chapter 17 settling old scores

I carefully select my outfit for the day. Since we're going to the guild to start our first job, I want to make sure I'm wearing something sporty.

"You almost done?" Madison asks, hovering over me as I get dressed.

"Just about," I respond, grabbing sweatpants and a pink t-shirt. I pair them with some tennis shoes and my handy-dandy fanny pack.

She looks at me, then down at herself. "Maybe wearing a skirt is a bad idea," she says, giggling. "Do you have any pants I can borrow?" she asks sweetly.

"You didn't pack any?" I ask curiously as I finish dressing.

"Women don't have pants. They usually have to get them custom-made, which is expensive," she explains while rummaging through my clothes.

"Oh wow, I didn't know that."

"Can I wear these?" she asks, holding up a pair of blue jeans.

"Sure."

After changing, we head out the door.

"Girls really take their time changing," Luca sighs, waiting for us by the stairs.

"Sorry, let's go," I chuckle.

"Oh, hey! Where are you guys going?" Crystal asks, her voice chipper as she approaches.

"The guild," I say, my tone dry and unemotional.

"The guild? That sounds fun! Can I tag along?" she asks, her voice filled with excitement.

I meet her gaze, my expression neutral. "No, Crystal. It's not a place to sightsee. Respectfully, you won't be able to keep up with us," I say, turning to leave.

A shadow flickers across her face, the excitement dimming as something colder settles in her eyes. She crosses her arms, tilting her head slightly as if sizing me up.

"I wonder if you get it from Chris or him from you..." she mutters under her breath.

I stop in my tracks, my muscles tensing. The air between us shifts, growing heavy with unspoken resentment. My pulse quickens as I turn sharply to face her.

"Excuse me?" I challenge; my voice edged with warning.

Crystal meets my glare with a look of feigned innocence, but there's a glint of satisfaction in her eyes, like she enjoys getting under my skin. She smirks slightly before shrugging.

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it," she mutters, brushing past me with a dismissive wave of her hand.

My jaw clenches as I watch her walk away, my mind racing. What did she mean by that? Why does she always have to make everything feel like a personal attack?

"What the hell was that about?" Luca asks, his irritation clear.

I don't answer right away. Instead, I stand there, replaying her words over and over. A creeping sense of unease settles in my stomach, like I've done something wrong without even realizing it.

Madison must notice the shift in my demeanor because she places a comforting hand on my back, rubbing small circles. "It's okay, Dom. Don't worry about it," she reassures me, her voice soft.

Luca grabs my hand, and they lead the way out, but my mind is still stuck on Crystal—on the way she looked at me, the way she spoke to me, the bitterness laced in her tone.

And the worst part?

I don't know why it bothers me so much. After some walking, we arrived at the guild, its towering wooden structure bustling with adventurers of all ranks. The mission board, covered in parchment and notices, stood at the center of the room. We scanned the postings, looking for a job that suited our skills.

Eventually, we settled on a delivery request—transporting rare goods to a neighboring town. The guild receptionist handed us the cargo details, and we secured a carriage with a hired driver to handle the horses. As the carriage pulled up, a sturdy wooden wagon reinforced with iron bands, we climbed into the back. The inside smelled faintly of hay and aged wood, and a few sacks of other supplies rested in the corners.

The ride began with a gentle sway as the horses trotted forward. The worn dirt road stretched ahead, lined with lush green fields and patches of dense forest. Sunlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled patterns inside the carriage.

"I see we're going in the opposite direction of Lime Denn," I noted, watching the shifting landscape.

"Yeah, we're heading to Bellbrook," Madison replied.

"The good thing about Bellbrook is that it doesn't smell like Lime Denn," Luca added, biting into a pickle he had pulled from his pouch. He lay back against a stack of sacks, looking entirely at ease.

"How long will it take us to get there?" I asked, leaning against the carriage wall, feeling the gentle vibrations of the wheels rolling over the uneven dirt path.

