The airship drifted steadily through the skies, its sails glimmering faintly under the sun. Clouds rolled like pale oceans beneath it, parting to reveal the sprawling lands of the Velden region—mountain ridges painted in mist, rivers glinting like ribbons of glass, and villages scattered across the green plains. Jaynor leaned against the deck's railing, wind threading through his dark hair, the scent of magic and ozone lingering in the air.
He closed his eyes for a moment and listened to the hum of the airship's runes pulsing below his feet. The academy felt distant already, like a dream fading with morning light. He had left it behind with his usual careless grin, but a flicker of nostalgia touched him now. He remembered the courtyard, the laughter, Kate's sly smile under the sunlight. He exhaled a quiet chuckle and straightened, letting the world rush by beneath him.
The trip to Drastton took the better part of the afternoon. The sun was beginning its slow descent when the city finally came into view—vast and alive, its tall spires catching the light, its streets lined with market stalls and crystal lanterns that began to glow as evening settled. Canals laced through the city, and the main tower of the Magic Ministry gleamed in the heart of it like a beacon. Drastton always looked grand from above, but to Jaynor it was simply home.
Once the airship docked at the skyport, he slung his satchel over his shoulder and made his way down the ramp. The bustle of the city wrapped around him instantly—voices, laughter, the scent of roasted nuts from a nearby vendor, the faint hum of enchantments woven into the cobblestone streets. A carriage awaited at the gates, one of the family's. Its black body was etched with protective sigils that glowed faintly when he approached.
The driver bowed his head. "Welcome home, young master Jaynor. The family's been expecting you."
Jaynor climbed in with a lazy grin. "Good to know someone missed me."
The carriage rattled along the streets of Drastton, passing through the familiar districts—the merchant quarters, the healer's avenue, and the Ministry district where his brother likely worked long hours chasing magical crimes and paperwork alike. The rhythm of the wheels lulled him, and his thoughts drifted. He remembered the day he'd first come to this house years ago, when the world still felt foreign. He was reincarnated in this world but was abandoned by his parents but he was soon found by this family and they adopted him. Madolyna had been the mother he needed, even though she wasn't his real mother, she raised him like one.
By the time the carriage rolled to a stop before the gates of their manor, twilight had fallen. The gates creaked open, and the house beyond shimmered with faint enchantments—runic light tracing along its pillars and rooflines. It wasn't ostentatious, but there was quiet pride in every brick, every spell woven into its structure. Jaynor stepped out, stretching, the cool air brushing over him like a welcome.
Inside, the scent of herbs and warm bread greeted him immediately. He smiled, recognizing it. The kitchen—always the heart of the house. He followed the smell down the corridor until he reached the doorway, where soft golden light spilled out. His mother stood at the counter, her back to him, her long hair braided loosely, sleeves rolled up as she stirred something simmering on the stove. Even from behind, she radiated that quiet, commanding grace he'd always associated with her—Madolyna, the fairy mage once feared and revered in equal measure, now living her days in peace.
He paused for a moment, watching her, his mind stirring with memories—the first time she had called him 'son,' the first meal she had made for him, the gentle way she had scolded him for overusing mana during practice. A strange fondness tightened in his chest, an emotion that blended gratitude, nostalgia, and something deeper he couldn't quite name.
Without a word, he stepped forward, moving silently until he was close enough to catch the faint shimmer of the aura that always surrounded her. He slipped his arms around her from behind in a loose, affectionate hug. She didn't startle—she never did. Her magic had already told her who he was long before he touched her.
"Welcome home, Jaynor," she said softly, her voice warm and rich. "I felt your presence the moment you crossed the gate. You're later than I thought."
"Got held up," he murmured near her ear, resting his chin lightly on her shoulder. "You know how the professors are—can't let me go without a lecture or three."
Madolyna smiled faintly, setting down her spoon. "They must think highly of you to delay your journey just to give you parting words."
"Maybe," he said with a small chuckle. "Or maybe they just like hearing themselves talk."
She laughed quietly, the sound light and melodic. "Still the same boy. Carefree as ever."
He tilted his head slightly, his breath stirring against her neck. "Wouldn't be me otherwise."
Her hands reached up, resting over his for a brief moment. The touch was tender, steadying. "You've grown," she said, almost to herself. "In strength, yes—but also in spirit. I can feel it. There's something different in your aura."
"Guess I've had a lot of time to think," Jaynor replied, his tone softening. "Being away has a way of doing that."
She turned her head just enough that their eyes met briefly in the reflection of the window glass—hers gleaming with quiet affection, his with that same roguish light she always found impossible to scold.
"Your father and the others will be home soon," she said after a pause. "You should go and wash up. Dinner will be ready shortly."
Jaynor hesitated a moment longer, then released her slowly, stepping back with a grin. "Fine, fine. But don't expect me to stay clean for long—I plan to make the most of being home."
Madolyna shook her head, smiling despite herself. "I would expect nothing less."
He left the kitchen then, the warmth of her presence lingering like a spell around him. The hallway stretched ahead, filled with echoes of laughter and footsteps long past. His brother's stern voice from upstairs, his sister's soft humming from the garden, the faint rustle of his father's pipe—every sound felt like a chord in a familiar song.
For all his otherworldly memories and the life he had lived before this one, this place felt real in a way that nothing else did. And as he moved through the house, he couldn't help the thought that whispered in the back of his mind: this time, he wouldn't waste it. This life—this strange, magic-filled world—was his now. And he intended to live it without restraint.
Outside, the night deepened, the city lights flickering to life beyond the hills. The scent of herbs and home filled the air, and for the first time in a long while, Jaynor felt entirely at peace.