CHAPTER 15. TILL WE MEET AGAIN.

The village buzzed with life and renewal. With Ivy, Ladrel, and the trio working alongside the villagers, they expanded the settlement, building new homes in preparation for the arrival of Ivy’s people.

Elemental abilities accelerated their efforts—stone molded into sturdy walls, sand fused into smooth bricks, iron bent and shaped for support, and water helped to cool and bond it all together. What might have taken weeks was accomplished in just two days.

That night, a feast was held. The fires roared, laughter echoed, and the stars shimmered above the celebration.

But Damon sat apart from it all, a little distance from the joy, his eyes fixed on the sky.

Ivy found him from afar, walked slowly towards him and quietly sat beside him. She didn’t speak at first, just gently nudged his shoulder. He turned and gave her a small smile.

“The night’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she smiled softly.

“Why’d you sneak out?”

“Not a big fan,” Damon replied. “Apparently, neither is Gwen or Zephyr. I can tell Gwen isn’t in there, and Zephyr’s lying on the roof, hoping it ends.”

Ivy chuckled. “Neither is Ladrel. He’s inside with Selune and the kids.”

“No wonder you weren’t pulled back already,” Damon said with a grin.

Ivy’s smile slowly faded. She lowered her head. “He was always like that before he died... before the bind. After that, he was distant.”

Damon glanced at her, unsure of what to say but knowing he had to say something.

“Oh, right.” Her tone brightened suddenly as her thoughts shifted. She lifted her head with a wide smile. “How were you able to... you know, put the binding back in place?” She remembered the moment—his hand on her forehead, Ladrel unconscious beside her.

“I’ve heard of undoing a binding,” she murmured, “but not… rebinding one that was already undone”

Damon smiled gently. “I didn’t do it. You did.”

Ivy blinked. “What?”

“When you lost control,” Damon said, “you wanted to go back to how it was. That created a crack. All I did was find it, expand it... and create a new bind. One that isn’t connected to your soul.”

Ivy narrowed her eyes. “That’s all you did?”

Damon nodded. “Yeah.”

“So let me get this straight,” Ivy said slowly. “I wanted the bind back, and that created a tiny crack. And all you did was expand it and forge an entirely new binding that bypassed the soul itself?”

“Yup,” he replied with a calm shrug.

Ivy stared at him. “You’re aware I only made a crack—probably just a thin little line.”

“Without that line,” Damon chuckled, “none of it would’ve worked.”

Ivy chuckled under her breath. “Thank you.”

Damon just smiled, eyes still on the stars.

---

The next morning arrived too soon.

Dawn painted the sky gold as the trio prepared to leave once more.

Their rest had ended.

Myrren and her sister ran out and clung to their legs. “Please don’t go,” they pleaded, while the villagers stood gathered to see them off.

Damon crouched down, one knee to the ground, his large bag slung over his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you gonna come back?” Lori asked.

“As fate has it, we will definitely meet again,” Damon smiled. “So don’t say goodbye, just yet, instead—say, ‘Till we meet again.’”

Their eyes lit up with joy.

“So you grow up strong, okay?” Damon said, ruffling their hair. “I leave you three to protect this village.”

The girls nodded, grinning proudly.

He turned to Lori and Velira and patted them each on the head. “You were a huge help rebuilding the village—without your sand and water, I didn't think we could have done it that fast."

They beamed warmly.

Then he faced Myrren. “Try not to burn things down. Fire’s a tough one to control.”

“I won’t,” she said quickly—and then her palms burst into flames. She stared at them, unsure how to put them out.

Damon gently took her hands, a little smoke curling up as he extinguished the fire.

“Little by little,” he smiled, “you’ll get there.”

She immediately threw her arms around him. “Thank you, for keeping your promise.”

Damon rose and turned to leave with Gwen and Zephyr.

Just then, a whip of sand struck the back of Zephyr’s head. He turned around slowly.

Lori stood there, arms crossed. “ You'd better come back too.”

Zephyr smiled, warm and genuine.

Damon and Gwen tilted their heads at him, trying to get a good look—but Zephyr caught them and turned away sharply, pretending he hadn’t noticed.

Then, as if a thought had just struck him, Damon waved his hand broadly and called out, “Ladrel! Ivy!”

They looked up.

“Say hi to Elrond for me!” Damon shouted with a grin.

Their eyes widened in horror.

They’d completely forgotten about him.

The trio stepped into the mist, voices echoing behind them:

“Till we meet again!”

---

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“You know Grimm’s gonna kill us, right?” Gwen said casually.

They emerged from the other side of the mist, now standing in a dense forest.

Damon’s eyes widened. “Wait… we’re already in Aeloria’s mist?. But Grimm said he couldn’t get us to Aeloria’s mist.”

He turned and stared at the wall of fog behind them.