"It's just 30 minutes away," Madison explained.

I frowned in confusion. "I thought you guys said Lime Denn was the closest town?"

"It is, but Bellbrook is considered part of Posa," Madison clarified, her voice soft and patient. "It's a small port town."

"Oh, okay."

The rhythmic clatter of the carriage wheels and the distant chirping of birds made the journey peaceful. A light breeze carried the scent of salt from the sea nearby, signaling our approach to Bellbrook. Just as I started to relax, a loud commotion snapped us to attention.

Shouts rang out from the road ahead.

"IT'S A RAID!!" the driver yelled as he yanked the reins, bringing the carriage to a sudden stop. The horses neighed in protest, their hooves kicking up dust.

"Madison, stay here," I commanded firmly, exchanging a quick look with Luca before we jumped out of the carriage.

A group of fifteen men surrounded the wagon, their weapons glinting in the afternoon sun. They were dressed in ragged armor and mismatched pieces of leather—bandits. One of them, a large brute with a scar across his cheek, stepped forward.

"Come out slowly with your hands in the air!" he barked, his sword pointed at us.

Luca and I shared a knowing glance.

"Didn't you brats hear us?" another bandit growled, his grip tightening on his axe.

"Yeah, we heard you," I muttered, slowly raising my hands.

As soon as I did, I unleashed a surge of magic. A massive, glowing magic circle materialized in the air above us, intricate runes spinning along its edges. The temperature plummeted instantly, a cold mist swirling around my fingertips. With a flick of my wrist, jagged ice spears erupted from the circle, hurtling toward the raiders. The bandits barely managed to dodge, rolling out of the way as the spears shattered against the ground, leaving frost in their wake.

"Kill them!!" one of the raiders bellowed.

Luca smirked, stepping forward as he waved his hands. The air around us thickened, a rush of wind swirling violently at his command. He raised his arms, and small, glowing wind circles appeared around the battlefield. Suddenly, powerful gusts erupted, slamming into the bandits, sending them tumbling like ragdolls.

I seized the moment, conjuring a stream of water from the moisture in the air. The liquid curled and twisted like a living serpent, slithering across the battlefield before lashing out in powerful bursts. Several bandits were swept off their feet, crashing hard into the ground.

One particularly bold raider charged at me, swinging a curved sword. I sidestepped, lifting my hand as a barrier of thick ice materialized between us. His blade struck the ice, sending a sharp clang through the air. Before he could react, I clenched my fist, and sharp spikes burst from the wall, forcing him to stumble back.

Meanwhile, Luca flicked his fingers, and dozens of small wind circles surrounded the remaining bandits. With a snap of his hand, the circles erupted with concentrated blasts of air, launching the raiders off their feet. The last of them crashed into the ground, dazed and groaning.

I surveyed the battlefield, the once-dusty road now coated in frost and puddles of water. "That wasn't so bad," I remarked, shaking the lingering ice from my hands.

"What do we do about these guys?" Luca asked, nudging one of the unconscious bandits with his foot.

I extended my hand and released a freezing wave, coating the raiders in thick layers of ice that locked them to the ground. "They're taken care of," I said with a shrug.

We climbed back into the carriage, and the driver wasted no time snapping the reins to get us moving again.

"Were you okay in here?" I asked Madison, my voice laced with concern.

"Yes, I'm fine. What about you two?"

"Didn't even break a sweat," Luca said, reclining back onto the sacks again.

"I expected we'd get jumped, but it's still funny that it actually happened," I said with a sarcastic chuckle.

The rest of the journey was smooth, the tension fading as we neared our destination. The sea breeze grew stronger, carrying the scent of salt and fish. Eventually, the wagon rolled to a stop in front of a large house, its wooden structure sturdy and well-kept. We had finally arrived in Bellbrook. "Is this the place?" I ask, looking out the window.

