Luna looked at the bed, processing what she saw.
The boy sitting there was definitely Konstant. The above average height for his age, the tan skin, the lean body marked by muscles developed over months of physical work. The bone structure of his face, the shape of his nose, the line of his jaw. Everything was right.
But at the same time, everything was wrong.
His hair, which had been dark brown and short, now fell to his shoulders in messy waves of a silvery white that seemed almost to glow in the afternoon light. The long strands partially covered his face, hiding his eyes.
"Who are you talking to, Luna?" Konstant asked, and his voice came out rough, hoarse from disuse.
But it was undeniably his voice.
Luna didn't think twice. She just ran.
She launched herself across the room, jumped onto the bed, and hugged Konstant with such force that he fell backwards from the impact. The mattress cushioned the fall, but it still knocked the air from his lungs.
"Konstant! You're okay! It's really you!" The words came out in a torrent, fast and choppy. "How are you feeling? Does anything hurt? Why aren't you saying anything? Why is your hair white? Why is it so long?"
Konstant went completely blank for a moment. His brain was still trying to process everything. He still couldn't open his eyes, he was still lost in absolute darkness, and suddenly there was a weight on him and a machine gun of questions being fired inches from his face.
He was about to gently push Luna off of him when he felt something drip onto his neck.
It was warm and wet.
And then he heard the sob.
Luna was crying.
All the frustration Konstant felt evaporated instantly. With difficulty, he raised his hand, groping until he found the top of her head, and gave her light, comforting pats.
"It's okay, Luna," he said softly, ignoring how his voice still sounded strange. "I'm okay now."
"I thought," Luna sobbed against his shoulder, her small body trembling, "I thought I'd never see you again. I thought you'd disappear like my parents."
The words pierced something deep within Konstant. He kept stroking her head, murmuring comforting words as she cried. He let her cling to him, let her release weeks of accumulated fear and worry.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity but was probably just a few minutes, Luna's sobs subsided. She sniffled loudly, wiping her face on his shirt without ceremony, and slid off to the side, sitting on the bed next to him.
Konstant lay there for another moment, then, with visible effort, sat up. Every movement felt odd, as if his limbs didn't behave exactly as expected. It took him longer than it should have to find his balance.
Seeing that Luna was calmer, Konstant took a deep breath. The comfort he had offered had been instinctive, a refuge from his own confusion. But now, with her quiet beside him, the reality began to weigh on him again.
"Luna," he said, and his voice sounded strange even to his own ears. It was hoarse, but also deeper. When had that changed? "I need you to tell me something. And you have to be honest."
"Okay," she replied, her tone still thick but attentive.
Konstant raised his hands slowly, as if they were unfamiliar objects, and brought them to his face. His fingers found his eyelids. They were closed, naturally. But when he tried to force them open, using his facial muscles, nothing happened.
There was no muscular resistance. No pain. Not even a sensation of effort. His eyelids simply did not respond. Like trying to move an arm that no longer exists.
It was a deeply unnatural sensation that made his stomach churn.
"Luna," he repeated, keeping his voice as flat as possible. "Is it dark for you right now? In the room?"
"Dark?" Luna tilted her head, confused. "No. There's light. It's afternoon. The sun is coming through the window."
Konstant nodded slowly, his fingers still over his motionless eyes. The confirmation was not a surprise. It was just an acknowledgment of what he already suspected since he awoke.
"So," he said, lowering his hands and letting them rest on the rumpled blankets, "I guess I can't open them."
A heavy silence fell. He could imagine Luna's expression changing, processing, understanding what that meant.
"What do you mean?" Her voice became small, scared.
"I mean my eyelids don't obey. I can feel them, but... they don't move." He paused, his fingers still pressing lightly on his closed eyelids. The calm he felt was strange, almost frightening. "It's as if they aren't mine anymore. As if someone sewed them shut."
