Chapter 6: A Mother's Secret
Hayyan's mother, Elara, had always been a sharp woman, even when she tried to appear otherwise. Though she never spoke of it aloud, there were times when her heart would tighten with fear at the things she saw Hayyan do. He thought he was being careful, practicing his magic in secret, but a mother always knows. She had noticed the way the wind sometimes blew in strange patterns when her son was nearby or how the air would grow unnaturally cool on hot days when Hayyan seemed uncomfortable.
Elara never confronted him about it, never even let him see the worry that gnawed at her every day. But the truth was, she was terrified. Terrified for her only son, whom she loved more than life itself. She had heard the stories—the tales of knights dragging away people who were different, people with unnatural abilities, witches and wizards who were seen as monsters. They were never seen again.
Elara would sit at the kitchen table sometimes, staring out of the small window overlooking their quiet village, her hands shaking as she thought of what would happen if someone saw Hayyan doing the things she had witnessed. She had seen it before: the accusing whispers, the fearful glances, and then the inevitable visit from the knights. The church branded those with magic as incarnations of evil, and once the rumor of sorcery spread, there was no escape. They would come for him, and they would kill him.
She couldn't bear the thought.
---
It was a hot afternoon when Elara first realized how much danger Hayyan might be in. She had been in the garden, weeding around the vegetables, when she saw him sitting under the oak tree. He had his eyes closed, his brow furrowed in concentration. At first, she thought he was simply resting, but then the wind began to pick up. It wasn't a natural breeze—it was too focused, too deliberate. The air swirled around her son as if responding to his unspoken command.
Her heart pounded in her chest, and she gripped the edge of the wooden fence tightly, her knuckles white. She wanted to shout, to call out to him and tell him to stop, but her voice caught in her throat. What if someone else saw? What if a neighbor passed by and noticed the unnatural wind? She forced herself to turn away, pretending she hadn't seen anything. But her mind raced, her thoughts darkened with fear.
Later that night, after Hayyan had gone to bed, Elara sat at the edge of her bed, her hands shaking in her lap. Her husband, Calen, lay beside her, already asleep, oblivious to the turmoil that kept her awake. She glanced at him, wondering if she should tell him the truth, but fear held her back. Calen was a good man, a loving father, but he was also deeply loyal to the kingdom and the knights who kept order in their land. If he knew what Hayyan could do, would he keep it a secret? Or would he, out of fear or duty, report their son?
Elara couldn't risk it.
She pressed her hands to her face, stifling a sob. She had to protect Hayyan, no matter what. But how? How could she shield him from the world, from the harsh reality that would come crashing down if anyone learned the truth?
---
Days turned into weeks, and Elara continued to keep her silence. She watched her son carefully, always pretending not to notice when the air shifted unnaturally or when small objects seemed to move on their own around him. She did her best to act normal, never letting her fear show. But at night, when she was alone, the weight of the secret crushed her.
One evening, as she tucked Hayyan into bed, she sat beside him for a moment, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. He was growing so fast, her little boy. His eyes, filled with youthful curiosity and wonder, looked up at her with love and trust. She smiled softly, but inside, her heart ached.
"Mom," Hayyan said, his voice sleepy but thoughtful, "why do people hate witches and wizards?"
Elara's breath caught in her throat. For a moment, she didn't know how to answer. She had tried to shield him from the darker truths of their world, but she knew he wasn't a child anymore. He was smart, too smart for his own good sometimes.
"People fear what they don't understand," she replied carefully, choosing her words with the precision of someone walking a tightrope. "They think that magic is dangerous… that it brings harm."
"But… what if it doesn't?" Hayyan asked, his eyes flickering with a strange light. "What if someone could use magic to help people?"
Elara forced a smile, though inside, her heart was pounding. "Perhaps… but people's hearts are slow to change, Hayyan. Sometimes it's better to keep certain things hidden, for your own safety."
Hayyan looked at her, his eyes thoughtful. "I understand, Mom. I won't let anyone know."
Elara's heart squeezed painfully. He had understood far more than she had meant to reveal. She leaned down, kissing his forehead gently. "Good night, my darling. Sweet dreams."
As she stood and left the room, closing the door behind her, tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. She pressed her back against the wooden door, breathing deeply, trying to calm the storm of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. Her son was smart, too smart. He knew something wasn't right, and it scared her how much he was already hiding.
