Poll's consciousness swam sluggishly, his mind foggy. Voices floated around him like distant echoes, and his body felt like lead. Slowly, he cracked his eyes open, the blurry world around him coming into focus.
Where…am I?
A warm hand rested gently on his forehead. As his vision sharpened, he saw a familiar face leaning over him.
"Elowen…?" Poll croaked, his voice barely a whisper.
Elowen smiled softly, her golden eyes filled with quiet reassurance. "Yes, Poll. I'm here," she said, her voice calm but firm. "Don't push yourself. Your hand's still injured."
Poll shifted his gaze to his bandaged right hand, wincing as the memories came flooding back—the nightwolf, the explosion, and then darkness.
He groaned softly. "What…happened?"
Before Elowen could answer, another familiar presence leaned into view. Seraphina, Poll's mother, gently brushed a lock of hair from his face, her expression a mixture of worry and relief.
"You're safe now, my little troublemaker," she said with a soft smile, her voice soothing. "Just rest. You've earned it."
Poll blinked, trying to piece together what had happened, but his eyelids felt heavier by the second.
[Downstairs – Secrets in the Lantern Light]
The soft glow of evening lanterns bathed the dining room in a warm light. Eryndor sat at the table, his hands steepled and his expression grim. Seraphina joined him, her worry etched into every line of her face.
"I never expected this…" Eryndor muttered, breaking the heavy silence. "What Poll did out there—Seraphina, that wasn't just magic. It was…something else. Arch-class magic, maybe even beyond that."
Seraphina nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line. "He's just a child, Eryndor. He shouldn't be capable of anything near that level. And yet…"
Eryndor sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "He's been reading a lot. Some of those old texts I thought were just theory, maybe he's found something more in them. But even so…to unleash that kind of force without training? It's like giving a toddler a siege engine."
Seraphina raised an eyebrow. "You're calling our son a siege engine now?"
Eryndor gave her a tired look. "A small, chaotic, and very loud one, yes."
The tension broke for a moment as Seraphina chuckled softly. But her smile faded quickly. "We can't let anyone find out about this. If the guild or the military gets wind of what Poll can do…" Her eyes hardened with resolve. "They'll come for him. They'll try to control him, turn him into some kind of weapon."
Eryndor leaned forward, his voice low and serious. "Which is why we have to keep this quiet. No one outside this house can know what happened. Not the guild, not the higher-ups, no one."
As he spoke, the sound of shuffling feet drew their attention. Standing in the doorway were Kaida, Lira, and Elowen, their expressions solemn.
Eryndor narrowed his eyes slightly. "You three. You've seen what Poll can do, and you understand what's at stake. This stays between us. If word gets out, it could put him in danger—more danger than any of us can handle."
Kaida crossed her arms, nodding firmly. "Got it. I don't like politics anyway. Too much talking, not enough action."
Lira grinned nervously, scratching the back of her head. "No worries, Mr. Nightvale. I'm great at keeping secrets. Like the time I accidentally blew up the library's mana lamp. No one ever found out!"
Eryndor raised an eyebrow. "Wait, you did that?"
Lira froze. "Uh…forget I said anything!"
Elowen sighed, placing a hand on Lira's shoulder. "We'll be careful. You have our word."
Eryndor nodded, his stern gaze softening. "Good. Because if this gets out, we're not just protecting Poll—we're protecting everyone he cares about."
Kaida smirked, breaking the heavy mood a little. "Don't worry, we've got this. And besides…" She glanced toward the stairs. "Someone has to keep that little troublemaker in line."
Seraphina chuckled softly. "Indeed. Though sometimes I wonder who's keeping whom in line."
[Upstairs – A Quiet Resolve]
Back in his room, Poll lay with his eyes half-closed, the faint sounds of the conversation below drifting up. His mind raced, despite his body's exhaustion.
I have to get stronger. I don't want to be a burden. And if what I did today was dangerous, I need to learn how to control it.
He glanced at his bandaged hand, a flicker of determination in his tired eyes. I'll figure this out. For my family. For everyone.
With that resolve, he drifted back into a restless sleep, the weight of his new found power lingering in his dreams.