He did not say the word "blind". Not yet. It was too big, too heavy. Yet it hung in the air between them like a silent specter.
"The Elder will fix it!" Luna said quickly, and there was desperate hope in her voice. "He knows magic! And Mira has all the remedies! They'll make your eyes work again!"
Konstant felt a small, bitter smile touch his lips. Her childish faith was a burden and a comfort at the same time.
"Maybe," he conceded, neither confirming nor denying. He didn't want to feed false hope, but he also didn't want to destroy hers. "For now, you'll have to be my eyes, Luna. Can you do that?"
"Of course I can!" The response was immediate, full of the unique determination of a child who decides to fix something broken. "I'll tell you everything! The room, your white hair, everything!"
"White?" Konstant asked, and this time surprise broke through a bit of the forced calm in his voice. He brought a hand to his hair, feeling it slide between his fingers. It was definitely longer, softer than he remembered. And the texture seemed slightly different. "My hair is white?"
"White as snow," Luna confirmed, her voice now mixing worry with fascination. "Really white, almost silvery. And it's long, reaching here on your shoulders. You look... different. But you're still you."
Different. The word echoed inside him.
White hair. Eyes that won't open. A body that felt both strange and familiar, like clothes that no longer fit right.
He wasn't panicking. Not in the way he expected to be. The real panic, the desperate fight for survival, had happened inside, in the void, against the purple mist. This here, now, was just the consequences. The price paid.
It was a high price. Frighteningly high.
But he was alive. And Luna was here, safe, talking to him.
"This is going to be a lot of work," he murmured, more to himself than to her.
But Luna heard. "We'll manage," she declared, and there was an echo of determination in her voice. The same firmness that saved him from despair when she counted the petals, as if her vigil alone could bring him back. "I'll help you. With everything."
And for the first time since he awoke in that silent darkness, Konstant felt something that wasn't confusion, pain, or loss. It was a very thin thread, almost imperceptible, of something that could, one day, become hope.
"Thank you," he said quietly.
"I'll go get the Elder," Luna announced, already jumping off the bed with that restored energy. "He'll know what to do. Don't go anywhere, okay?"
"I'm not going anywhere," Konstant replied with a touch of dry humor. Considering he could barely sit up properly, going anywhere was out of the question.
Luna ran to the door, and he heard her small footsteps tapping down the hallway, then descending the stairs, growing more and more distant until they disappeared completely.
And Konstant was left alone in the darkness.
He allowed himself, just for a moment, to really feel the weight of it all. He brought his hands to his face again, touching the eyelids that refused to obey. Touching the long, white hair he shouldn't have.
A part of him wanted to scream. Wanted to punch something. Wanted to cry until nothing was left.
But the larger part, the part that had survived alone for six months, the part that had faced Abyssals and run from corruption for what felt like years, that part just took a deep breath and accepted.
It was not a happy acceptance. It was not a peaceful resignation. Just the practical recognition that screaming wouldn't change anything. Crying wouldn't make his eyes open, if he could even cry with these stubbornly sewn shut eyelids.
So, he just sat there, waiting and listening to the distant sounds of the village through the open window.
Footsteps eventually returned. Multiple pairs. Voices talking in low, urgent tones as they approached.
The door opened.
"Konstant." Aldric's voice, laden with equal measures of relief and concern. "My boy. You're really awake."
"Elder," Konstant greeted, turning his head toward the voice. It was strange to do that, to move based on sound alone. "Yes. I'm awake."
Footsteps approached. The mattress dipped slightly when someone sat beside him.
"May I examine you?" Aldric asked, and there was a gentleness in his voice that Konstant had rarely heard.
"Please," Konstant said. Part of him was desperate for answers. Another part was afraid of the answers he might receive.
He felt firm, yet careful hands touch his face. Fingers rested on his temples and then slid over his closed eyelids. There was a familiar tingling, a sensation of strange yet known energy coursing where the fingers touched.