"That's what it says on the mission sheet," Madison replies, glancing over the paperwork.

A skinny man with slicked-back, jet-black hair stands waiting for us. He is tall and lean, dressed in a pristine deep-blue tailcoat with gold embroidery, his high-collared shirt crisp and stiff. The rings on his fingers glint in the sunlight as he holds an expensive-looking cane, though he clearly doesn't need it. His sharp features give him a permanently unimpressed expression, as though he smells something foul.

As soon as we step out of the carriage, he gives us a once-over, his lip curling slightly before he plasters on a thin, practiced smile.

I extend a hand. "Hello, we are the team who took on this mission," I say politely.

He takes my hand, but the moment our palms meet, he winces ever so slightly. The shake lasts no more than a second before he yanks his hand away and pulls out a monogrammed handkerchief, wiping his palm as though I had just soiled it.

"Charmed, I'm sure," he mutters, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

I frown, not liking his implication. The expensive outfit, the meticulous grooming, the way he looks at us as if we're beneath him—he has to be a noble. I roll my eyes at this puffy-pants-wearing jerk.

"Here's your delivery, sir," Madison says, keeping her tone sweet and professional.

He barely acknowledges her as he steps forward to examine the cargo. For the next ten minutes, he inspects everything down to the finest detail, flipping through papers, measuring items with an elegant silver ruler, and occasionally muttering to himself about "commoner efficiency." He never rushes, but his disinterest in our presence is painfully obvious.

Finally, he sighs and steps back, pulling out an ornate quill to sign our completion form. He scrawls his name with a dramatic flourish, then shoves the papers back at us.

"You did decent work, I suppose," he says, completely emotionless. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to inform His Majesty that I've received it." He waves his hand dismissively, as if shooing away a bothersome insect.

My ears perk up. "You know the royal family personally?" I ask.

He sighs as if my question is exhausting. Turning to face me fully, he lets his gaze roam over me, scrutinizing every detail—from my boots to my jacket—as though searching for something to mock.

"I am the royal family's treasurer," he says, his voice a mixture of arrogance and boredom. "And who might you be? You don't seem to be from... around here." His eyes narrow slightly as he studies my clothing.

I flash a forced smile. "Yeah, I'm not from around here," I say, turning to leave. "And as for who I am... you'll find out the next time we meet." My voice carries a hint of pettiness, but I don't care.

He adjusts his glasses and scoffs. "I doubt we will. Only nobles and prominent figures run in my circle," he huffs. "Count yourself lucky to have seen me at all. The only reason I'm here is because I needed to personally inspect these items." I glance over my shoulder and glare. "Again, I'm fairly certain we will meet again," I say, my tone dry and clipped.

We get back onto the carriage and leave.

"We're meeting that Q-tip again?" Luca asks curiously.

"I forgot to mention—I put in a request to meet the royal family," I say nonchalantly.

"What?!" Madison blurts out in surprise. "How and when did you manage that?"

"It was yesterday, in front of the palace. I asked the guard to grant me an audience."

"What if they decline?" Madison asks, her expression worried.

"If they don't, then I'll let myself in."

"No! You will go to jail again," Madison scolds.

I sigh in frustration, and the wagon falls silent for a while. Every time I get close, the same feeling stirs in my chest—an unbearable weight pressing down on me, like invisible hands reaching out, clawing at my soul. It isn't fear. It isn't excitement. It's something deeper, something primal. A whisper just beyond my comprehension.

The first time I saw the palace, it was just a flicker—like déjà vu. But the closer I got, the stronger it became. Now, every time we pass by those walls, my body tenses with an unshakable need to go inside.

"I have this overwhelming, intense feeling whenever I get close to the palace," I mutter, my voice soft as my thoughts trail off. "I can't stand not knowing what's behind those walls... pulling me in."

My gaze drops to my feet. I know I'm being selfish, but I don't care anymore. It messes up my whole day once I encounter this feeling. I don't want to do anything else once that sensation hits me—I feel at home, so to speak.

