Chapter 20:

I walked back to the tavern slowly, the weight of my earlier outburst still pressing heavily on my shoulders. The forest was quieter now, the sun sinking lower in the sky and painting everything in muted gold.

By the time I reached the tavern door, my steps felt hesitant. Part of me wanted to stay outside, to avoid facing Xenos and whatever mess of emotions was waiting for me. But I couldn't avoid him forever—not if I was going to keep my promise to cure him.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open and stepped inside.

He was there, of course. Standing by the bar, arms crossed, his usual scowl fixed firmly on his face.

"You're back," he said, his voice clipped. "Do you have any idea how reckless you—"

"Oh, save it, Xenos!" I snapped, my earlier frustration flaring back to life. "I'm not in the mood for another lecture."

"Not in the mood?" He took a step forward, his dark eyes narrowing. "You stormed out like a child and ran into the forest alone. Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?"

"I can take care of myself!" I shot back, glaring at him. "I don't need you hovering over me like some overprotective—"

"Like someone who actually cares about what happens to you?" he cut in, his voice sharp.

The words hit me harder than I wanted to admit, and for a moment, I couldn't think of a response. My hands clenched into fists, and before I could stop myself, I grabbed a pillow from the couch and hurled it at him.

It hit him square in the chest, and he blinked, momentarily stunned.

"Stop trying to control everything!" I yelled, my voice shaking with anger and something else I didn't want to name.

And then I ran—up the stairs, down the hall, and into my room. I slammed the door behind me and leaned against it, my chest heaving.

The pillow toss had been childish, sure, but it was better than saying something I couldn't take back.

I pressed my hands against my face, letting out a long, shaky breath. I'd fought with Xenos before, but this time felt… different. More personal.

Aurora fluttered over to me, her small face full of concern. "Sage…"

"I don't want to talk about it," I muttered, sliding down to sit on the floor.

But even as I said the words, my mind replayed the fight—and the way his voice softened, just for a moment, when he said he cared.

I groaned and pushed myself off the floor, brushing off the overwhelming wave of emotions that had taken over me. Something felt... off. I couldn't keep spiraling like this.

I turned to Aurora, who hovered near the bed, her little wings flickering nervously. "Aurora," I said softly, my voice steadier now. "Can you do me a favor?"

Her wings perked up. "What is it, Sage?"

I hesitated for a moment. "Can you go to the fairy's forest and get the calabar beans for me? It's safer for you than it is for me out there right now. I'll stay here and... make things right with Xenos."

Aurora tilted her head, considering. "You sure you'll be okay?"

"Yeah," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "I need to handle things here first. And you're quicker than me anyway."

She nodded. "Alright. I'll be back as soon as I can. Just... don't throw any more pillows while I'm gone." She gave me a pointed look before fluttering out the window.

I sighed and turned back to the room, but a sharp cramp suddenly hit me, making me double over slightly.

"What now?" I muttered, clutching my stomach.

The discomfort wasn't unfamiliar—it felt oddly familiar, actually. My brain clicked into place as realization dawned on me.

No. Not now.

I rushed to the bathroom, and sure enough, my suspicion was confirmed. My period. The first one since I'd been here.

"Great," I muttered, half in frustration and half in relief. At least it explained the mood swings, the heightened emotions, and the sudden temper.

Thankfully, I'd packed pads from the human world before coming here. I dug through my bag, silently thanking my past self for thinking ahead.

Once I was cleaned up and feeling slightly more human, I leaned against the bathroom sink and looked at my reflection in the mirror.

"Alright, Sage," I whispered to myself. "Get it together. You've got a dragon to make up with and a promise to keep."

I took a deep breath, bracing myself for what was to come. The day wasn't over yet.

I made my way to Xenos's office, my steps hesitant but determined. My hand hovered near the door for a moment before I gathered enough courage to knock softly.

"Come in," his deep voice called from inside.

I pushed the door open, stepping into the room. Xenos was at his desk, a pen in hand and a stack of papers in front of him. He didn't look up right away, but his jaw tensed, and I could tell he knew it was me.

I cleared my throat, my voice quiet. "Xenos…"

He finally glanced up, his sharp eyes meeting mine. For a moment, I forgot what I wanted to say.

"I'm sorry," I began, my words tumbling out faster than I intended. "I shouldn't have stormed out like that. I was angry, and I—"

"Sage." He raised a hand, stopping me mid-sentence. "You don't need to apologize."

I blinked, caught off guard. "But—"

"I already forgave you," he said simply, leaning back in his chair. His tone was calm, as if my outburst earlier hadn't fazed him at all. "You had every right to be upset."

I swallowed, unsure how to respond. For a moment, the room was filled with silence, except for the faint scratching of his pen as he signed something on the paper in front of him.