Aldric was silent for a long time, and with each passing second Konstant's stomach tightened more.
Finally, he said: "Interesting."
"Interesting?" Konstant repeated, unable to hide all his frustration. "I'm blind and you say 'interesting'?"
"Calm yourself," Aldric said firmly, but not without compassion. "Let me finish the examination before drawing conclusions."
Konstant forced himself to be still, not to scream or demand answers immediately as every instinct screamed for him to do. He felt more tingling as Aldric continued his investigation, that energy coursing not just over his eyes, but his entire face, and his skull.
"Your eyes are intact," Aldric finally said, and there was genuine surprise in his voice. "Physically, there is absolutely nothing wrong. The structure is perfect. Better than perfect, actually. Stronger."
"Then why can't I see?" Konstant demanded.
"Because there is a seal," Aldric said, and Konstant could hear professional fascination in his voice. "A film covering your eyelids, keeping them closed. It's not something I know. It's not any type of magic I have studied."
"Can you remove it?" Gareth asked from somewhere near the door. Konstant hadn't noticed the hunter was there.
"No," Aldric admitted. "Not without risking permanent damage to the eyes. The seal is too intertwined with your structure. Trying to force it would be like trying to untangle two fused threads without breaking them."
"So I'll be like this forever?" Konstant asked, and he hated how small his voice sounded.
"No," Aldric said firmly, and there was certainty in his voice that offered a glimmer of hope. "I don't believe it's permanent. The seal has a... temporary quality. Like a chrysalis. As if it's protecting your eyes while they finish transforming."
"Transforming into what?"
"I don't know," Aldric admitted, and there was frustration in his own voice now. "But it likely has something to do with your stellar fragment. The transformation you underwent inside the cocoon was profound. The Abyssal corruption was completely consumed, but in the process, you were fundamentally altered."
"Altered how?" Konstant pressed. "Besides the hair and the eyes?"
Aldric paused, clearly considering how much to reveal. "Your mystical energy is different. Stronger, more vibrant. And there's something new in it. Something I can't completely identify, but that I feel is related to growth. To life."
"The plants on the cocoon," Luna said from somewhere. "They grew because Konstant was inside!"
"Possibly," Aldric agreed. "The cocoon responded to your presence, to your transformation. And now that energy is part of you."
Konstant processed this in silence. Then: "When? When will the seal dissolve?"
"I don't know," said Aldric, and there was genuine sadness in his voice for not having a better answer. "It could take days, weeks, or even months. Perhaps more. But I believe that when your eyes are completely transformed and ready, the seal will dissolve on its own."
It wasn't the answer Konstant wanted. But it was better than "never".
"There is one good thing in all this," Aldric continued, and there was a touch of cautious enthusiasm in his voice. "Some news I think you three will want to hear. But I'll wait until Keiko and Rady arrive."
"Do they know I'm awake?" Konstant asked.
"Luna already went to tell them," Gareth said. "They should be here in a few minutes."
And indeed, it didn't take long. Konstant heard running footsteps, then the door opening violently.
"Konstant!"
It was Keiko's voice, laden with relief so intense it almost hurt to hear.
Footsteps ran across the room, and then Keiko was there, throwing her arms around him in a hug that was half laugh, half sob.
"You idiot," she said against his shoulder, her voice thick. "You complete idiot. Two and a half weeks! Two and a half weeks in a cocoon and you only wake up now?"
"Sorry," Konstant said, and couldn't help a small smile. "I was a bit busy."
"Busy almost dying," Keiko retorted, releasing him but keeping her hands on his shoulders. "Busy driving us crazy with worry."
"Konstant." Rady's voice was lower and more controlled, but no less relieved. "It's good to have you back."
"It's good to be back," Konstant replied honestly.
There was a pause. Then Keiko asked, hesitant: "Your hair... it's white."
"I've been told," Konstant said dryly.
"And your eyes..." she paused. "Why aren't you looking at us?"
