《Crux of Lore: Runes of a Grimoire》


 Prologue

    "Leif Village is under attack, Sire!" One of the knights stood before King Elwood of Medea, delivering the dreadful news. King Elwood¡¯s fiery red hair and electric pale blue eyes were renowned throughout the kingdom. "We cannot hold Sienna¡¯s men back any longer!"


    King Elwood ruffled the cape hanging off his shoulder as he hastily led the way to a stone balcony overlooking the village. The skies were thick with dark clouds, and the two moons hid beyond the horizon, casting a veil of trepidation over Elwood¡¯s kingdom. Fires spread rapidly throughout the village, and the screams of his people echoed menacingly in Elwood¡¯s ears. From a distance, he could see an army parading toward the village, swords at the ready. Thousands of men carried torches, lighting their way through the forest path, their feet pounding the ground in perfect unison.


    "Sound the warning bells and gather as many men as you can. Where is my son? Where is Lug?" King Elwood exchanged a doomed look with his most loyal knight and friend.


    "He¡¯s already at the gate, Sire, with a small company of men."


    "No!" Elwood¡¯s voice rang out. "I do not wish for him to engage in this battle. Go find Eilah. Tell her that I require her help and ask for her forgiveness. I need her to protect Lug the best way she knows how. When the time is right, I hope Lug will return as king of Medea. Go find her¡­ go now!"


    "Sire, may I speak freely?" the knight asked resolutely.


    King Elwood nodded absentmindedly.


    "My lord, it is my duty to remind you that you banished her from these lands. Surely, you haven¡¯t forgotten the murder of King Chaulekai of Basil?"


    "I see now that I misjudged Eilah and wrongly accused her of that crime. I remember watching Sienna as she grew up¡ªshe is just like her father. Chaulekai and Sienna alike were greedy. They craved power, a power that only brings chaos and bloodshed. Sienna framed Eilah, after all. She murdered her own father, the king, to get her hands on my kingdom¡ªand my son¡­" Elwood paused momentarily, his eyes clouded with regret. "Go find Eilah now and take Lug with you. Eilah will know how to keep my beloved son safe. If I never see him again, tell him that I love him. I may have done things in his lifetime that seemed cruel, but they were always for him. May my legacy live on through my son."


    "Do you fear the battle will end with your death, Sire?" the knight asked, concern lacing his words.


    Elwood didn¡¯t answer directly. Instead, his voice lowered. "I only remember the promise I made Eilah swear many years ago when we first met. I made her swear to protect Lug in any way she saw fit. I can only hope she keeps that promise, despite the way I treated her."


    The knight let the question remain unanswered, accepting the king¡¯s words with a solemn nod. Bowing deeply, he turned to fulfill Elwood¡¯s bidding.


    "Rahm," the king said abruptly, stopping him just before he departed, "please be careful. I hear she may be in the Andorra Ruins. Just get Lug to Eilah¡ªno matter what."Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    The king swung his sword from its sheath, pointing it down at his side, ready to fight until his last breath. As Rahm departed, he called back one final reassurance.


    "I will defend him, even with my last breath, Sire¡ªas I would for you."


    Without another moment¡¯s hesitation, Rahm set out to fulfill the king¡¯s will.


    ¡­¡­


    In a barren land of ruins, Rahm and Prince Lug traversed a dirt path littered with debris and the remnants of ancient stone walls. The soil was lifeless, a wasteland devoid of any growth. Above them, the two moons were full, their silvery glow casting an eerie light upon the desolate surroundings. Though crumbling and overtaken by time, the ruins still exuded an elegance of a civilization lost over a millennium ago.


    "What is this all about? Why does my father want us to find Eilah? What can she do that I cannot accomplish with our knights? We have the finest soldiers in all of Gaia, yet here we are in no-man¡¯s land. What happens if we return and everything is engulfed in flames? I thought Father banished Eilah! Can he make up his mind?" Lug rambled, his frustration bubbling over.


    Rahm¡¯s calm voice cut through his complaints. "I am only following the king¡¯s orders, my Prince. I do not presume to understand his reasons."