“…The village—it was IN Aeloria’s mist, not the entrance."

He smiled slowly. “He brought us here.”

“So… where did he say we should go again?” Gwen asked.

“He said…” Damon’s eyes flicked back as the memory surfaced. ‘The mainland, then near the cliff—impossible to miss.’

Damon and Gwen exchanged a look and sighed in perfect sync.

“We forgot to ask where the mainland was.”

“I did,” Zephyr said casually.

Damon’s expression lit up. “Nice.”

Then his eyes narrowed. “Wait… if you asked, then you knew we were in Aeloria’s Mist all along.”

Zephyr nodded. “Not right away. But when we visited their hideout and the wall turned out to be an illusion—it clicked. I mean, it was spelled out. Everything’s a mist. Everything’s an illusion.”

“Oh look, a butterfly,” Gwen whispered, already tuning him out.

Damon leaned in with mild curiosity. “Where?”

Zephyr let his head drop forward with a deadpan mutter. “I hate my life.”

Whack!

Gwen smacked him from behind.

“Stop stalling and show us the way, Mist Master.”

Grumbling, Zephyr trudged forward with the reluctant energy of someone guiding toddlers.

They pushed through the forest until they reached a cliff.

“I thought you said you knew where we were going, moron,” Gwen snapped.

Zephyr scanned the landscape. His thoughts raced. This has to be another illusion…

Then he noticed the trees below weren’t covered in shadow—it was an open forest canopy. He exhaled. “Only one way to find out.”

He casually leapt from the cliff, hands still stuffed in his pockets, letting the wind lift his hair like a breeze through silk.

Damon and Gwen peered down, waiting for a signal—

Shove!

They tumbled forward as Zephyr’s voice echoed behind them.

“Morons.”

They landed hard—but on their feet—just as Zephyr casually teleported to their side, completely unharmed.

Gwen and Damon looked up and froze.

It was breathtaking.

The view stretched endlessly before them—light shimmered from every direction, casting a radiant glow across the night sky. Towering buildings sparkled with diamond and gold, rising on either side like monuments to magic and innovation. People zipped by on hoverboards weaving through glowing alleys; others glided smoothly on flying carpets or rode massive elephants whose ears flapped like wings, lifting them gracefully through the air.

Every kind of fantastical transport moved fluidly through the vibrant city, as if dreams had taken form.

Damon and Gwen breathed in unison, their eyes reflecting the wonder.

They barely had time to soak it in—when out of nowhere, a jet of black smoke slammed into all three of their faces.

Their vision went black.

When they awoke, they were on their knees, facing a mysterious figure seated before them.

A woman sat before them, approximately 182 cm tall. Her legs were crossed elegantly, her presence both commanding and serene. Her beauty was impossible to ignore—full, glistening red lips; piercing grey eyes that studied them with quiet amusement; and a slender, graceful frame wrapped in an extravagant purple gown.

The gown was daring, covering just enough of her bust—measuring around 103 cm—to remain suggestively open. It clung tightly to her curves, flowing smoothly down past her waist. From there, the fabric split boldly down the center and back, revealing both of her legs from the waist down with effortless confidence.

Each long sleeve ended with a rose-shaped embellishment. Atop her head rested a pointed hat, the tip bending slightly to the side, completing her regal-yet-mysterious look.

She said nothing.

Only smiled.

“So, what brings you to the city?” the lady asked, her voice smooth and teasing.

“Uhmm, I’m sorry,” Damon replied slowly. “We’re looking for somewhere—well, more like someone.”

“And who might that be?” she inquired, still smiling.

“It’s a lady, actually,” Damon said. “Her name is—”

Whack!

A flicker of wing struck his forehead.

“Don’t go giving information out, you moron,” Zephyr whispered sharply.

“Well darling, you were trespassing, so I could kill you or…” The lady stood up slowly, licking her lips with a sly grin.

She bent down, grabbed Zephyr’s chin gently, and pulled his gaze to meet hers. Zephyr immediately turned his head away without hesitation.

She chuckled, amused, and with a snap of her fingers, the cuffs around their wrists shattered and fell off.

“So what is it you’re looking for?” she asked again.

“Uhmm, the name is Nightmoor,” Damon said cautiously. “Seraphim Nightmoor.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“Oh, is that right.?”

The air darkened instantly, shadows spreading across the room. Her aura shifted—heavy, dangerous.

Without warning, chains burst from the ground, snapping around their wrists again.

“Uhmm… Grimm sent me,” Damon said calmly, unaffected.

Her expression brightened. The darkness lifted as quickly as it came.

“Grimm did? Are you his kids?” she asked curiously.

“No,” Damon replied.

“Not just one but three…” she whispered, more to herself. “Never knew he’d move that fast.”

She began to mutter, seemingly lost in thought, pacing in place.

The trio stood in silence, staring at one another in confusion.

