Iron Fortress
As the door creaked open, a rush of familiar scents enveloped him, a blend of various herbs that beckoned him to go further. The intensity of it required his senses to acclimate, as his currently sensitive nose faced the onslaught of the heavy aroma.
Beyond the threshold stood a wooden counter, separating him from a woman whose eyes held an enchantment of her own. It was as if they possessed a magical power, radiating a love so profound it could mend even the deepest wounds of a corrupted country. Her chestnut hair, matching Orion's, cascaded down beneath the countertop, leaving its end an unsolved mystery.
"Welcome home, sweetie," Her voice rang out, weaving a tender spell that tugged at Orion's heartstrings. "Would you be a dear and get those things you brought to your father?"
The sound of his mother's voice, a voice he longed to hear for what felt like an eternity, sent Orion spiraling down a vortex of complex emotions. Every fiber of his being yearned to believe this encounter to be real and not just a figment of his isolation. But a part of him hesitated, fearing that approaching the image of his mother might shatter the fragile illusion he held dear.
"What troubles you, sweetheart?" Her steps drew nearer, but Orion remained frozen, an immovable statue in the face of his desires. With a mother's instinct, she detected the conflicting emotions reflected in his hollow gaze. Doubt and fear collided with a sense of relief and closure.
"It's not real, is it?" Orion asked in a tone indifferent to emotion, the world around him fading to black. At that moment, the lines between reality and illusion blurred, as if torn from the pages of an ethereal tale, leaving Orion suspended in the space between truth and longing.
"What are you talking about, Orion?" A gentle warmth wrapped around his shoulder, pulling him from the depths of the void into the light. As a wave of color illuminated the world around him, the warmth wrapped around him, a mother's embrace.
Oceanic waves of feelings surged through Orion, their force equaling mountain-crushing tides. They surfaced the moment his mother wrapped her slender arms around his unmoving self, but couldn't breach the fortress he had built in the chasm of darkness.
He felt it all. The closure of home at his mother's feather-like words, the heart-wrenching stings of being unable to tell her what happened to their son. But no amount of joy made it past his iron walls, leaving his face blank as he entered.
"Nothing, I just had a meeting with a strange Thimber," Orion said, his voice steady, but heart shaking.
"Oh, aren't they a rather hidden bunch?" His mother asked, tightening her grasp on him. "You have to tell me about it later." With a soft peck on his cheek, she let go of her child and returned to her duties. Their place never lacked customers to tend to.
For a short while, he stood there unmoving, the events since his entrance washing over him once more. The anticipation he built up for so long turned out to be all that, a lackluster lie. Although his words weren't wrong, they didn't tell the whole story.
A voice appeared in his head, originating from the book buckled to his belt. "Orion, you will find time for that," Lux said, casting his dark clouds beyond the horizon. "They would only worry if they knew."
With no further delay, Orion made his way toward the workshop, a large room separated from the rest of the house by a wide brick arch. In his head, the looming prospect of hiding something from his family gnawed, making his steps slow and more unsteady than needed.
The workshop was a sanctuary of alchemy, filled with tools, materials, and unfinished concoctions sewn across the tables and shelves. The scent of freshly cut kindling mingled with the medical whiffs of herbs, forming a symphony of familiarity and unexpressed comfort in Orion's hazy thoughts.
His father, a tall man with silver hair and calloused hands, stood at a workbench, focused on the bronze cauldron on top. The burning cinders underneath charred the bottom, creating a mysterious blend of colors. The youthful spirit in his eyes didn't match their sluggish lids, veiling his age behind a curtain of uncertainty.
"Don't overdo it again, Aarom," said one of his coworkers, a young woman with blonde hair neatly tucked into a bun. "You don't want your children to worry."
Under his father's control, the fire burnt with even greater force, bringing waves of heat even to Orion's frozen stature. "Don't you worry, Cindey," His parent said with a beaming smile, his hands dancing around the cauldron. With a light wave of his fingers, the lid flung into the air, releasing a burst of fragrances.
"This right here will solve my illness," He said, catching the lid, and finishing his flamboyant presentation.
The long sought-after sight of his father made it hard for Orion to be mad at him. "You said that last time too," He said, walking past the two rows of workbenches in front of his father's. "You know what happened."
"If it isn't my boy! Look what your dad just made," With a blinding expression, he held out his just-finished medicine vial. The bubbling green liquid inside had streaks of red and black breaking the homogeneous appearance. "I'll make you take back what you said. Want to bet?"
"Winner attends the next Alchade?" Orion asked, seeing the poster behind his father. The yearly alchemy competition would be held in a week's time, perfect for him to find his place in their realm again. Also, how sad it may be, his father was destined to lose, so he could ask for anything.
"You're on! Got the things I asked for?" Aarom scanned Orion's basket, his legs shaking.
"All here," Orion said, handing the bag to his restless father. Aarom snatched the contents at a speed too fast for the eye to see, causing the audience to blink a few times. After giving them a quick inspection, his father gave him a big thumbs up before wordlessly heading back to work.
Orion let the matter rest, thinking that it was for the better, but the voice beside him didn't share that. "More a father to his work, than his real children," Cindey scoffed, turning her head toward the expressionless Orion. "From woman to man, don't take that attribute of his." She walked off, leaving the boy with little to no romantic experience behind in confusion.
After checking the front desk and seeing his mother still stormed by customers, Orion made his way toward his room. He walked past the workshop and up a flight of stairs, arriving at a narrow, empty hallway. From there, four doors led to the different personal spaces of the house.
Creaking floorboards accompanied his every step, vanishing as he stopped in front of a wooden door with a sign reading "Orion" on it. In all this time, the hinge had yet to be repaired. Expected, considering the vast difference the two realms had. He gave it a push, opening the door to his own little space.
His bed, a simple wooden frame topped by a well-worn mattress, stood against the far wall. Adorned by a bland grey blanked, it didn't stick out more than necessary.
A desk occupied one corner, covered with parchment, a quill, and ink, alongside several unfinished books. When entering, he noticed a little crack in the wooden floor beneath it, something he hadn't seen there before.
Opposite the desk stood a proud bookshelf, its rows filled with all kinds of different sources of knowledge. From ancient tomes of alchemy and magic, he haggled for in the streets, to contemporary works of fiction about magic and alchemy. It was a treasure trove for his interests, those being evident by the genres they depicted.
Orion crossed his room and settled onto the bed, its known comfort providing slight relief. "It doesn't feel like I am back," he said, gazing at the faint stars visible through his window.
"It's because you haven't," Lux spoke, its figure breaking free from the belt and floating in front of him. "Past Orion died that day and will never return. But you, future Orion, came here to avenge him." A short break slipped between its words, giving Orion time to think about it.
"You are not, and will never be, the same as who you once were. You tomorrow may as well differ vastly from you today," Lux continued, its words gaining in profound wisdom. "Orion, you are different, yet similar to your past. You share your ideas, interests, and flaws, making you almost unchanged."
"I guess."
"Except for your lack of magic, inability to express yourself, the constant slur of words, but who mentions that?"
"Screw you," Orion said, proving two of Lux's remarks. He considered thanking it for its uplifting but chose not to in the end, closing his eyes instead. After an eternity of a day came to an end, Orion fell into the feathers of sleep for the first time in a while.