    Rahm marched alongside the prince with measured strides. One hand rested firmly on the hilt of his sword, while the other held his horse¡¯s reins. Both men wore their finest battle tunics¡ªblack with gold inlays that gleamed under the moonlight. Prince Lug¡¯s flame-red hair stood in stark contrast against the dark attire, his green cape draping elegantly over his shoulders. The clinking of chainmail echoed through the ruins, a lone sound in the oppressive silence.


    The horses, though familiar in appearance, were otherworldly. They had the bodies of Earthly steeds but bore tough, reptilian skin and snake-like tails that flicked ominously. The beasts moved expertly over the rugged terrain, leaving the ruins behind as fog began to roll in. The clouds thickened, obscuring the moonlight and turning the path ahead into a shadowy blur.


    Suddenly, Lug tensed. His hand instinctively fell to his sword. "Did you hear that, Rahm?" he asked sharply, his voice a hushed whisper.


    Rahm halted. From up ahead came the faint sound of movement¡ªa disturbance emanating from a small wooden shack nestled among the ruins. The structure looked out of place, its walls riddled with holes and its roof patched with hay and twigs. It leaned precariously, as though it might collapse at any moment. A gaping entrance yawned darkly, half-covered by a crooked wooden board.


    The two men stopped at the base of the steps, their hands on their swords.


    "Who among the knights of Medea dares to roam the Andorra Ruins?" A girl¡¯s voice floated out from the darkness, ethereal and sharp.


    Rahm stepped forward, sword drawn. "¡¯Tis I, Sir Rahm of Medea, with Prince Lug Elwood. We have important business in these parts¡ªwe seek an immortal named Eilah. By whose authority do you question us?"


    The voice responded, laced with suspicion. "By whose authority do you seek Eilah?"


    "King Elwood himself sent us," Rahm proclaimed, his voice steady. "Do you know where she resides?"


    A silence followed, deep and unnerving, before Lug spoke. "Are you Eilah, milady? You certainly sound like her."


    From within the shadows, there was movement. Slowly, a figure emerged into the doorway. Lug¡¯s breath caught in his throat. A woman stood there, her head tilted down, her silhouette both commanding and graceful. When she lifted her gaze, teal-colored eyes like diamonds gleamed from the darkness. The very air seemed to shift around her, her presence more precious than gold or rubies.


    "I am whom you seek," she said softly, her voice carrying with it an unspoken power.

 New Beginnings

    ¡°Connor! What¡¯s up! First day of senior year¡ªit¡¯s gonna be epic! Our reputation for sports has brought us to the top. If it weren¡¯t for that pep talk you gave me freshman year about signing up for football, we¡¯d never be this popular. HAHA!¡± Morgan bellowed as he spotted Connor in the gymnasium.


    Morgan ran a hand through his spiked, sandy blond hair after dropping his bag on the gym floor. Connor nodded toward a few varsity teammates passing by on their way to join their cheerleader girlfriends. Morgan elbowed Connor, tilting his head toward a group of cheerleaders walking by, each holding a notepad and pastel-colored gel pens.


    ¡°Good morning, ladies,¡± Morgan said, admiring their sway as they passed.


    The girls smiled shyly, their cheeks burning bright red. Connor whistled at his girlfriend, a brunette with bouncy curls, and playfully gave her a squeeze as she passed. She squealed in surprise before planting a quick kiss on his lips. With a wink, she joined her friends, leaving Connor grinning¡ªhe knew she¡¯d be talking about him all morning.


    ¡°Kirsten is as lively as ever,¡± remarked Gabe, coming up behind Connor.


    Gabe was slightly shorter than Connor and Morgan, but his lean build made him quick on the field. Unlike the two bruising linemen, Gabe¡¯s strength lay in speed and precision. His straight blond hair was lighter than Morgan¡¯s and always neatly combed.


