Beneath the broken sky

Old bonds, new path

The old house on the hill had not changed much in Hyperion's eyes. Just slight signs of aging here and there. Inside, Corriander stood by the doorway, frozen in disbelief. Her son was home.

Hyperion. Her bright, curious wanderer of a boy had finally returned.

He stood there in the late afternoon light, taller than she remembered, his golden hair longer, his shoulders broader, and his eyes, those same eyes that once brimmed with boyish wonder, now sharp with something heavier; experience.

She opened her mouth to speak, but he beat her to it with that wry tone only he could manage.

“Can you stop staring at me with those pitiful eyes and let’s go inside? I’m starving.”

Corriander laughed, though the tears almost betrayed her. “Luckily for you, I just finished cooking white rice and beef sauce.”

That got a grin out of him. He raised his hands in mock celebration. “A feast fit for my return! The gods must love me.” And before she could even invite him, he had already walked in, his boots thudding against the wooden floor.

Inside, the smell of spices and warm food filled the air. Hyperion devoured the meal like someone who hadn’t tasted home in years. Which, of course, he hadn’t. Corriander watched him silently.

When he finally slowed down to breathe, she spoke. “How long are you staying this time? You promised me visits every two months. Instead, you vanished for thirty-eight.”

Her voice carried a faint laugh, but her eyes told a different story, the constant dread that every mother bears when her child is out there in a world full of danger. “It got to a point where I was worried sick. Would you have liked it if I started having suicidal thoughts?” she teased softly.

Hyperion gave a small chuckle. “I’m confident in your love for life, Mother.” His tone softened. “And don’t worry. I plan to stay a little while, but I still haven’t mastered magical enhancement techniques. Most of the towns I’ve visited… they’re peaceful, slow places with only basic knowledge of magic.”

He paused, eyes distant as if he were seeing those places again. “That’s actually why I came back. I wanted to see you before heading to the mainland.”

Corriander looked up from her plate. “So you’re leaving again soon.”

He nodded, not meeting her gaze. “In a couple of days. I’ll be heading to Toa first, to pick up an acquaintance. We’ll stay a short while, then leave.”

Corriander raised an eyebrow, trying to mask her disappointment with curiosity. “An acquaintance? So one of your travels finally gave you a friend, is it a boy or a girl?”

“A girl,” he said, smirking at her tone. “And you could’ve shown a little faith in the fact that my journey will have resulted in at least one friend.”

“Oh, I did,” she replied, feigning pride. “Especially if it means my son finally talks to people instead of himself .”

He laughed, a rare sound that brightened the room. “She’s a lot like you, actually. Zany and Overenthusiastic.”

Before she could speak, he stood and stretched, his meal already gone. Corriander blinked at his empty plate, amazed he’d eaten this fast while carrying on a full conversation.

“Well then,” she muttered to herself as he headed for the door, “I suppose I’d better start packing his things. At this rate, he might disappear before the sun sets.”

As the door closed, she lingered a while longer, staring out the window. Her son had returned, but the world was already calling him back.

***

The carriage rolled into the town of Toa just as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the cobblestone streets crimson. Hyperion stepped off, stretching his legs and brushing the dust from his cloak.

Toa was loud, bright, and alive. He had been here once before, long ago, and it still carried that strange mix of elegance and chaos.

“I suppose the flashiest, most extravagant building here will be hers,” he murmured, smirking. “She always did have a flair for the dramatic.”

Before he could take another step, a cold hand was on his neck. His lips curved into a knowing smile.

“Seems you’ve improved your stealth,” he said calmly. “But surely you realize I let you get this close on purpose.”

He turned his head slightly, eyes narrowing playfully. “Tell me Ida, have you been waiting all these years just to ambush me, or did you use those remarkable stalking abilities of yours to track my exact arrival?”

The grip on his neck loosened and turned into a tight hug from behind. A soft laugh followed. “You always ruin my grand entrances,” she said, her voice warm, teasing. “But honestly, is that how you greet me after all this time?”

