Page 38 of Magical Mission
He said nothing else, but the way he looked at them held that rare softness in his eyes again. Not pity. Just reverence. Understanding.
It made me wonder if he thought back to his family often. He didn’t mention them much, but I knew the betrayal and abandonment weren’t something easily forgotten.
I turned back to the moment in front of us, anchoring it into memory. My dad, who had followed me like a shadow for months, whose loyalty was legend. My grandma, who had carried her loss in silence so heavy it ached in the air around her. And now, here they were…together and whole.
We didn’t speak or interrupt.
Instead, we slipped past like ghosts. Keegan opened the heavy door with care, the hinges silent as breath.
Outside, the Butterfly Ward glowed in the distance like always, with soft and steady colors blooming faintly beneath the moonlight.
But behind us, on the bench in the corridor, something far more magical was unfolding.
And for once, I didn’t need spells or ancient bloodlines to believe in magic or miracles.
I just needed them together again, mother and son.
Finally home.
The Butterfly Garden always felt like a breath held in the dark. Still, soft, expectant.
It had fully recovered from the energy depletion it had experienced not so long ago and felt like a summer refuge in the midst of transition. It wasn’t quite winter anymore, and it wasn't quite spring.
Keegan and I stood beneath the flowering arches, the stars low and stubborn overhead. The night was filled with the scents of warm earth and the faint tang of magic, like ozone just before a storm. It smelled like the beginning of something. Or the edge of it.
He was quiet, hands tucked into his pockets, one boot scuffing softly at the stones beneath us.
It was the kind of silence I liked. It wasn’t heavy or awkward. It was merely a patient pause.
“So,” he said after a while, not looking at me, but close enough that I felt it when he spoke. “You’ve done it. It’s open.”
I let out a breath and tilted my head back, watching a winged light flicker through the branches.
“Yeah,” I said. “I guess it is. But it would be foolish to give myself an ounce of credit. The Academy does what it does when it wants to do it.”
He laughed and shook his head. “So, you’ve fully grasped that, huh?”
I chuckled and shrugged. “She’s not subtle about it.”
“Indeed.” He made a low noise in his throat, thoughtful, and holding back all the things he could’ve said. Keegan had always been better at silence than speeches.
“I didn’t think I’d be the one to do it,” I admitted, folding my arms. “If you told me a year ago that I’d be the one standing at the center of it all…” I shook my head. “I’d think everyoneneeded to see a doctor. To even think that magic is real. I don’t even know what I would have done.”
“You’d have laughed,” he finished.
“No,” I said, smirking. “I would’ve choked on whatever pastry I was eating and then told you to get your head checked.”
He chuckled.
The garden was glowing just a little brighter tonight.
Keegan turned to look at me, but his expression quieted.
“Are you proud of it?” he asked.
The question caught me off guard.
“Proud?” I echoed. “Yeah. I think so. I mean, yes. I should say yes. Right?”