    Connor fist-bumped Gabe. ¡°How was your summer? Morgan and I hit Busch Gardens. You should¡¯ve come with us.¡±


    ¡°You know how my gran is¡ªwhen she¡¯s not traveling the world, she¡¯s home making my life miserable,¡± Gabe replied with a sigh. ¡°What about you and Kirsten? Didn¡¯t see you two hanging out much over the break.¡±


    Connor shrugged. ¡°Nah, not really. I didn¡¯t even call her. She texted me a few times, especially during that sleepover with Lindsey and Paige. She¡¯s drop-dead gorgeous, but, man, she can be a little much sometimes.¡±


    ¡°Word is, she wants to take things to the next level,¡± Gabe said with a teasing grin. ¡°You know how jealous she gets¡ªshe¡¯s probably got a hit list of every girl you¡¯ve flirted with when she¡¯s not around.¡±


    Connor rolled his eyes. ¡°Not my fault girls like me. How am I supposed to pick just one? Still, I care about Kirsten. She¡¯s cute, but she¡¯s so clingy sometimes. What should I do?¡±


    Morgan laughed. ¡°Here¡¯s an idea¡ªdo something about that red hair. It blinds me every time I see you.¡±


    Connor smirked and gave Morgan a playful shove. ¡°Shut up.¡±


    The school bell rang, sending students stampeding through the gym. ¡°See you guys at tryouts,¡± Connor called. ¡°Coach put me in charge. Being captain has its perks, so don¡¯t be late.¡± He turned to the crowd and shouted, ¡°GO ROYAL BLUE PYTHONS!¡±


    Morgan and Connor exchanged their signature handshake, both yelling, ¡°WE¡¯RE NUMBER ONE!¡± before splitting up for their first classes.


    Connor made his way through the bustling halls, memories of his time at the school flooding back. Walking through these corridors felt second nature after three years. For others, navigating the halls was a daily struggle, but for Connor, it was like parting the Red Sea. His good looks and effortless charm cleared a path, with friends greeting him and outcasts steering clear.


    Despite his popularity, Connor¡¯s reputation for lashing out at anyone who disrespected him ensured he wasn¡¯t to be trifled with.


    Connor wandered into his English class, spotting two old middle school friends, Eli and Chandler. Seeing them brought back faint memories of hanging out with Morgan and the two boys back in the day.


    ¡°Yo, Jacob!¡± Connor greeted a baseball teammate already seated.


    ¡°Hey, Connor!¡± Jacob stood and gestured toward his desk. ¡°You want my seat?¡±


    Connor waved him off. ¡°Nah, I¡¯ll take this one. Haven¡¯t seen these guys in a while.¡±


    Eli, a plain-looking boy with brown hair and eyes, smirked. ¡°Long time no see. Wouldn¡¯t you rather sit with your followers, O Great King? You and Morgan haven¡¯t said two words to us since freshman year. What gives?¡±


    ¡°First of all,¡± Connor began, settling into his seat, ¡°I¡¯m here to reconnect, okay? Second, football¡¯s taken up most of my time. Us popular guys don¡¯t have time for kid stuff.¡± He muttered the rest under his breath, Now I remember why I stopped hanging out with these two.


    Chandler, a thin guy Connor vaguely remembered working at the local coffee shop, shot back, ¡°What the hell do you mean by ¡®kid stuff¡¯?¡±


    Connor snickered but didn¡¯t reply. As class began, he focused on the upcoming football tryouts, eager to prove his worth as captain.


    The final bell marked the end of classes, but Connor¡¯s day was far from over. Tryouts loomed, and his mind buzzed with attack strategies and player assessments. After opening the locker room for the team, Connor set to work preparing the field.


    He adjusted the obstacle course, a recreation of the one he¡¯d conquered freshman year. Resting a hand on his hip, he surveyed his work. I need strong, worthy players this year. Coach is too soft on the newbies.


    ¡°Connor!¡± Morgan shouted from across the field, hoisting his bag over his shoulder.


    Morgan and Gabe jogged over, cheering as they approached. Connor glanced at his watch. It was his first day as captain, and every detail needed to be perfect.