“So… are you gonna help us or what?” Zephyr asked, clearly out of patience.

Her eyes blinked into focus. “Oh! Yes, yes, of course. I’m Seraphim Nightmoor.”

The chains on their hands snapped.

Damon stretched his hand, and his bag—resting across the room—floated into his grip. He reached inside slowly. “Figures. Yeah, he said I should give this to—”

“Come with me,” she cut him off.

And just like that, they vanished.

Teleported—right into the heart of the city.

“Welcome... to the city of Aeloria’s Mist,” Seraphim said with a radiant smile.

“I’m pretty sure we’re aware of that,” Gwen replied, nodding casually.

“I’m the ruler. The queen,” Seraphim added, almost offhandedly.

Then, with a flourish, she led them sightseeing.

First stop: a sex house.

“No, thank you,” all three replied in unison.

Next stop: a food court.

Gwen didn’t even hesitate—she dove right in, and naturally, the boys followed.

Third stop: a floating garden suspended by giant humming crystals, where glowing butterflies swirled through the air and music played without a source.

They moved from place to place after that—markets suspended in the air, crystalline towers humming with magic, bridges built from light itself. Aeloria’s Mist truly was beautiful. Throughout it all, Seraphim talked. Nonstop.

Eventually, she paused and clapped her hands. “Any questions?”

“What do you mean ‘any questions?’” Zephyr snapped.

“I do,” Damon said, raising his hand slightly.

Seraphim turned to him.

“Why’s it nighttime?” Damon pointed toward the sky. “It was daytime before we arrived, and we’ve been here a while, but it’s still night. Is it part of your witchery, if I may?”

Seraphim gave him a playful wink. “You’re spot on, kid. You really are Grimm’s son.”

“Again, not his son,” Damon muttered, shaking his head.

Seraphim chuckled—clearly choosing not to hear that.

“I think we should start heading back now,” Damon said, pulling out the scroll and handing it over to her.

She grabbed it—and it vanished the moment her fingers touched it.

“And, uh…” Damon lowered his gaze slightly. “Why aren’t there outsiders here? I mean, we just passed by a village on our way in… and they looked pretty bad off. Can’t you take them in? This place would be way better than what they’ve got out there.”

Seraphim looked at Damon quietly. Her smile faded, just a little.

“I can’t bring outsiders in,” she said softly. “The city isn’t just a sanctuary—it’s a sanctum. Those who aren’t witches can’t enter.”

Gwen’s eyes widened. “So... we’re witches?”

“No, you moron,” Zephyr replied immediately.

Seraphim chuckled. “This place is locked. Bound by a pact.”

She turned, her voice growing more distant as she walked ahead. “If I take in those who aren’t witches, the balance will shift. Sure, I could sneak in a handful—but even then, you must have felt it by now. Little by little, your essence is being drained. The children wouldn’t last a week. And no parent would ever abandon their child for safety.”

Her steps slowed. “This place may seem like a paradise... but it’s a prison. None of us witches can leave. If we try, we’re incinerated instantly. We bind the monster beneath us—and it binds us in return. Cursed, trapped, unable to escape.”

She raised her finger to the sky. “That night sky?, I'm sorry I lied but That isn’t me. We were cursed with eternal darkness… but over the centuries, we absorbed most of it into ourselves.”

“Why don’t you people, like… beat up the monster?” Gwen shrugged.

Seraphim’s gaze dropped. “I’m afraid none of us can even get close. Not without being shredded. It feeds on us—waiting for the right moment to fully manifest. And when that happens, the pact will break… and every witch here will die.”

A sly grin tugged at Damon’s lips. “So... you’re saying, if we take out the monster, you’ll be able to take in non-witches?”

“It’ll be my pleasure.” Seraphim smiled.

“Great.” Damon turned and marched forward.

“Where are you going?” Gwen asked.

“To the monster,” Damon replied. “I got a reading of its location a second ago.”

They followed him toward a small desert tucked behind a jagged cliff. The ground trembled, and suddenly—a three-headed worm burst from the sand.

Gwen’s smile stretched wide as she stepped ahead. “I’m great at making deals.”

She pointed at the towering beast. “Okay, listen here, you three-headed slimy freak—there’s only two ways this goes: the peaceful way, or the non-peaceful way. The non-peaceful way is I beat your sorry face in until you leave. And the peaceful way is... you leave. But I still beat your sorry face in—just a little, though.”

Zephyr shook his head.

One of the worm’s heads shot toward Gwen. She leapt back gracefully as it slammed into the ground with an earth-shaking crash.

“Guess it’s too stupid to accept my offer.” Gwen landed.

“Even a sane person wouldn’t,” Zephyr muttered under his breath.

Gwen took a deep breath, "Shall we."

The trio smiled and leaped at the beast, each of them burning with intensity.