"You guys don't have to come with me," I say, running my fingers through my hair. "It's just... live or die to JoJo, I need to find out what I'm feeling over that fence," I utter somberly.

Madison wraps her arms around me and tries to comfort me. Luca sits up and takes my hands into his.

"You two have become my family. You gave me a home when I was tossed out of my old one," he begins, his tone serious and low. "I spent the last few years wandering the streets or trying to follow other nobles home like a stray dog," he confesses. Tears form in his eyes as he swallows the lump in his throat.

His grip on my hands tightens, and his voice wavers as he continues. "I didn't want to admit I was thrown away so easily just yet, so I had no shame," he says, chuckling bitterly through his sorrow. "But that's eventually what I came to understand, and once I did, I spiraled into darkness. I stopped seeing the point of waking up every day. My body was nothing more than an empty shell, moving without purpose, breathing without reason."

He takes a shaky breath. "I neglected my health, ignored my hunger, and let myself rot. I was so tired. So unbelievably tired. I just wanted it all to end."

The air grows heavy between us as his words sink in.

"But dying hurts," he whispers, almost like he's trying to convince himself that life was the better choice. His laugh is hollow, void of any real amusement. "Before I knew it, I was starving to death. The hunger pains were like knives twisting in my gut, over and over, until I couldn't even cry from the agony anymore. The worst part? No one cared. People would walk past me as if I were invisible, as if I was already a corpse decaying on the street."

His eyes lock onto mine, and I can see the ghosts of his past reflected in them.

"Not even Chris, who I know went through the same thing, deserved that kind of suffering."

A deep breath shudders through him before he speaks again. "I was too weak to successfully steal food from booths or stores. Every time I tried, I was caught and beaten within an inch of my life. The shopkeepers never held back, and neither did the guards." He laughs again, but this time it's full of venom, of resentment. "Sometimes, I think they wanted me to die right there in the dirt so they wouldn't have to look at me anymore."

He rubs at his eyes as if trying to erase the memories. "I was so desperate that I eventually got involved with those men you saw upon our first meeting. I knew they were dangerous. I knew I'd probably die working for them. But at least I would die with a full stomach." He sighs, his gaze softening but still filled with pain.

"Dominique, I'm telling you all this to say—if it's your destiny to die by JoJo's hands, just know this."

Suddenly, he hugs me. His embrace is warm, desperate, like he's clinging to something he's afraid to lose. I hug him back, my chest aching at the weight of his suffering.

"I would rather die with you than lose my home ever again," he says sweetly, his voice thick with emotion.

Tears well up in my eyes, and I cry in response to the love both Madison and Luca have given me. Their love for me is the greatest gift I have ever received. Even though I still feel like something is missing in my heart, the majority of it feels full.

Eventually, we make it back and head to the service desk. We're paid for our work—we ended up doing several jobs, from finding a rare plant to clearing out gangs in neighboring towns.

The sun has set, and my muscles ache.

"My bed is calling me," I groan, heading toward the manor.

"You're tired? Try being a healer struggling to keep up with super wizards," Madison groans, following close behind.

"At least we had a productive day," Luca says, trailing after us.

We arrive back at the house after some time and are greeted by the butler.

"Welcome back. I had dinner brought up to your quarters," he says gracefully.

"Pickles, pickles, pickles" Luca chanted while speeding past him in a hurry dashing to his room to claim his stash of treats.

I however open my mouth to protest, but he interrupts me.

"Do not fret, my lady. The maids have been watching the meals you prepare for yourself. Though not as glamorous, they are perhaps more to your liking," he says.

I smile. Thank you," I said, my voice clipped. We filed upstairs, the air thick with the day's unspoken grievances. As we rounded the corner, my shoulder collided with Chris's broad frame Crystal stood beside him, arms crossed, her sharp eyes slicing through me like daggers. while her lips curled into a frown that dripped with disdain.

