In the distance, barely hidden beneath a canopy of leaves and dense undergrowth, Lyon’s silvery hair shimmered, stark against the shadowy swamp. My heart clenched. I didn’t even have time to gasp before I sprinted toward him. Relief should have come flooding in, but instead, my worry only tightened its grip, like a rope being pulled taut.

The seconds it took to reach him felt endless, every step stretching time, as if I were moving through water. I had seen him—he was safe. And yet, until I could hold him, until I could feel his small, warm body in my arms and smooth down his unruly hair, I wouldn’t believe it. My heart wouldn’t let me.

As I drew closer, the rest of him came into view. His figure emerged fully from the shadows, pausing my frantic emotions for the briefest of moments. A flicker of confusion sparked inside me, soft and unexpected.

It lasted only for a moment, and no more, but in that frame of a second, he... he was glowing.

Lyon’s entire body shimmered with a light so pure—mythical even, it felt like it didn’t belong in this world. The darkness of the swamp seemed to bend away from him, retreating, as if trying to run away, scared of him. He looked so small, yet that radiating aura, made him seem larger than a Scarlet Sentinel.

And then, as quickly as it appeared, the light vanished, leaving me breathless and bewildered. But I had no time to dwell on it—there were more pressing emotions clawing at my chest.

“Lyon!” I called out, my voice breaking as I rushed forward.

He was facing away from me, hunched over something I couldn’t quite make out. The moment he turned around, his wide, startled eyes met mine, and I knew. I didn’t need to ask him anything—his expression said it all.

Without a second thought, I dropped to my knees and opened my arms. My hands closing on the fabric of his shirt as I pulled him close, holding him tightly against me. The warmth of his small frame against my chest finally soothed the gnawing worry that had been tearing at me. I exhaled, a long, shaky breath of relief, as my fingers instinctively reached up to smooth his messy hair.

“I’m here, Lyon. I’m here. Everything is going to be alright.” I whispered, my voice shaky yet warm, trying to mask the sweat on my palms and the tremble in my heart.

For a moment, he stayed still, motionless in my embrace. Then I felt it—his tiny hands pressing gently against my lower back. “Thanks, but I’m okay,” he said, his voice muffled, yet energetic, as if he were trying to reassure me.

I paused, glancing down at him, and a new feeling crept in—guilt.

The warmth of his body, the way he held onto me... it felt so familiar, so natural. But was it right? This moment felt different from all the others. I loosened my grip, hesitating as my heart began to calm, and my mind started to race.

‘He’s not really mine,’ I reminded myself, the thought bitter and unsettling. ‘I’m not his mother.’

Before, Lyon had always needed me—needed someone to be there with him, to comfort him. But right now, that wasn’t the case. I had rushed here out of my own frantic worry, out of my selfish desire to protect him. I wanted so badly to be his guardian, to feel like I could step into the role of a mother, but that didn’t mean it was the same for him.

I swallowed hard, slowly releasing him. The weight of my own emotions settled like stones in my chest.

Lyon didn’t pull away, but I did, just enough to let my hands fall from his tiny shoulders, leaving a quiet, invisible space between us. As much as my heart screamed to hold him close, my mind whispered caution.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured, though I wasn’t sure who I was apologizing to—him or myself. Maybe for letting myself get carried away, or for pulling back when I wanted to stay. Maybe both.

I glanced down at him, his wide, mismatched eyes—one blue as the sky, the other red like fire—stared up at me, tiny white embers dancing deep, deep within them, searching for something I wasn’t quite sure off.

But then something caught my attention. His shirt—what was left of it. I hadn’t noticed before, but it was in tatters, barely hanging on. And behind him, I finally noticed the figure that had been laying a few centimeters away.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

It rose weakly, letting out a low huff from its nostrils.

“Horny!” Lyon exclaimed, his face lighting up with joy at the sight of his Deerhorn friend.

I blinked, confusion overriding my earlier emotions. “What happened?” I asked, trying to suppress the flood of feelings still swirling in my chest.

Lyon jolted at the question. “Oh... um, we came here to find the lotus, but we ran into an ugly beast that hurt Horny.”

“Did you get hurt?” I asked, my worry slipping through despite already knowing the answer. His clothes were in ruins—how could he not be hurt?

“No!” he said loudly, and a bit too fast.

He pulled away from my embrace, spinning around to show me. “See? Not even a scratch! I told you I wouldn’t get in danger, didn’t I? And an hour hasn’t passed yet, right? So, I didn’t break any promise!”