Hyperion sighed. “I haven’t the time for your clinginess, Ida.”

“Oh, but I’ve missed seeing that look on your face when you’re annoyed,” she teased, finally stepping around to face him. Her eyes gleamed in the dim light, full of mischief and intelligence.

She studied him for a moment, expression softening. “So… what brings you here, after abandoning me all those years ago?”

“‘Abandoned’ is a strong word,” he replied, folding his arms. “We simply parted ways. You chose to stay here. And don’t flatter yourself, but you are right this time.”

Ida chuckled. “Typical. You always start with denial.”

They walked together through the lively streets, the scent of roasted meat and perfumes drifting from nearby stalls. When they reached her home, Hyperion wasn’t surprised. It was magnificent; an oversized mansion glittering with polished marble, golden sconces, and carved dragons curling around the pillars.

Hyperion realized then just how much she’d changed. Ida had grown taller, stronger, her features sharpened. She wore fitted black leather pants, a sky-blue blouse adorned with silver embroidery, and a long black scarf coiled around her neck and part of her glistening black hair.

“I know my beauty surpasses any you’ve seen,” she said with a smirk, catching his gaze. “But you could at least try not to stare.”

He arched an eyebrow. “You really haven’t changed.”

“Flattery accepted,” she replied breezily.

“I need you to come with me,” he said bluntly.

The smirk faltered. “Five years apart, and we start with demands?”

“My apologies,” Hyperion replied with a hand over his chest in contrition. “I just believed we had already acquainted ourselves with the playful banter so far, but I'm sorry if you're offended.”

She studied him for a long moment before waving her hands as if blowing off the apology, then sighed dramatically. “Do you need a lackey? A cook? Or perhaps a bodyguard?” she questioned.

“I need a crew member,” he said flatly.

Her eyes widened slightly. “A crew member? You’re serious.”

“As serious as ever,” he said. “I’m going to the mainland.”

Ida leaned back, crossing her legs. “I knew you'd eventually head there but I didn't think you'd come for me. Slight question though...”

“Before you mention it, I know I’m still underage by mainland standards. But that won’t stop me.”

She grinned. “You’re not the only one. I’m still underage too, remember?”

“You look old enough to pass for nineteen,” he said with a hint of sarcasm. “And besides, strength matters more than paperwork.”

“Oh? So you think I look mature?”

He sighed. “You really haven’t learned to listen to full sentences.”

She laughed. A clear, ringing sound that filled the room. “Fine,” she said, standing. “I’ll come with you. But are we recruiting anyone else?”

“No,” he said. “It’ll be better if it’s just us.”

“Bold choice,” she mused. “In that case, we’ll need coin for the trip. You up for a quick mission?”

“That’s exactly what I came for,” he replied. “I want to see if your skills have caught up.”

“Charming as always,” she said with a smirk. “Let’s go then.”

***

They met with an old man at a guild office who offered them a bounty; a horde of chimeras had been sighted near the forest outskirts, terrorizing travelers.

Ida glanced at the parchment and then at Hyperion. “You do know these are third-class chimeras, right?”

He nodded. “Exactly why I chose them. A fair test of how much you've grown.”

The forest greeted them with silence. The kind that swallows sound whole. The deeper they went, the more the scent of blood filled the air. Soon, the green grass turned black, soaked in chimeras blood. Dozens of dead chimeras lay scattered around, their bodies twisted and torn apart.

“This wasn’t done by hunters,” Ida whispered. “Something else killed them.”

Hyperion knelt beside one, pressing his palm against the earth. He could feel it, an aura, foul and heavy.

“It’s still nearby,” he said.

He closed his eyes, expanding his range art. The surrounding magical energy stretching outward like invisible threads through the forest.

And then he felt it.

Far away, but not far enough. A chimera stirred, its energy sharp and vile.

“It found us,” Hyperion said quietly, standing and unsheathing his weapon. “And it’s coming fast.”

Ida grinned, her hand glowing with blue fire. “Perfect. I was getting bored anyway.”