    ¡°Tryouts start at 4,¡± he called out. ¡°What are you guys doing here early?¡±


    ¡°Came to help,¡± Morgan said with a shrug. ¡°We¡¯re not late, are we?¡±


    ¡°Tryouts were at 4 freshman year, remember?¡± Connor teased.


    ¡°Oh, sorry¡ªhard to recall life before royalty.¡± Morgan grinned.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Connor turned to face the incoming crowd¡ªa mix of eager freshmen, sophomores, and even a few nervous seniors. Eli and Chandler were among the group. They¡¯re trying out? Interesting.


    ¡°Alright, worms,¡± Connor barked, stepping forward like a king addressing his court. ¡°You¡¯re mine now. Let¡¯s begin!¡±


    ¡­¡­


    Connor spent the rest of the night at home deliberating over who would make the football team. Nothing else mattered to him; he had to prove that he was a natural-born leader. He craved the respect of his peers and, if respect wasn¡¯t possible, their fear. Obsessed with perfection, he fell asleep pondering who would make the cut.


    The next morning, Connor burst through the front lobby doors, beaming with excitement. He dropped into his seat in English class with a weighty thud, groaning over his lack of sleep and the challenges of the tryouts. Though they hadn¡¯t gone as smoothly as he¡¯d hoped, Connor remained confident that the new recruits could improve with practice.


    Running his finger down the list of names, he crossed out those who didn¡¯t meet his expectations. A whole page of names had already been eliminated the night before.


    Eli and Chandler slipped into the room, sneaking glances at Connor as he stuffed the final list into his backpack. Chandler leaned over cautiously. ¡°Made any decisions yet? Did we make the team?¡±


    Connor shot him a glance, irritation seeping into his voice. ¡°I¡¯ve made some cuts. I¡¯ll post the final results when I¡¯m ready.¡±


    Eli, less reserved, leaned forward, confronting Connor. ¡°What¡¯s gotten into you? You used to be a decent guy.¡± His gaze hardened with discontent.


    Connor smirked, leaning back in his chair. ¡°I grew up, Eli. You two should try it. You¡¯re high schoolers, aren¡¯t you? Results will be up by lunch. You¡¯ll find out then¡ªalong with everyone else who worked hard at tryouts yesterday.¡±


    A girl, whom Connor recognized as Jacob¡¯s girlfriend, hip-bumped Chandler¡¯s chair. ¡°Oh!¡± she gasped, covering her mouth in mock surprise.


    ¡°HEY!¡± Eli shot back furiously. ¡°You¡¯re supposed to say excuse me! Manners won¡¯t kill you, you jerk.¡±


    Jacob loomed over Eli, towering like a mountain. ¡°Don¡¯t talk to my girlfriend like that,¡± he growled, his sheer presence prompting Eli to shrink back into his chair.


    Connor chuckled, addressing Jacob. ¡°He¡¯s a little wimp, Jake. I¡¯ll see if I can toughen him up for you. At least then you¡¯d have a real challenge.¡±


    Jacob laughed, joining Connor in mocking Eli and Chandler. Tears brimmed in their eyes as Connor and Jacob rattled off every dorky trait they could find in the two boys.


    During lunch, Connor stopped by Coach Bowers¡¯ classroom. The coach, who doubled as the health and P.E. teacher, was notorious for pushing players to their limits on the field.


    Connor knocked on the door. ¡°Coach, got a minute?¡±


    Coach Bowers, a muscular man with a shiny bald head, turned from the whiteboard, his face wrinkling with a warm smile. ¡°Connor! I always have time for my best football captain. What¡¯s up?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve got the final team list,¡± Connor said, holding up the clipboard. ¡°Thought I¡¯d let you review it before I post it.¡±


    Coach nodded approvingly. ¡°Connor, you¡¯re a good kid. I trust your decisions. Go ahead and post it.¡±


    Connor hesitated, frowning slightly. ¡°Yeah, but I¡¯ve still got one spot left to fill.¡±


    Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, Coach replied, ¡°Give it a few weeks. See how the team works out. There¡¯s plenty of talent to get through the first game. Remember, you¡¯re the captain now. Every decision you make will impact the team.¡± He clapped Connor on the shoulder, his confidence evident.