"I…" I hesitated, but I knew I had to say it. "I promise you, Xenos. I will cure you of this curse. No matter what it takes."

His hand froze mid-movement, and he looked up at me again. This time, his expression softened, the usual hardness in his gaze melting into something gentler.

"Sage," he said, his voice quieter now. "You don't have to—"

"I want to," I interrupted, stepping closer to his desk. "You've carried this curse for so long, and I know it's taken so much from you. You don't deserve that. I'll fix this. I promise."

His lips twitched, almost forming a smile, but he quickly masked it by returning his focus to his papers. "You're stubborn," he muttered under his breath, though there was no malice in his tone.

I smiled faintly. "I've been told that before."

For the first time since I'd entered the office, the tension in the air eased. It wasn't much, but it was a start. And that was enough for now.

Alohi barged into the office without so much as a knock, her exhaustion evident as she tossed a stack of papers onto Xenos's desk. "Here," she said bluntly. "Citrus wants these done by tomorrow. Have fun with that."

Xenos raised an eyebrow but said nothing, glancing at the paperwork with a look that could curdle milk.

I frowned, confused. "Wait, why does Citrus want you to do paperwork? Isn't he…just some guy who follows Mortis around?"

Alohi plopped herself into a chair with an exaggerated groan, kicking her feet up on the armrest. "Oh, sweet summer child," she said, rubbing her temples. "Let me educate you. Since Mortis—that snake of a fake Smokey—took over Elysion Spire, he decided to make Citrus his chief enforcer. His favorite little puppet, running the show on the surface while Mortis plots in the shadows."

My jaw dropped. "So…Citrus is working for him directly?"

Alohi snorted. "Directly? More like proudly. The guy's drunk on power. He's not just working for Mortis; he's living for it. And he's more than happy to make everyone else miserable while he plays boss." She gestured dramatically toward the stack of papers. "Case in point."

Xenos muttered something I couldn't catch, flipping through the documents with a scowl. "He's not running anything. He's just another pawn Mortis keeps around to manage his dirty work."

"That's ridiculous," I said, anger rising in my chest. "How can people let someone like that control everything? Doesn't anyone fight back?"

Alohi smirked darkly. "Oh, plenty of people want to fight back, but it's kind of hard when Mortis is pulling all the strings. Citrus might be insufferable, but he's not dumb. He keeps everyone in line just enough to avoid rebellion."

I crossed my arms, frustration boiling over. "Then we'll just have to deal with him."

Xenos's gaze snapped to me, his expression unreadable. For a moment, the room was silent except for the faint rustle of the papers in his hands. Then, almost imperceptibly, he nodded.

Alohi stretched lazily, standing up with a dramatic sigh. "Well, that's enough doom and gloom for me tonight. Xenos, don't let Citrus get under your skin too much. He thrives on making other people's lives hell. Don't give him the satisfaction."

She ruffled my hair as she passed, earning an annoyed swat at her hand. Pausing in the doorway, she threw a cheeky grin over her shoulder. "Goodnight, lovebirds! Try not to kill each other while I'm gone."

Xenos groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as she disappeared down the hall.

I turned back to him, ignoring the heat creeping into my cheeks. "Citrus might be Mortis's puppet, but he's just another obstacle. We'll deal with him—and Mortis too."

Xenos's lips pressed into a thin line. "You're too reckless sometimes, Sage," he muttered, but his tone wasn't harsh.

"Maybe," I admitted, standing taller. "But I'm not wrong."

For a split second, his gaze softened, but it was gone just as quickly. He turned back to the papers, and I left the room, determination burning in my chest. Citrus might think he had the upper hand, but he wouldn't for long.

When I returned to my room, the faint glow of moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft light on Aurora, who was perched on my desk. She chirped softly as I approached, and my gaze fell to the small pouch beside her.

"The beans," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. Aurora had done it. Somehow, she'd gone to the fairy's forest and retrieved the calabar beans.

Carefully, I picked up the pouch and opened it. The beans inside gleamed dark and smooth, holding a strange, almost ominous energy. I gently placed them into a small glass box from my desk drawer, sealing it tightly. My school bag was sitting in the corner of the room, waiting for the inevitable return to routine. I slid the box inside, tucking it securely between my books and notes.

Aurora fluttered to my shoulder, nuzzling against my cheek as if sensing the weight of my thoughts. "Thank you," I whispered to her, stroking her feathers. She cooed in response, a small comfort after the storm of emotions I'd been through.

I climbed into bed, exhaustion finally catching up to me. Tomorrow, life would return to something resembling normal—classes, studies, and the strange reality of being the chosen one. Yet, as I stared at the ceiling, I couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of purpose.

With a deep breath, I closed my eyes, letting sleep pull me under. Tomorrow was a new day, and I would face it with everything I had. After all, I still had promises to keep—and curses to break.