Scene 1 – Soft Lights and Warmth
The bistro lights overhead shimmered like captured stars. Tiny golden lanterns swayed gently above the terrace dining space, casting Katherine and Jeremiah in an amber glow. Their table sat at the edge, near the balcony rail, with the shimmering skyline of New York visible in the distance. Faint violin music floated through the air, tangled with the scent of rosemary, sizzling meat, and soft bread.
Katherine took a small sip of her sparkling raspberry cider, her eyes drifting toward Jeremiah as he spoke about the training upgrades in the Guild. He'd brushed his hair back more neatly than usual and was dressed in a sleek dark jacket, the collar upturned with quiet confidence.
"…and then Broadman just sighs, like he's tired of all of us. I swear, the guy has a built-in disappointment setting," Jeremiah joked.
Katherine laughed. "He probably does. I think they grow those into Guild instructors after twenty years."
"I wouldn't last twenty minutes teaching Lyra," Jeremiah smirked.
There was a pause. A comfortable one. They both smiled gently at each other. Katherine reached out and touched his hand lightly, her fingers brushing against his knuckles.
"I'm glad we're here," she said quietly.
"Me too," he replied. "It's been a while since I felt… this."
She tilted her head. "Safe?"
Jeremiah nodded. "Yeah. Safe… and seen."
For a moment, the background faded. All that existed was the soft air between them, the heartbeats of two people caught in something delicate and real.
That's when a voice called out, cutting gently through the air.
"Hey! Katherine?"
---
Scene 2 – The Frozen Greeting
Katherine turned and brightened. "Tiffany!"
A tall, elegant girl approached from between the hedges of the restaurant entrance. Tiffany had her hair pinned in a shimmering twist, long silver earrings brushing her neck. She wore a sleeveless blue blouse that shimmered faintly like frost in the light. Her presence was graceful and unhurried—she carried herself like someone always in control.
"Tiffany, this is Jeremiah," Katherine said warmly, gesturing to him. "Jeremiah, Tiffany. We were classmates back in our Academy training days. Water and ice user—she ranked top five in cryokinetic control before graduation."
"A pleasure," Tiffany said, extending her hand with a charming smile.
Jeremiah stood and returned the gesture. "Nice to meet you."
Their hands touched—
—and a sudden pulse of cold snapped between them.
A shimmering, ghostlike frost exploded across their fingers, encasing both hands in a thin sheet of ice.
Jeremiah froze.
Tiffany gasped, "What the hell—?"
But just as quickly as it came, the ice evaporated into mist, disappearing into the air.
Tiffany's eyes widened. "Did I—?"
"No," Jeremiah muttered, staring at his palm. "That wasn't you. That was…"
A glowing blue sigil flared just above Jeremiah's shoulder, spiraling open like a blossom of light. From it emerged a translucent fox spirit, its eyes glowing a sharp aquamarine. A halo of icy mist formed around its body as it floated between them.
"...Milo?" Katherine whispered.
The fox spirit looked directly at Tiffany, its ears perked, tail flickering in mid-air.
"You… look familiar," Milo said aloud, its voice both ancient and childlike, layered with echoes. "Who are you?"
Tiffany blinked. "I—uh… my name's Tiffany. Tiffany Hallow."
Milo circled her slowly, eyes narrowed. "Your energy is old. Cold. It's shaped like… her."
"Her?" Tiffany asked.
Milo paused. "Your mother. What was her name?"
Tiffany hesitated. "Aurora. Aurora Hallow. She… she died when I was seven. I barely remember her."
Jeremiah looked between them, unease mounting.
Milo suddenly halted mid-air and let out a soft, whimpering growl.
"I knew her," the spirit whispered. "She was one of us. A true Hydrokinesis Clan bloodline. Her legacy was hidden, scattered after the Fall. But this—this girl—is her child. I sense it in her veins."
Tiffany took a half-step back, breath catching. "What do you mean? I don't know anything about a Hydrokinesis Clan. My mom just... she was quiet. She kept to herself. My dad never talked about her."
Jeremiah stood quietly beside Katherine, watching Tiffany's whole world begin to shift.
"You should come with us," Milo said gently. "There's someone who can answer what I cannot."
"Who?"
Jeremiah exhaled. "My father."
---
Scene 3 – Secrets on the Road
The soft hum of the car filled the silence as they drove through the outskirts of the Guild District. Jeremiah sat in the passenger seat while Tiffany rode in the back. Katherine drove with both hands on the wheel, her eyes fixed on the winding road ahead.
Tiffany's thoughts were spinning.
"So you're telling me my mom was… part of some secret clan?" she asked, arms crossed. "And this fox spirit's just… bonded to you?"
"Milo has been with me since childhood," Jeremiah replied. "I always thought I was the only one. The only link to the Hydrokinesis bloodline that survived the Great Division after the Kaltora Collapse."
"That was during the Nexus Rebellion, right?" Tiffany asked.
Katherine nodded. "It was before either of us were born. But the stories are everywhere—how factions were torn apart. Some fled, some hid, and some were hunted."
Jeremiah added, "The Hydrokinesis Clan was believed to be extinct. They were too powerful, too… volatile."
Tiffany leaned forward slightly. "But I've lived an ordinary life. My powers didn't even awaken until I turned thirteen. And they were just… ice. Nothing extraordinary."
"They were dormant," Milo said, phasing in and out beside her. "Because you were hidden. For your own protection."
Tiffany rubbed her hands together. "But why didn't my father tell me anything?"
Jeremiah looked out the window. "Maybe… he didn't know."
Katherine glanced between them. "Or maybe someone didn't want you to remember."
The car pulled up to a quiet estate—tall, wrought-iron gates surrounded a traditional mansion with old stone pillars and lanterns hanging on each side of the entrance.
Jeremiah stepped out slowly. His voice was almost a whisper. "Let's find out."
---
Scene 4 – The Echo of a Name
The hallway was warm and polished, lit with soft yellow chandeliers hanging from the tall ceiling. Marble tiles echoed beneath their footsteps. A few housemaids moved across the foyer, glancing curiously at Jeremiah's guests.
Tiffany clutched her wrist anxiously. "Maybe this was a bad idea…"
"Too late now," Katherine whispered, placing a comforting hand on her back.
They moved closer to the living room doors, when one of the maids carrying a silver tray came into view—she froze mid-step, her eyes locking onto Tiffany.
The tray clattered loudly to the floor, sending cutlery ringing across the tiles.
Jeremiah turned, startled. "What the—?"
Footsteps followed. Heavy, rushed, and filled with urgency.
Jeremiah's father stepped into view—a tall, broad-shouldered man with graying temples, dressed in a loose robe with a cane in one hand. His face looked as if it had been chiseled from solemnity.
"What's going on—" he began, then stopped short as his eyes landed on Tiffany.
He went pale. His cane wobbled. His lips parted without sound.
"...Aurora?" he whispered.
Tiffany froze.
"I—I'm not—" she began.
But before she could continue, Jeremiah's father stepped forward, eyes wide with tears. He dropped the cane and reached for her face with trembling hands, cupping her cheeks gently.
"You look just like her," he murmured, voice breaking. "The same eyes. The same presence."
Tiffany stood motionless, overcome by the raw emotion in his face.
"I'm not Aurora," she said softly. "I'm her daughter."
Tears streamed down the man's cheeks.
"Then… then I have so much to tell you."
And he pulled her into a tight, desperate embrace.
Jeremiah and Katherine stood back, watching silently.
Milo hovered near Jeremiah's shoulder, its tail curling with quiet tension.
And in that moment, as Tiffany stood in the arms of a man who had once loved her mother, everything about her world began to change.