    Connor gave a half-hearted smile. ¡°Will do, Coach. See you on the field.¡±


    Walking through the crowded hallways, Connor made his way to the bulletin board. He pinned the final team list, drawing the attention of a swarm of eager boys behind him. As soon as he stepped away, they crowded the board, scanning for their names.


    Connor chuckled to himself and headed toward the lunchroom. He was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he didn¡¯t notice the woman in front of him until he bumped into her.


    ¡°Oh, sorry, Miss¡­ I didn¡¯t see you there,¡± he said, startled.


    The woman squealed softly, her pitch so high that Connor wondered if anyone else even heard it. She smiled up at him, and his heart skipped a beat.


    Her beauty was unparalleled, unlike anyone he¡¯d ever seen. Her porcelain skin seemed to glow, and her ruby-red hair, streaked with white, was braided elegantly. She wore a short black skirt that, by Connor¡¯s judgment, wouldn¡¯t pass the school dress code. Her peach-colored eyes glimmered, making him blink to ensure he wasn¡¯t imagining things.


    ¡°Well, what luck,¡± she said, her voice smooth and melodious. ¡°You must be Connor. Connor Elwood.¡±


    Adjusting the butterfly glasses perched on her nose, she smiled like an innocent rose. Connor noted her seductive charm, her presence almost hypnotic.


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m Connor,¡± he replied, trying to steady his voice. ¡°Have we met before?¡±


    She placed a perfectly manicured nail to her lips, a playful gesture. ¡°We will meet again soon enough,¡± she purred. ¡°Well now, Connor, I hope to see you around. Tah!¡± She brushed her fingers lightly against his shoulder as she walked away, giggling softly.


    Weeks of grueling practice passed, and with only a week left until the first big game, Connor drove the new recruits to their limits. He was determined to mold them into champions. When not on the field, he stuck to his routine of making out with Kirsten under the bleachers.


    Over time, Connor found new ways to torment Eli and Chandler, enlisting veteran players to join in the bullying. He stuffed Chandler into lockers and dunked Eli¡¯s head in bathroom sinks, but neither boy fought back. Their helplessness only spurred Connor¡¯s confidence.


    Despite his antics, the looming game kept him focused. Though he knew it would be a tough win, Connor¡¯s belief in his team¡ªand his leadership¡ªremained unshaken.


    One evening, a week before the game, Connor came home to find his mother sitting alone at the kitchen table, sipping tea. As usual, he greeted her briefly, distracted by a text from Coach Bowers.


    ¡°Connor, I need to talk to you,¡± his mom said, clearing her throat nervously. ¡°Can you sit for a minute?¡±


    He shrugged and dropped into the chair across from her.


    ¡°You remember me telling you about your younger brother?¡± she asked carefully, scooting her chair closer.


    Connor nodded absentmindedly, still texting. ¡°Yeah, Mom. What about it?¡±


    ¡°I got a call today. He¡¯s been taken into custody by child protective services. His father passed away suddenly, and your stepfather and I agreed to take him in. He¡¯ll be arriving tomorrow.¡±


    Connor barely registered her words until she snapped, ¡°Put the phone down while I¡¯m talking to you!¡±


    He tossed the phone onto the table with a scowl. ¡°Fine. But couldn¡¯t this wait?¡±


    She sighed, her voice heavy. ¡°Connor, this is a big change for all of us¡ªespecially for him. He¡¯s been through a lot. I just need you to give him a chance.¡±


    Connor stood abruptly, grabbing his phone. ¡°Are we done now?¡±


    As he walked toward the living room, she called after him. ¡°Don¡¯t forget¡ªhe¡¯ll be here tomorrow around five or six!¡±


    ¡­¡­


    Connor, Morgan, and Gabe goof off in the locker room after an intense practice the next day. Amongst the bustling noise of the lockers opening and closing, Connor hears his cell phone start to ring. "Hello, mother...I''m kind of busy right now." Nothing but a scramble of words from his mother came next.