But there was nothing she could do. For now, all she could hope was that no one else would notice what she had seen, and that her son's secret would remain safe—for both of their sakes.
As the months wore on, Elara's worry slowly began to take a toll on her. She tried to hide it from Hayyan and Calen, continuing her daily routine with a smile that never quite reached her eyes. But Hayyan noticed the subtle changes in his mother's behavior—the way she moved a little slower, how her face grew paler, and the way her eyes, once filled with warmth, now seemed distant and troubled.
Elara's health deteriorated gradually, but noticeably. She often claimed it was nothing but fatigue, brushing it off with a soft laugh whenever Hayyan asked. "I'm just tired, love," she would say, patting his head gently. "Running a household keeps me busy, that's all."
But Hayyan wasn't convinced. He saw how she winced when she thought no one was looking, how her steps faltered as she moved about the house, and how her once-strong voice had grown softer, weaker. He tried to ask his father, but Calen was always busy, and even when he wasn't, he seemed to share the same casual dismissal.
Elara's worry about Hayyan's magic gnawed at her relentlessly, a constant weight that she carried in her heart. She feared that her son would be discovered, that one day he might slip, even unintentionally, and someone would see. And if that happened, she knew the consequences would be disastrous.
Every time Hayyan used his powers, even in secret, Elara felt a pang of fear so sharp it left her breathless. But she never said a word to him. She kept her silence, believing it was better not to burden him with her fears. She had to be strong, for him.
But strength comes at a cost.
---
One chilly autumn evening, Hayyan noticed his mother coughing more than usual. It was a deep, rattling cough that shook her small frame, and though she tried to hide it, he could see the exhaustion etched into her features. As she sat down by the fire, holding a handkerchief to her mouth, Hayyan knelt beside her, his young face full of concern.
"Mom," he said softly, "you don't look well."
Elara smiled weakly, her hand reaching out to cup his cheek. "I'm fine, Hay," she whispered. "Just a little under the weather, that's all. Nothing to worry about."
But Hayyan could see the truth in her eyes. Her hand, once warm and strong, now felt cold and fragile. The weight of unspoken fears hung heavy between them. He wanted to help her, to somehow use his powers to make her better, but he didn't know how.
The guilt gnawed at him. Deep down, Hayyan couldn't shake the feeling that he was the cause of her illness. Ever since he had begun practicing his magic in secret, his mother's health had started to decline. He wondered if her worry over him, over his dangerous secret, was making her sick. But what could he do? He couldn't stop practicing—he needed to control his magic, to understand it better. Yet, the price of his pursuit was becoming all too clear.
---
One night, as Elara tucked Hayyan into bed, she sat down beside him longer than usual, her breathing labored but steady. She stared at him for a long time, her eyes soft with a mixture of love and sorrow.
"Hay," she began, her voice quieter than usual, "there's something I need to tell you."
Hayyan looked up at her, his heart pounding in his chest. "What is it, Mom?"
Elara hesitated, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "You know I love you, more than anything in this world, right?"
Hayyan nodded quickly, his small hands clutching the blanket. "Of course I know, Mom. I love you too."
She smiled, though her eyes were filled with a sadness that Hayyan couldn't quite understand. "I need you to promise me something, Hay," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "Promise me that no matter what happens, you'll stay safe. That you won't let anyone know… about the things you can do."
Hayyan's breath caught in his throat. He had realized she knew, but never thought she would directly have a conversation with him about him. He stared at her, his eyes wide with shock. "You… you know? Since when? " he whispered.
Elara nodded slowly. "I've always known, my darling. I've seen it. But I never wanted to scare you. I just wanted to protect you… and keep you safe."
Tears welled up in Hayyan's eyes as he reached for her hand, squeezing it tightly. "I'll be careful, I promise," he said, his voice shaky with emotion. "I won't let anyone find out."
Elara leaned down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Thank you, Hay. That's all I need to hear."
She stood, her frail form looking even smaller in the dim light of the room. As she turned to leave, Hayyan felt a surge of desperation. "Mom," he called out, his voice trembling, "are you going to be okay?"
Elara paused at the door, her silhouette framed by the faint glow of the hallway. She didn't turn around, but her voice came softly, almost too softly. "Don't worry about me, love. Just… take care of yourself."
With that, she left the room, leaving Hayyan lying in bed, his heart heavy with worry. He couldn't help but feel that his mother was slipping away from him, and no matter how much he wanted to help, he didn't know how.
---