Alden groaned as he slowly regained consciousness, his hand instinctively reaching up to clutch his head. His usually composed demeanor was replaced by a vulnerable confusion as his eyes darted around the room. Isabel knelt beside him, her hand hovering near his chest, her lips murmuring an incantation that shimmered faintly in the air.
Mathew sat nearby, his face a mask of tension and guilt. He leaned forward as Alden's eyelids fluttered open.
"What… what happened?" Alden muttered.
Mathew was sitting by his side, his expression a mixture of relief and worry. "Alden," he said softly. "You're alright."
Alden blinked at him, his gaze unfocused. Then his eyes moved to Isabel, standing nearby with her hands still faintly glowing from the remnants of her spell. "Who is she?"
"She's here to help," Mathew explained quickly. "You were under a spell, Alden. A powerful one that hid some of your memories."
"Memories?" Alden repeated, his voice shaking slightly.
"Not all of them," Isabel interjected gently. "But the ones involving Mathew's real parents… and his sister. They were locked away."
Alden stiffened at her words, his face pale. Slowly, his hand lowered from his temple. "I… remember now," he said, his voice trembling. "Your parents, Mathew. And your sister."
Mathew's eyes searched Alden's face, hope and dread warring within him. "Tell me," he urged.
Alden leaned back, his expression heavy with guilt. "Your parents weren't ordinary. Not by any stretch of the imagination. They came to your family—your grandfather—seeking sanctuary. Your father… he was magnificent and terrible, like a living contradiction. And your mother… she carried an aura that felt like fire and shadow, impossible to ignore. They weren't running for their lives; they were running for yours."
"Did they ever give their names?" Mathew pressed.
Alden shook his head. "No. Only their natures. He was an angel, and she was a demon. Their union defied the laws of both realms, and you… you were the result of that defiance. They believed leaving you with your family was the only way to protect you."
Mathew's throat tightened as he absorbed the revelation. "And my sister?"
Alden's face twisted with pain. "She was… beautiful. Sweet. But she was taken, Mathew. Kidnapped when she was only seven. I've searched for her ever since, but there's been no trace. I failed her."
"You didn't fail her," Mathew said firmly. "You did everything you could."
Alden's gaze dropped, his shoulders sagging. "It was my duty to protect her. Just as it was my duty to protect you."
---
Before either of them could say more, Udo scrambled into the room, his small wings flapping frantically. "Trouble! There's trouble!"
"What is it now?" Isabel asked, her tone sharp but concerned.
Udo's tiny hands flailed in the air as he squeaked, "There's someone at the door, and they're… they're not normal!"
Alden didn't see Udo nor did he hear him talk, the illusion was necessary to not scare him.
The warning came too late.
The front door burst open with a deafening crash, the heavy wood splintering as it slammed against the wall. A figure stepped through the threshold, the light behind him casting an imposing silhouette.
The intruder was tall and striking, his long brown hair falling in waves over his shoulders. He was draped in a pristine white suit, and a cane rested casually in his gloved hand.
Alden stopped stood up from the sofa, his fists clenched. "What is the meaning of this, Sir? Have you no dignity?"
The man didn't respond, his lips curving into a faint smile.
Mathew's all-seeing eye flared to life instinctively, and the world seemed to shift around him. The illusion melted away, revealing the being's true form.
What Mathew saw made his breath catch. Beneath the immaculate human facade, the intruder was radiant, almost blinding. His form was encased in gold and silver armor, intricately etched with celestial patterns that shimmered like starlight. Two enormous wings unfurled from his back, their feathers glowing with a brilliance that seemed otherworldly.
In his hand, the cane transformed into a sword of pure light, the blade's edge humming faintly with energy. Mathew's stomach churned as he recognized the sword—it was eerily similar to the weapon his father had wielded in Alden's memories.
An angel.
Mathew's heart pounded as the being's golden gaze shifted toward him.
"Alden," Mathew said quietly, his voice shaking. "Step back."
"What?" Alden asked, turning his head slightly.
"It's an angel," Mathew whispered.
The air in the room grew heavy, the weight of the intruder's presence pressing down on them all. The angel's smile didn't falter, but there was something disconcerting in the way his glowing eyes fixed on Mathew, as if peering directly into his soul.
---