    "What did you say? Meet you where?" Connor tries to drown out the loud racket of the guys by putting a finger in the opposite ear.


    "Meet you at the airport...What?...¡± Connor asks loudly and continues after some words from his mother. "Ok...Whatever... I''ll meet you at the airport."

 Trunk of Secrets

    Sirius


    The plane was cramped, the air heavy with the fading scent of deodorant. A clean, soapy fragrance wafted from an older couple a few rows ahead, while the enormous man seated behind Sirius smelled of sweat and salted peanuts, chomping loudly throughout the flight. The passengers¡ªpeople from all walks of life¡ªseemed to notice the unusual pairing in coach: a business-suited woman sitting beside a quiet, black-haired teenage boy.


    ¡°I promise, you¡¯re going to love your new family,¡± the woman said, her voice brimming with forced enthusiasm. ¡°They¡¯re very nice people, and you won¡¯t have to worry. Your mother sounded so eager to see you, and she says you have a half-brother about your age. Isn¡¯t that exciting?¡± She leaned closer, searching for acknowledgment. ¡°Sirius? Are you listening to me?¡±


    Sirius tilted his head sluggishly, his lifeless eyes barely meeting hers. He offered no response.


    Her smile faltered, but she continued regardless, gathering their luggage as the plane came to a stop. Sirius dragged his feet through the terminal, his gaze flickering briefly to the bustling crowd. The ceiling loomed high above, and everything felt impossibly large¡ªtoo large.


    Big¡­ Everything is gigantic. Even the people seem bigger, he thought, feeling adrift in this new environment.


    The waiting area was packed with faces of all shapes and sizes. Some cast curious glances at Sirius as he stood awkwardly, his posture rigid, his mind swirling. Beside him, the woman¡ªhis temporary guardian¡ªscanned the crowd with unbridled enthusiasm.


    ¡°They¡¯re coming! Your new family is just down the hall. Look¡ªthey even brought you a gift!¡± she said brightly, as if her excitement could somehow inspire his own.


    Sirius squinted down the hallway, the crowd blurring into a sea of strangers. What the hell am I supposed to be looking at? I don¡¯t even know what they look like.


    A woman emerged from the throng, her teary eyes fixed on Sirius. Her simple light-blue dress fluttered slightly as she hurried toward him, her strawberry-blonde hair catching the light. When she finally reached him, she enveloped him in a hug, the faint scent of strawberries filling the air.


    Sirius froze, his arms trembling as he gripped his tattered bag tighter. His breath hitched, but he didn¡¯t move to return the embrace.


    Pulling back, she cupped his face with gentle hands, her fingers brushing a jagged scar along his jawline. Her expression shifted several times¡ªjoy, guilt, wonder¡ªbefore she spoke.


    ¡°You¡¯re so grown up,¡± she whispered, her voice cracking.


    ¡°Ahem¡­ You must be Fancy Burton?¡± the guardian interjected, extending her hand. ¡°Hello, I¡¯m Sheri. It¡¯s so nice to meet you at last.¡±


    Fancy stepped back, releasing Sirius, and shook Sheri¡¯s hand warmly. ¡°Yes. It¡¯s wonderful to finally meet you.¡±


    Fancy gestured toward a tall man standing a few feet behind her. ¡°This is my husband, Winston Burton.¡±


    Winston, imposing in stature with a chiseled jawline, stood with his hands in his pockets, his tailored suit impeccable. His pale blond hair, streaked with white, was neatly combed. His gaze carried a quiet arrogance as he nodded curtly at Sheri.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    ¡°And this,¡± Fancy continued, pulling a teenage boy closer, ¡°is my son, Connor Elwood. He¡¯s your older brother.¡±


    Connor, nearly a head taller than Fancy, bore her features with the striking addition of flaming red hair. He fiddled with his phone, barely sparing Sirius a glance.