We froze, the hallway narrowing to the space between us. Chris's gaze raked over me, slow and deliberate, Chris cocked his head slightly, his gaze unreadable as he studied me. "So," he finally said, voice low and edged with irritation. "Crystal told me you guys went to a guild." He stepped closer, the heat of his body crowding mine. I raised an eyebrow, forcing my expression to remain neutral. "And? What about it?" I shot back, tilting my chin up.

My voice came out flat, detached. He leans in His cologne—smoky and sharp—flooded my senses.

"Last time I checked, I'm a guardian too. Keeping things from me weakens our manpower—puts us at half-strength." His voice dipped into something quieter, something dangerous.

Chris took a deliberate step forward He was taller, broader, his presence an imposing shadow against mine, but I didn't waver. I gripped my own arm, nails digging into flesh to ground myself. His eyes flicked down, lingering on my curves before snapping back up.

A smirk tugged at his lips. "Not that I care," he added, voice dropping to a velvet rumble. "I'd rather not take orders from someone who... struggles to keep up." Crystal let out an exaggerated sigh beside him, rolling her eyes. I ignored her, locking onto Chris as he leaned in slightly, his masculine scent—curling around me. "You know," he murmured, voice like velvet laced with steel, "Mrs. Dean said some things about us needing to get along. Share our powers. Work together."

His lips curled into a smirk. "But honestly? I work better alone." I let out a slow breath, my expression unimpressed. "Good for you. Were you expecting a reward?" My tone was thick with sarcasm, but the words hung in the air between us like a challenge. "That would be something," he murmured, his voice like a brush of silk against my skin. His thumb grazed the edge of my jaw, a fleeting touch that burned Chris chuckled, the sound low and knowing.

His eyes darkened, filled with something I couldn't quite name, something both taunting and hungry. He leaned in just enough that his breath ghosted against my ear it was hot against it. "Funny... A woman who sees a good man needing one... might find herself... needing a reward too." His voice dropped to a whisper, rough and charged.

"Or rather, recompensation for said reward." My pulse roared. His hand hovered near mine, trembling faintly as if fighting the urge to pin my wrist to the wall. Heat coiled in my stomach, but I kept my expression cool. His fingers twitched at his side like he was debating whether to touch me, whether to close that last inch of space between us.

I tilted my head slightly, my own voice dropping to a near-whisper. "Do you know any good men deserving of a reward?" I muttered, my voice steady despite the flush creeping up my neck. Crystal cleared her throat loudly, her foot tapping. "Are you two done?" she snapped. Her face slightly red from both embarrassment and anger at what she was seeing.

Chris pulled back, but not before his gaze dipped to my lips. For the first time, I saw something flicker in his expression—something sharp, something primal. But just as quickly, it was gone. His annoyance surfaced instead, his smirk slipping into something more serious. Frustration tightened his features. "Maybe you'll appreciate a man who doesn't talk about getting the job done," he said, leaning in again, his voice a dark promise.

"But One who shows you that he can." "Who knows?" I said, stepping around him, "Are you the type of men who'd sacrifice for me? because I might prefer that more" He stiffened. For a heartbeat, his mask slipped—a flash of raw hunger, quickly smothered. "I'm top of the picks, Dom. I'll grow stronger. For myself." He strode past me, his shoulder deliberately bumping mine. He turned to walk past me but hesitated for just a second. "And what kind of man would I be if I just sacrificed my power?" His voice was low, almost like a whisper to himself, before he disappeared down the hall.

Crystal scoffed, flipping her hair as she followed after him. But not before she gave me one last glare, her lip curling in disgust. "What an ass!" Madison finally exploded, breaking the silence. "Who does he think he is?" She went on, her ranting voice echoing in the hallway.

I shook my head. "Let's go to bed," I said, almost pleading to drop it.

