sat quietly by a fire.
His body had mostly healed, though faint scars remained hidden beneath his robes. Despite his physical recovery, the sting of his Master's reprimands still burned hotter than any wound.
"How can an ancient being like you be defeated time and again by mere children?!" the Master had raged, his voice echoing through the dark halls.
Little 9 had bowed his head low and taken the scolding in silence. There was no excuse. Deep inside, he knew he had grown... hesitant. He was no longer the cold, ruthless being he once was. Ever since meeting the girls—especially after the events surrounding the strange pot—something inside him had shifted, even if he refused to admit it.
The Master, seething with disappointment, had shortened his deadline. Less than a month remained now. Failure was not an option.
Alone by the fire, Little 9 clenched his fists. He needed to finish this mission… if only to finally turn his attention to more pressing mysteries. The strange pot, the inexplicable revival… questions he could no longer ignore.
Fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately—the girls had made it easier for him. Without their powers, they could no longer mask their presence. Tracking them had been child's play.
Yet when he focused on sensing them, unease prickled at the edges of his mind.
The first time he sensed them—after escaping the Queens' century-old trap—their aura had felt youthful but vibrant. Fragile, yes, but alive. Now, their auras were… ghostly. Barely noticeable. If he hadn't honed his senses through decades of training, he might not have sensed them at all.
He narrowed his eyes.
Something was wrong.
Something was very wrong.
And so, without further hesitation, the Shrouded One rose to his feet, his cloak swirling around him like a shadow come to life.
This time, he would see with his own eyes what had become of the two girls who defied fate itself.