The grand halls of the Ashenblade estate held a timeless grandeur, their towering ceilings adorned with intricate chandeliers and walls lined with tapestries depicting the family’s proudest victories. Yet, despite the heavy weight of history that filled every corner, the estate felt more alive now. Damien walked beside his mother, Lady Elira, through the familiar corridors. The scent of fresh candles mixed with the faint aroma of herbs from the kitchen, a comforting reminder of home.

“I can’t believe how long it’s been since we’ve had you here for a proper meal,” Elira said softly, her eyes crinkling with a warm smile. “It feels as though the years have slipped away.”

Damien glanced at her, the memories of his childhood rushing back. “I missed this,” he admitted, his voice quiet. “The estate, the family… everything.”

Elira’s smile deepened, but there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. “We missed you too, Damien. But it’s clear now that you were never truly gone. You’ve been fighting your own battles, even if we couldn’t always see it.”

They continued down the corridor, their steps echoing lightly against the polished stone floor. As they approached the grand hall, the sound of laughter and the crackle of a roaring fire grew louder. Damien could hear Selene’s unmistakable voice, animated as always, followed by the deep, steady tone of Kael offering a dry retort. It was a sound he hadn’t realized how much he longed for.

The doors to the grand hall opened, revealing the family gathered around the long oak table. The room was warm and inviting, the light from the chandeliers dancing across the gleaming surfaces of polished silverware and crystal goblets. Selene was perched on the arm of a chair, her crimson cloak draped elegantly over her shoulders. Kael stood near the fireplace, his arms crossed, his usual stoic expression softened by the flickering firelight. At the head of the table sat Alaric, his presence commanding as ever, though there was a rare lightness in his eyes as he looked upon his son.

“Damien,” Alaric said, his voice steady but filled with an unmistakable warmth. “Come, join us.”

Damien moved toward the table, and before he could take a seat, Selene sprang up and pulled him into a fierce embrace. “It’s about time,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “You’ve been away far too long.”

Damien chuckled, returning her hug. “I’m here now.”

Kael approached, giving Damien a firm clap on the shoulder. “You’ve changed,” he remarked, his sharp gaze assessing. “I see it in the way you carry yourself. The forest didn’t just test you—it forged you.”

Damien met his brother’s eyes, a mutual respect passing between them. “It did,” he admitted. “But I wouldn’t have made it without everything I learned from you all.”

Selene smirked, stepping back. “Well, I hope you didn’t forget my lessons on swordplay. You’ll need them if you want to keep up.”

“Don’t worry,” Damien said with a grin. “I think I’ll manage.”

As the family settled around the table, the servants began to bring out platters of food. The feast was abundant—roasted meats, freshly baked bread, and an array of vibrant vegetables. The air filled with the rich aroma of spices and herbs, making Damien’s mouth water. For the first time in what felt like ages, he allowed himself to relax, to simply enjoy the presence of his family and the comforts of home.

Throughout the meal, the conversation flowed easily. They spoke of old stories, of battles fought and victories won. Selene recounted her recent hunts, each tale more daring than the last, while Kael offered his usual dry commentary, much to her annoyance.

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“You remember the time Damien tried to sneak into the armory when he was ten?” Selene said with a laugh. “He thought no one would notice a kid dragging a broadsword twice his size across the floor.”

Damien groaned, but he couldn’t help but laugh. “I was determined to prove I could handle it. I didn’t think the noise would give me away.”

Kael smirked. “You tripped over it before you even made it out of the room.”

“And Father wasn’t pleased,” Selene added, glancing at Alaric, who gave a small, amused nod.

“You were always stubborn,” Alaric said, his deep voice cutting through the laughter. “But that determination served you well.”

There was a pause as Alaric’s words lingered in the air. Damien looked around the table, feeling the weight of the moment. For so long, he had felt like an outsider in his own family, burdened by his curse and the expectations he couldn’t meet. But now, things were different.

“I always wanted to make you proud,” Damien said quietly, his eyes meeting his father’s.

Alaric’s expression softened, and he leaned forward slightly. “You already have,” he said. “More than you know.”

Elira placed a gentle hand on Damien’s arm, her eyes filled with love. “You’ve endured so much, my son. And you’ve come through it stronger than any of us could have imagined. We’re all proud of you.”

Selene raised her goblet, her eyes shining. “To Damien, our Blade’s Chosen.”

The others followed suit, their goblets raised high. Damien lifted his own, a surge of warmth and gratitude filling his chest. “To family.”

The clink of goblets echoed through the hall, and for a moment, everything felt perfect. The weight of the past, the struggles and the doubts, seemed to melt away, replaced by a sense of belonging and unity.

After the meal, the family moved to the sitting room, where a fire crackled warmly in the hearth. They gathered around, their conversation turning to more personal stories and memories.

Selene leaned back in her chair, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Do you remember the old garden maze?” she asked. “We used to play there for hours.”

Damien nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. “And you always claimed you knew the way out, even when we were hopelessly lost.”

“I did know the way,” Selene said with mock indignation. “Eventually.”

Kael snorted. “You once led us in circles for an entire afternoon.”

Selene shot him a glare. “I was eight, and I was being creative.”

Elira laughed softly, her voice filled with fondness. “Those were simpler times. You were all so full of life and curiosity.”

Alaric, who had been quietly listening, spoke up. “Those days shaped who you are. Every challenge, every misstep—they all prepared you for what’s ahead.”

Damien felt a deep sense of connection as he listened to his family. They weren’t just recounting old memories; they were reminding him of the bond they shared, a bond that had endured despite everything.

As the night wore on, the firelight grew dim, and the conversation gradually slowed. One by one, the family members rose to retire for the night, each offering Damien a few final words of encouragement and love.

Selene hugged him tightly once more. “Don’t disappear on us again, okay?”

“I won’t,” Damien promised.

Kael gave him a firm nod. “Rest well. Tomorrow, we’ll see just how much stronger you’ve become.”

Elira kissed his forehead, her eyes shining with pride. “Goodnight, my son.”

Finally, Alaric approached, placing a strong hand on Damien’s shoulder. “You’ve come a long way, Damien,” he said. “But your journey is just beginning. Remember, we’re with you every step of the way.”

Damien nodded, his heart full. “Thank you, Father.”

As Damien made his way to his room, he felt a sense of peace he hadn’t known in years. The warmth of his family’s love and support surrounded him, giving him strength for the path ahead. He lay down in his bed, the familiar comfort of the estate lulling him into a deep, restful sleep.

For the first time in a long time, Damien felt truly at home.