We stepped into our room. Two plates with tin covers sat on trays next to our beds. Madison rushed over to one, lifting the lid with a delighted gasp.

"Hey! It's that potato soup you made! And a sandwich!" she said, practically drooling.

"Go ahead and eat. I'm going to take a bath," I murmured.I stepped into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. My fingers trembled slightly as I turned the faucet, watching the water pour in, steaming as it filled the tub. The encounter with Chris lingered in my mind, replaying like a reel of flickering images—his breath on my skin, the way his eyes had searched mine, the tension, thick as a storm cloud between us.

Shaking my head, I undressed, letting the fabric slide from my body. I eased into the water, the heat instantly melting away the stiffness in my muscles. The sensation wrapped around me, soothing, but it did nothing to quiet my thoughts.

I let my head fall back against the edge, my fingers drifting absently over the water's surface.

I leaned back, letting the heat punish away the memory of Chris's smirk, his thumb on my jaw, the way his voice had frayed when he'd whispered... Or someone. My skin prickled where he'd almost touched me. I dunked my head underwater, as if I could drown the tension. When I surfaced, the room spun. Stupid, I chided myself. He's all games. And Crystal when did she become his follower? I dragged the soap down my collarbone, my mind betraying me with flashes—the tremor in his hand, the way his chest had strained against his shirt when he'd stepped closer.

No. I scrubbed harder, until my skin burned pink. The water cooled, but I stayed, watching the ripples distort my reflection. What the hell was that? His taunts had claws. His compliments, landmines. I scoffed under my breath, but the memory of his voice still sent an uninvited shiver down my spine.

The water lapped against my skin, the warmth sinking deep, relaxing every knot of tension in my body. My breathing slowed, my eyelids growing heavy. I allowed myself to drift, to let the moment stretch, undisturbed by the outside world.

The weight of the night finally settled over me like a thick, warm fog. My body, exhausted yet comfortable, began to sink deeper into relaxation, the gentle rocking of the water lulling me into something close to sleep.

After a long while, I finally forced myself to move, dragging my limbs through the now-lukewarm water. I washed my face, ran my fingers through my damp hair, and stepped out, wrapping myself in a towel. By the time I returned to the bedroom, Madison had finished eating and was already curled up under the blankets, fast asleep. I sat in front of my tray, picking up the spoon and taking a slow sip of soup.

"...It's pretty good," I murmured to myself, the warmth spreading through me in more ways than one. The next day, we rush out the door to the guild. Heading straight to the request board, we take our time browsing before agreeing on an easy job to warm up with first.

As we approach the counter, we notice Chris and Crystal speaking with an employee.

"Please place your hand on this orb," the lady instructs.

Crystal complies, reaching out. As soon as she does, the orb flashes a bright green.

"Okay, and you next, sir," she continues.

Chris follows suit, and as if watching a rerun of what happened to us, the orb shatters. A satisfied smile spreads across his face.

The guild owner walks in, his gaze shifting from Chris and Crystal to us standing not far behind. With a smile, he waves us over.

"Hey, you're back! I was actually on the lookout for you three," he says cheerfully.

"Hello, good to see you again," I reply, waving back and doing my best to give a genuine smile.

His attention then shifts to the shattered orb before him. "This looks oddly familiar. Is he with you guys?" he asks curiously.

We exchange awkward glances before I quickly nod. The last thing we need is outsiders thinking there's a divide they could exploit. I can feel Chris's gaze on me, but I ignore him—and the grin on his stupid face.

"Well, that speeds things up. Why don't you all follow me?" the guild owner says, ushering us to the back. We all pile into a room.

"Okay, now that I have you all here, let's get to business," he says, his tone growing serious. "I'd like to personally ask you to take on a job for me."

"What kind of job?" Luca asks, sensing the shift in tension.

"I need you to wipe out a criminal organization south of Posa, in a large town called Graymount."

