The Only Son Amongst The Daughters Of Eros

The mornings were also beautiful in the Elysium Plains. There was no discernible sun in the sky, but the light was heavy and bright, its warmth spilling across an endless stretch of rolling greenery.

Dew clung to the blades of grass, glistening like scattered diamonds, while a crisp, fragrant breeze rustled through the canopies of tall, ancient trees. The sky was with cotton-white clouds drifting lazily above, while the large and spectacularly shaped trees designed the resplendent Region.

Here, high upon the floating terraces of the Elysium Region, the world was a perfect harmony of nature and civilization. People from most Regions also knew this. Because of how attuned they were with Divinity, they were more advanced than the other Regions.

To show the adept beauty of this Region, everywhere one looked, there were displays of polished white stone woven through lush fields and sloping hills, connecting towns that seemed sculpted from the very land itself.

Houses were amazements. Strong and silver-lined, having fortified rooftops of wood and balconies wrapped with beautiful vines and plants. Bridges of pale marble arched over streams of crystalline water, where fish with translucent fins swam in slow, elegant spirals.

This morning, aware that Mother Aphra had left to see the Disciples and plan for the Wave War, the people were determined to make as much money and get as much things done as possible before hell descended on them from the Snake Queen.

The streets were alive with movement, Elfbloods with long ears, Fairies, small and radiant, flitting around them, and Human-bloods, though less ethereal in presence, moving with equal purpose, their warm voices rising in conversation as they bartered, traded, and carried out their daily routines.

Merchants called out to passersby from wooden stalls showcasing fabrics, fresh herbs, and vials of glowing liquid. Children darted through the streets, their laughter ringing like wind chimes in the breeze. The scent of sweetbread and herbal incense lingered in the air, mixing with the distant melody of a bard's lute.

But amid the grandeur of the Elysium Plains and its bustling heart, in the common people town of Gentleleaf, there was a small hut, humble and sparsely adorned.

It was nestled between two larger buildings at the edge of a cobblestone street, and below the roof was a wooden sign board that read: Healer Edna's Sanctuary

People passed by it without much thought, their focus elsewhere. Some spared it a glance, acknowledging its presence before moving on. They knew it belonged to the widowed maiden who once delivered children for the Mothers.

The wooden gate creaked open as a middle-aged woman walked past, dressed in a simple white gown that draped over her form like woven mist. It covered her completely, leaving no room for vanity or display, though the fabric was tight on her curves and flowing on the ground like a holy carpet.

She bore no jewelry, like it was a punishment for being a widow, she just chose to remain simple. Her hair, a deep chestnut laced with silver, was tied in a loose braid over one shoulder.

She was with a man, walking with a limp. As she led him towards the door of the inn, his eyes carried a relief that had long eluded him. He turned to the woman, offering a deep bow.

"Thank you, Healer Edna," he said, sounding sincere. "Your work has done wonders for me."

Edna hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding, her hands clasped together. "You're welcome," she replied gently. "After your treatment today, the curse will be completely gone. I'm certain."

The man smiled, rubbing his knees where faint remnants of darkened veins had once pulsed with corruption. Without another word, she led him inside, the wooden door shutting behind them with a soft click.

—

Inside, the hut smelled of dried herbs and freshly brewed tea. On the shelves on the walls were glass vials containing healing liquids, some neatly folded cloth, and bound tomes on the art of healing.

The main chamber was small but orderly, with a wooden table at the center, a few chairs, and a woven rug beneath their feet. A single window allowed the whitish light of the Elysium clouds to spill in, painting the room in warm hues.

The man exhaled, approaching the chair she motioned to. "I'll admit," he said, a hint of hesitation in his voice, "I'll miss coming here."

Edna, standing beside a wooden cabinet, pulled out a small ceramic bowl filled with a thick, green salve. She turned to him, trying to keep her expression kind although she felt slightly uncomfortable. "Today is your last session," she reminded him. "You won't need to come back."

The man chuckled, eyeing her as she moved around. "Still, Healer Edna. I will miss you as well. I got used to this place. To our conversations." He leaned back. "Are you sure it's the last day?"

A small, weary smile touched Edna's lips. She looked up from the cabinet. "Quite sure."

The man sighed, disappointed but resigned. He was about to say something else when—

"I completely understand. Lady Edna has a... gentle touch."

A dark, masculine voice broke the air.

Both Edna and the man froze. In unison, their heads snapped toward the corner of the room.

Sitting in a chair, half-draped in shadows, was a figure that they had not noticed at first. His posture was relaxed, yet there was an unmistakable sharpness in his presence.

His dark hair fell over his striking crimson eyes, and his shoulders were draped with a regal red cape. Although he was young, evidently someone like this had long abandoned innocence. Aeric.

The man shot up from his seat. "Wha—"

Edna took an unconscious step forward, her breath catching.

"Son Aeric," she murmured, barely above a whisper.

The man blinked, his confusion deepening. "Son Aeric?" He echoed, eyes widening in shock.

Aeric's gaze slid to him, no expression on his face. "Leave us."

The man hesitated, glancing between Edna and Aeric. "But— I have a session today—"

Instantly, fire lit up the room, blazing to life in Aeric's palm and casting shadows across the walls.

He glared at the insignificant man. "I won't repeat myself."

The man inhaled sharply, stepping back as the flickering embers reflected in his widening eyes. Without another word, he turned and bolted, suddenly no longer having a limp as he ran for his dear life.

The door swung open and slammed shut behind him, leaving a tense silence.

The silence continued for a while.

Edna, who had been staring at the door after the man left, turned back silently to face Aeric. She remained still, intimidated by his handsome gaze, her fingers tightening against the hem of her sleeve. The sudden appearance, the flames, the sheer command in his dark voice — it left her momentarily stunned. Nervous.

Aeric's gaze remained on her, his presence overwhelming in the confined space.

"You're nervous," he observed.

Edna swallowed, finding her voice. "I... I thought I would never see you again."

Aeric's expression didn't change. "Did you?"

She hesitated, searching for the right words. "You didn't return after the first day of your..." she faltered, before clearing her throat. "Treatment."

Then she spoke again, almost like she was heartbroken. "You told me you would."

A slow smirk touched Aeric's lips. "Well, here I am now."

Then he stood, stepping toward her.

And the room suddenly felt much, much smaller.