The silence that fell was heavy.
"Because I can't," Konstant finally said, forcing the words out. "I can't open them. There's a seal. Aldric says it's temporary, but for now..."
"You can't see," Rady completed quietly.
"No," Konstant confirmed.
"That's..." Keiko began, but the words failed her.
"My fault," Rady said suddenly, and there was something broken in his voice. "If I had acted faster. If I hadn't frozen when..."
"No," Konstant cut him off firmly. "It's not your fault, Rady. None of this is your fault. You saved me when you struck that Grusk. If it weren't for you, I'd be dead. Understand? Dead. Not just temporarily blind."
"But..."
"Aldric said it's not permanent," Konstant continued, putting all the conviction he could muster into his voice. "Said the seal will dissolve when my eyes finish transforming. So it's not your fault. It's just a consequence. A price I had to pay."
Rady didn't answer with words. But Konstant heard a strangled sound, half sob, half sigh of relief.
Keiko cleared her throat, clearly trying to recompose herself. "Well. Then we'll have to be your eyes until this gets resolved. The three of us together, remember? Always together."
"Always together," Konstant agreed, and felt something warm tighten in his chest.
"Well," Aldric interjected, and there was satisfaction in his voice. "Since we're all here, I have some news."
"The good news you mentioned?" Keiko asked.
"Yes." Aldric paused dramatically. "The inspector from Aethérion will not come in a year as planned. He will come much sooner. In approximately three to four months."
Absolute silence.
"Three months?" Keiko repeated, shocked. "But you said it was every five years!"
"And it is," Aldric confirmed. "But circumstances have changed. With the Abyssal attacks intensifying throughout the kingdom, Aethérion is mobilizing. They need all the Mystics they can find. So they are sending inspectors to all regions much sooner than planned."
"And there's more," he continued. "Normally, there would be tests. Evaluations to determine if you are worthy of admission. But now, due to the urgency of the situation, all Mystics will be accepted automatically. No exceptions."
Konstant expected this to cause euphoria. After all, wasn't that the goal? To go to Aethérion, learn about their powers, maybe find a way to return home?
But all he heard was silence.
"You don't seem as excited as I imagined," Aldric observed, and there was confusion in his voice. "Wasn't this what you wanted? A chance to go to Aethérion and perhaps find answers about how to return to your world?"
The three looked at each other. Well, Keiko and Rady looked at each other. Konstant just turned his head in the direction he imagined they were.
"It's just that..." Keiko began, hesitant. "It's complicated."
"We've gotten used to it here," Rady added quietly. "We still want to go home. Of course we do. But..."
"But I'm not sure how I feel about it now," Konstant finished. "A year ago, I would have given anything to get out of here. Now, though, there are people here. Connections and a purpose."
"Thornhaven has become..." Keiko searched for the right word, "important to us. The people here have become important."
"That's natural," Aldric said gently. "You've built lives here. Found places. It's normal to have conflicting feelings about leaving."
"Three months," Rady murmured. "That's not much time."
"No," Aldric agreed. "So I suggest you make the most of it. Spend time with the people who matter. Finish what you started here. And when the inspector arrives, you decide. No one can force you to go if you don't want to."
"Even with the war coming?" Keiko asked.
"Even so," Aldric confirmed. "The choice is yours. It always has been."
Konstant felt something loosen in his chest. Choice. It was something he had rarely had in his life. And now, even blind and transformed, he still had that.
"Three months," he repeated. "So we have three months to figure out what we really want."
"And for you to get used to living without sight," Keiko added, trying to sound light but not quite succeeding.
"That too," Konstant agreed with a small, crooked smile.
It was strange. Terrible, actually. But somehow, surrounded by these people, in this room, he felt less lost.
He still had a long road ahead. Weeks, perhaps months, of darkness. Learning to navigate a world he couldn't see. Dealing with the consequences of his transformation.
But he wasn't alone.
And that would have to be enough.