"Wait, a criminal organization? How large are we talking?" I ask, growing more uneasy as details emerge.

"Let me explain. This is a criminal gang operating under the guise of a loan company."

"So, we're dealing with loan sharks?" I say, piecing things together.

"Yes, but that's not all. These individuals are involved in human trafficking."

A heavy silence falls over the room.

"This job was originally listed for higher-ranking members," he continues, his expression darkening. "But the teams who took it either went missing or were completely wiped out. I feel deeply responsible—not just for the teams we lost, but also for the innocent people who came to us seeking help against them."

He sighs. "They've only got one large building since they're fairly new, but they've been operating for the last three years. Still, they're dangerous."

With a deep bow, he pleads, "Will you please accept this job?"

Chris cracks his knuckles, fire flickering in his palms. "Sounds interesting. Smashing a bunch of metal tin cans has nothing on this!" he exclaims excitedly.

"Calm down, Pyro," I interject, already going over everything we've just learned. "The last thing we need is to go in guns blazing." "Ha, what? You scared or something? This is a huge opportunity for me to gain real battle experience," he says, barely able to contain his excitement. "If you guys aren't going, I'll do it myself," he announces, grinning as he heads for the door.

"Chris, wait! We're all going. We accept the job," I say, turning back to the owner.

"Thank you so much. Here's the file full of information on them," he says, handing me a folder stuffed with papers. I pass it to Madison, who begins looking it over.

"This ought to be interesting," Luca mutters, his tone a mix of exhaustion and intrigue.

We rush out after Chris, who dashes ahead in a hurry.

"Be careful," the owner calls out to us with concern.

Upon stepping outside, I spot Mr. Stone and Mrs. Dean speaking with the group. As I walk over, Mrs. Dean adjusts her glasses and says, "So you guys really did join the guild, huh?"

"Did you take on a job?" Mr. Stone asks curiously.

Madison brushes past everyone and hands him one of the papers. "It's a big job this time," he states.

Mr. Stone's eyes widen as he reads it. "Dominique, Luca, and Chris can go, but not you two," he says, his voice laced with a hint of fear.

We all stare at him in surprise.

"What is it, Edward?" Mrs. Dean asks, a frown spreading across her face.

He hands her the slip of paper. She looks it over, but her expression remains unreadable.

"I see," she mutters.

"Dad, I'm going with Dom," Madison insists.

"NO! I forbid it!" His voice is firm, unwavering in his refusal.

"They've been training for real combat, sweetie. You've been on the sidelines," he argues.

"Not to mention, you have healing magic, not combat magic," Mr. Stone adds.

The shouting grows louder as the two fight to make their points, while the rest of us sit in silence, waiting for the outcome.

"When JoJo kidnapped me, I realized how powerless I was... for the second time," He admits, his anger shifting into sadness as he voices his pain.

"You still haven't forgiven yourself for Mom's death, have you?" she asks softly, tears forming in her eyes.

Her question is met with silence.

"What about you?" Mr. Stone finally responds, his voice barely above a whisper. "Have you forgiven me for it?"

Madison's eyes widen, and she looks away. She grips my hand with such force that pain shoots through my arm.

"Despite my brilliant mind, I'm weak, Madison," he continues. "I wasn't strong enough to save your mom... and I'm not strong enough to lose you either." A single tear slips down his face as he pours out his heart.

I feel a lump in my throat watching this unfold. I've never seen a grown man cry out of love for his daughter. In fact, I've only ever seen the opposite.

Do I stand up for Madison? Or do I respect Mr. Stone's feelings?

I don't think there's anything for me to say. No matter how warmly they've embraced me, I'm not family. If I cross that line, I'll only meet resistance. I stood frozen, barely daring to breathe as I watched them. The air between Madison and Mr. Stone was thick, heavy with emotions that had been buried too long. The distant murmurs of the crowd faded into an eerie silence as they faced each other, neither willing to look away.