He bounced up and down, proud of his accomplishment, and I couldn’t help but smile, even as my suspicion grew.

“Then how did your clothes end up like this?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh... um... I fell into some bushes, and they were full of thorns, so yeah, that’s how my shirt got torn.”

“Right...” I said totally convinced. “And I’m guessing it was the same bush that covered what’s left of your pants in mud, too?”

“N-no!” He stuttered, “It’s because I had to get the lotus! See?” He stepped back, revealing the red flower nestled next to the Dearhorn.

Picking it up, he offered it with both hands, his cheeks reddening in the same color. “Sorry for making you worry.”

My hand moved on its own and I had to force it to not hug Lyon, but the flower instead.

“As long as you are safe.”

He hummed, smiling widely, and for the first time in years, the swamp saw the light of day.

***

After paying our goodbyes to Horny, it was time to head back home.

Outside of the bubbling pods that were reheating on the fireplace, an eerie silence filled the room. Lyon was upstairs, taking a bath while I... I focused on the dishes. At least, that’s what I told myself.

I was beyond relieved that Lyon was safe, but the weight of my actions—the depth of my feelings—still gnawed at me. It was too much, especially now...

“I’m finished!” Lyon’s cheerful voice echoed from upstairs, cutting through my thoughts and filling the house.

Quickly, I lowered the heat on the fireplace and took out the cake, carefully placing it on the table.

“What’s that?” Lyon asked excitedly, practically flying down the stairs in his rush.

I met him with a warm smile. “Today marks one year since you first opened your eyes. And so, I...” My voice faltered, and for a moment, my heart ached with the weight of my unspoken feelings, but I pushed through. “I wanted to make something special for the occasion.”

His eyes widened in disbelief, his mouth hanging open. “Is... is all that for me?” he asked, awe-struck.

“Mhm!” I nodded, my smile softening as I watched his face light up. “And... this.” I moved over to the piano, retrieving the makeshift pendant. Holding it carefully, I turned back to him, my heart pounding. “I wanted to make you a present. I’m sorry for taking your core without asking, but... I hope you like it.”

He took the pendant in his small, hands, lowering his gaze as his hair fell over his eyes.

For a moment, he was still, the pendant clasped tightly in his fingers. Then, in a whisper so soft it barely reached my ears, he spoke.

“Thanks... Mum.”

That word. He...

“W-what did you say, Lyon?” I stammered, my heart racing for a different reason entirely.

But I hadn’t misheard.

“I said, thanks, Mum.” He looked up at me, his eyes shining.

My entire world stopped. The word echoed in my mind, louder than the pounding of my heart.

‘Mum.’

It rang out, clear and pure, washing over me like a wave. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe.

I stared at him, my throat tight, trying to hold back the tears already welling up. They stung at the corners of my eyes, but I didn’t care. It felt like something inside me, something that had been quietly waiting, had finally broken loose. The floodgates opened.

Every doubt I had, every whispered fear that I wasn’t his real mother—it all vanished with that one word.

A sob broke free from my chest, raw and overwhelming. I pulled Lyon into my arms again, my hands shaking as I held him close. This time, I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t let go.

His little hands tightened around me, and I could feel his heartbeat through his shirt, steady and strong. “Thank you, Lyon,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Thank you, my sweet boy.”

Tears blurred my vision as they spilled down my cheeks. I pressed my face into his hair, breathing in his familiar scent, letting the warmth of his small body anchor me in the moment. This was it. This was everything.

For so long, I had held back—afraid to overstep, afraid to claim a place in his life I didn’t think I had a right to. But now, in this moment, he had given me that place.

I held him tighter, laughing through my tears as joy bubbled up uncontrollably.

Lyon looked up at me, a flicker of panic crossing his face as he gently shook me. “Mum, what’s wrong? Why are you crying, Mum?”

Every time he said the word, the flood of emotions intensified, making my tears fall even faster.

His eyes began to quiver, and soon, he was crying too. “Mum, stop, don’t cry!”

Laughing through my sobs, I wiped at my eyes, trying to keep my overwhelming emotions in check. “Don’t worry, Lyon. I’m okay. I’m just really, really happy.”

His cries quieted, but my tears kept flowing. I held him close, wanting to stretch the moment as long as possible.

“Um... Mum?” he said softly, a note of worry in his voice.

“What is it, my dear?”

“The food is burning.”