    Sheri nudged Sirius gently. ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to say hello to your mother?¡±


    Sirius¡¯s throat tightened. Words swirled in his mind, but none escaped. He glanced at Connor, who was already stepping away, his phone glued to his ear. Fancy¡¯s tearful expression betrayed her hesitation, as if she feared what Sirius might say¡ªor not say.


    Winston sniffed, his nose held high. ¡°What¡¯s his name again?¡±


    ¡°Sirius,¡± Sheri answered promptly. ¡°Sirius Ricci. His middle name is Hector, after his father.¡±


    Winston studied Sirius with a raised eyebrow. ¡°Is he mute?¡±


    Sheri stiffened. ¡°I don¡¯t know, Mr. Burton. He hasn¡¯t spoken much, if at all. I suspect he¡¯s been through a lot¡ªabuse, neglect, or both. I recommend getting him a physical and a psychological evaluation.¡±


    Winston huffed dismissively, launching into a monologue about his charitable endeavors. Fancy, meanwhile, handed Sirius a gift bag, her movements tentative.


    ¡°Sirius,¡± she said softly, lowering her voice so Winston and Connor wouldn¡¯t hear. ¡°I got you something. It¡¯s not much, but it¡¯s special to me. My mother gave it to me when I was young¡ªa dreamcatcher. I used to hang it above my bed. It¡¯s just a little superstition, but I thought it might bring you some peace. Please, just give me a chance.¡±


    Sirius nodded stiffly, clutching the tattered bag slung over his shoulder. Fancy¡¯s attempt to take it from him faltered as she saw his grip tighten. She stepped back, offering him a fragile smile.


    At the upscale restaurant, Sirius sat across from Fancy and Winston at a round table tucked toward the back. The candlelight flickered across their faces, casting long shadows against the walls. Connor had excused himself earlier, claiming other plans.


    Sheri began recounting Sirius¡¯s past to Fancy and Winston, her voice tinged with unease. She described his neglect, the bruises, the drunken rages of his father, Hector. Sirius stared at the flickering candle, feeling the weight of her words but refusing to let his emotions show.


    Fancy clutched the papers Sheri handed her, nodding as she absorbed the details. ¡°Thank you,¡± she said quietly.


    Winston, on the other hand, seemed more concerned with his steak than with Sirius¡¯s plight. ¡°Why wasn¡¯t all of this handled before dropping him into our care?¡± he demanded, his tone sharp.


    Sheri offered a strained smile. ¡°The agency found his next-of-kin quickly, and there wasn¡¯t time. We can arrange for a doctor to visit your home if that¡¯s more convenient.¡±


    Winston waved her off dismissively. ¡°I¡¯ll have Fancy handle it.¡±


    Sirius shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his gaze falling to the gift bag Fancy had given him. The dreamcatcher inside felt like a small, fragile lifeline.


    As the conversation turned to Fancy¡¯s past, her voice faltered. ¡°I¡­I never even held him after he was born. Hector took him from me, claiming he was the key to solving his problems. I begged to see him, but Hector refused. He left me in the hospital parking lot with nothing but excuses. I¡­¡± Her voice broke, and she looked away, tears brimming in her eyes.


    Sirius¡¯s heart ached. He clenched his fists under the table, the scar on his jawline burning as if etched by her words.


    The drive to the Burton home was surreal. The Mediterranean-style house loomed like a palace, its stucco walls glowing in the soft evening light. Sirius stared out the car window, overwhelmed by the sprawling neighborhood of mansions and palm trees.


    Fancy showed him to his room¡ªa dusty attic space with old furniture and a mysterious wooden trunk. Sirius¡¯s fingers tingled as he touched the trunk, sensing a strange energy radiating from it.


    Fancy smiled hesitantly. ¡°It belonged to my first husband, Lug. No one¡¯s ever been able to open it. Welcome home, Sirius.¡±


    Alone in the room, Sirius sank to the floor, his knees pulled to his chest. He waved a hand, whispering words of magic, and his clothes flew into the drawers.


    Please don¡¯t let her see, he thought, fear mingling with exhaustion.


    As sleep claimed him, his last thought lingered on the trunk: There¡¯s something in there. Something powerful.