"I didn't blame you for Mom's death," Madison began, her voice quiet but sharp. "I blamed you for leaving me to grieve alone during her death."

Her words hung in the air like a knife poised to strike. Mr. Stone flinched, his fingers trembling at his sides.

"I understood you were hurt and distraught too," she continued, her voice cracking. "But I was so little..." Her breath hitched, and then the tears came. "I didn't know how to comprehend what was happening in my own house. I lost both my parents that day. Mom was dead, and my father locked himself away from me."

She choked on her words, her body shaking. The tension in the air was suffocating, as if the air itself was holding its breath. Mr. Stone took a shaky step forward, then another, until he was close enough to touch her. Slowly, carefully, he reached out and took her hand. His grip was weak at first, unsure—until the dam inside him broke.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice raw with pain. "I'm so sorry." His grip tightened. "I was hurt. I lost my other half, and the only thing I knew how to do was break down and self-destruct."

Madison sucked in a shaky breath and let go of my hand, wrapping her arms around him instead. He hesitated for only a second before crushing her against him.

They cried.

For the first time in years, father and daughter cried together.

The world around them blurred. The weight of the past pressed down on them, and yet, in that moment, they didn't care who was watching.

"Dad," Madison murmured against his shoulder. "When you dragged me along to find people I didn't even know existed, I was furious with you. I thought you were dragging me away from what little I had left." She swallowed hard and pulled back to meet his eyes. "But thanks to that leap of faith you took... I found my new family."

Her gaze flickered toward me and the others, then back to her father. "You brought me along on this crazy ride to find hope."

She stood up, took a deep breath, and reached for my hand again. There was fire in her eyes now—a fierce, unshakable determination.

"Dad, now that we've found it... are you not willing to die to protect it?" she asked, her voice steady and full of resolve. "Because I am."

The silence that followed was deafening. Mr. Stone stared at her, searching her face as if trying to understand the strength she had found. Then, slowly, he stood. He wiped his tears, squared his shoulders, and nodded.

"You're absolutely right." His voice was steadier now, filled with a new sense of purpose. "Thank you for reminding me of the light."

Then he turned to me.

"Dominique, may I borrow your hand device?"

I blinked, startled by the shift. "My cell phone?"

"Yes," he said. "I'm going to reverse-engineer it and create copies for all of us." A small, rueful smile touched his lips. "I promise I'll give it back to you as if it was never touched."

I hesitated for only a moment before handing it over. His touch was gentle as he took it from me, and for the first time since I met him, I felt at ease.

"Thank you," he said. His eyes held something new—something lighter. "All of you, please be careful."

He pulled Madison into one last embrace before stepping back. With a final nod, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd.

A soft chuckle broke the silence.

"I'm glad things worked themselves out," Mrs. Dean mused. But then her expression darkened, her voice turning sharp. "This will be the first big mission you all take on by yourselves." She scanned our faces, her gaze intense. "You need to work together and put aside any petty feelings. It's you versus them. Make sure it's you who make it out alive, no matter what."

She raised her hand. "THREAD MAGIC!! SILK DOLL!!"

Magic wove through the air, glimmering threads twisting together until a small fabric doll formed. It landed gently on Crystal's shoulder.

"If you're in serious danger or need anything from me, destroy it," Mrs. Dean said, her tone final. "I will come running to your location."

With that, she turned on her heel and left.

A moment of silence stretched between us. Then, finally—

"Can we finally leave now?"Chris asks impatiently, "Yeah, but let's go somewhere secluded." I respond

"Why?" he asks.

Chris groans in annoyance. "Too many eyes are on us. Luca, lead the way," I command.

Luca nods and guides us away from the bustling streets, weaving through narrow alleys until we reach a quiet, empty area.

"Now what?" Crystal asks, her eyes wandering around.

I smile. "Luca, if you would."

With a swirl of wind, he lifts us up and carries us to the unknown town of Graymount.