The goddess gazed at the glowing crystal floating before her, its surface shifting with the threads of fate. With a playful smirk, she whispered,
"Let's see, Lucas… how you carve your own path now."
With a flick of her fingers, she nudged Lucas' crystal aside, bringing another into view. The image that formed inside made her chuckle—a boy, bloated and sluggish, stuffing himself with food, his once-determined spirit buried under excess.
"How utterly ridiculous." She scoffed, rolling her golden eyes. "You're such a fool in this version."
But her amusement faded as the crystal pulsed, dissolving back into the tapestry of fate. Lucas' story was not yet finished, and the goddess could only watch as the mortal world began to move forward once more.
---
Soft morning sunlight streamed through the cracks in the wooden walls, casting golden streaks across Lucas' face. He opened his weary eyes, but the exhaustion from last night still weighed heavily on him. His chest ached, his emotions still raw from the argument with his mother.
He sat up slowly, rubbing his red, puffy eyes. "I lost control again…" he thought, the guilt gnawing at him. But deep inside, the fire in his heart had not dimmed—it had only burned brighter.
Pushing himself up, Lucas stepped outside, the fresh air doing little to soothe his restless soul. But the moment he saw his mother, his heart clenched.
She was still there.
She sat on the porch, her shoulders slumped, her face pale from a sleepless night. Her eyes, once so strong, were hollow with grief, staring at the ground as if searching for something she could no longer grasp.
Lucas clenched his fists. He couldn't afford to waver now.
With a hardened expression, he spoke.
"Mom, I'm leaving." His voice was firm, but there was a tremor beneath it. "I don't care what you decide while I'm gone, but understand this—I won't be stopped."
His mother flinched, as if his words had struck her deeper than any blade. Her lips trembled as she slowly lifted her head.
"You won't even look me in the eyes when you say that…?" she whispered, her voice cracking.
Lucas stiffened.
"Just once… please, just look at me." Her voice was barely above a breath, yet it carried the weight of a mother's breaking heart. "I don't do this to hurt you, Lucas. I do this because I love you. Because I need you safe."
She swallowed hard, forcing herself to keep speaking.
"I built this place for you. I gave it my magic, my everything… It was supposed to protect you, to keep you from the dangers outside. Please…" She clasped her trembling hands together, her eyes begging him. "Stay."
Lucas turned his gaze toward the gate—the only thing standing between him and the world he longed to see. His jaw tightened.
"No." His voice was cold, distant. "This isn't what I want. It's what you want."
Finally, he turned to look at her. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes burned with determination.
"I don't want your protection, Mom. I want freedom. You can't take that from me."
Then, without another word, he stepped past the gate.
His mother's breath hitched. She reached out as if to stop him—but her hand froze in midair.
She could only watch as her son walked away, his back to her, his silhouette growing smaller with each step.
Her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the wooden chair behind her, tears slipping down her face.
Lucas, now outside, didn't go far.
He sat on the stone steps just beyond the gate, his hands resting on his knees. He exhaled shakily, whispering almost to himself,
"This is for you, Mom. If I stay, I'll only bring more trouble into your life… and I won't let that happen."
But even as he spoke those words, the ache in his chest refused to fade.