4

  Maria

  Maria was still deep in thought when the door burst open with a loud bang. A group of kids—whom Maria instantly recognized as some of her son's classmates—came rushing in first, running and laughing, followed closely by a stray dog. The dog barreled inside as if it had been chasing the kids and playing along with them. Its paws skidded across the polished floor as the café’s patrons and waiters—carrying trays of coffee—turned their heads in surprise. Some of the customers gasped, while the startled waiters nearly spilled their cups. The dog, a lively golden-haired Labrador, slid several meters, desperately trying to find some traction. Its nails ticked frantically against the floor, its body twisting in an involuntary, comical dance. Finally, it crashed into a waiter, causing him to lose his balance and tip over his coffee pot. The dog eventually came to a stop, tongue lolling and eyes sparkling with excitement, surveying the room with curiosity and joy—before dashing off again.

  "Stop him!" Luca shouted, as the dog darted between people’s legs, barking happily. Erica emerged from the restroom door. "Erica, hey!" the kids called out in chorus, struggling to keep their balance as the dog continued its chaotic sprint.

  Maria, stunned by the sudden commotion, stopped one of the boys.

  "Hello! But… whose dog is this?"

  "We don’t know!" Marco replied, laughing. "He started following us a while ago, so we began running, and he kept chasing us. And then, well, here we are!" Amid the general chaos, the dog jumped onto one of the sofas, trying to snag a slice of cake sitting there, knocking over a cushion that landed by Maria’s feet. She picked it up while simultaneously trying to guard the cake.

  "This whole mess reminds me of last night’s party," Giulia said with a laugh. "When Michael spilled the punch bowl!"

  Maria’s eyes widened. Michael. She thought about her son, oblivious to the secrets she’d kept from him for so long—the Light, the school, even her role as Grand Master. "Michael did what?" she asked, shooing the dog’s head away from the table. The kids froze, realizing they had let slip something Maria wasn’t supposed to know. Erica, who had just returned from the restroom and was sitting down at the table at that moment, tried to stifle her laughter but failed.

  "Yeah, it was a small accident," Erica explained, trying to downplay it.

  Maria buried her face in one hand, shaking her head. "I can’t believe it. And here I was thinking the night had gone smoothly."

  "Smoothly? With Michael?" Luca laughed. "There’s never a dull moment with him!"

  Meanwhile, the dog had found a toy and was happily chewing on it under the table. Erica moved closer to Maria, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

  "Don’t worry, Maria. It was just a small mishap!"

  The room was filled with laughter as the kids tried to capture the dog, which seemed to be having the time of its life. The tension from the earlier conversation melted away, replaced by a light and cheerful atmosphere.

  Maria placed a hand on her face, torn between amusement and embarrassment. "How is this even possible? Tell me he was at least pushed, or drunk—please, just tell me he was drunk. I’d prefer that, I swear."

  "Nope, not at all. He was just distracted, as always!"

  "And afterward? Did he at least apologize?"

  Erica laughed. "He muttered something, picked up a few napkins to clean, but I told him to leave it alone."

  "And then?"

  "Then he sulked in a corner without saying anything else."

  "Erica, I'm sorry…" Maria said, clearly feeling regretful about her son’s actions.

  "For what?"

  "He didn’t even help you clean up."

  "It’s fine—others helped me. And besides, Michael is adorable when he’s like that."

  "Adorable? In my day, we would have called him a dork."

  Erica laughed again. She was like a completely different person when she talked about her friends—especially Michael—and when, for a moment, she could set aside the responsibilities her power carried. Michael, of course, also possessed the Light, but he was a whole different story.

  "But where is he now? Why isn’t he here with the others?"

  "Michael?"

  "Of course, Michael…" A strange question, especially coming from Erica herself…

  Erica sighed and shrugged before dropping her bombshell. "I think he’s with Jonata."

  Maria’s breath caught in a moment that felt eternal. "Ingrid’s son? The Sister?"

  "Yeah, they finally talked. Yesterday, at my party. Then they went out to the garden."

  Maria pressed her palms against the table as if preparing to stand up. "The garden? Doing what?"

  "Exactly that, Maria. Michael knows everything now—I have no doubt."

  If someone overheard them now, Maria thought, they’d assume Michael was gay. Fortunately, in the heat of the moment, she had forgotten to lower her voice. She couldn’t risk revealing the secret of the Light to the entire room. She turned to ensure no one at the other tables was eavesdropping on their conversation, then continued.

  Maria found herself thinking about those movies where parents sit down with their kids to explain the birds and the bees… But she needed to refocus on the more pressing matter.

  "Let’s hope Edgar and I raised him well. Why hasn’t he come to me yet, asking for answers?"

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  "Maybe he still doesn’t know who you are. I mean, he doesn’t know you have the gift of the Light—let alone that you were a teacher at the School of Light, or the Grand Master."

  "If he doesn’t know, he’ll find out soon enough. Jonata will tell him."

  "But even Jonata doesn’t know you’re the Grand Master of Europe."

  Maria paused to consider. Ingrid had indeed been given strict instructions: not to tell her son anything about who Maria truly was. But no one had forbidden her from talking about her memories from her youth—when Maria had been her teacher…

  "No, I don’t think Ingrid told him. But she definitely talked about her education at the school in Rome, and indirectly, about me. Once Jonata meets Michael, the only boy with the Light here in Rosenfield, apart from him, of course, he’ll just have to put two and two together."

  Erica nodded. "But all this secrecy… I can’t wait to stop hiding things from Michael and Jonata. I wish they knew—I want to stop lying to them."

  Maria sighed. "You know it’s all up to you, right? You’re a full-fledged Queen now—you can finally start making decisions for your own life."

  "I know. But I don’t think the time has come yet."

  "It’s your call."

  Maria finished her coffee and wiped her lips with a napkin.

  Erica, lost in thought, let a smile soften her features. "I know," she repeated, drifting into her thoughts.

  Something wasn’t right—it was obvious. Maria wasn’t a Queen like Erica, but she could understand her as if she were her own daughter; after all, Erica had been like a daughter to her for so long.

  "Come on, tell me. What are you hiding?"

  "I can’t fully embrace being a Queen yet. I don’t feel ready." She hesitated for a moment. "That girl…"

  "The one from your dreams?"

  "Yes, her."

  Maria frowned. She had thought—or rather hoped—that it was a thing of the past.

  "Who is she? What does she want?"

  "How should I know? I haven’t mastered Omni-Luminal yet, so I cannot use Navigation to try to read her mind—you know that. But…"

  "But?"

  "There’s one thing I’m sure of now."

  "Her mind…" Erica hesitated. "I was in the Light, in a space created by her..."

  Erica’s fingers curled tightly against the table. “She’s using Realm of Light,” she murmured, the words brittle. It wasn’t jealousy—it was fear. Malee had already stepped into the highest echelon of power, wielding techniques Erica couldn’t touch yet. Even as a Queen, Erica knew she wasn’t ready to face her—not when every attempt to use Realm of Light had eluded her grasp."

  "What? It can’t be!"

  The words caught in her throat. The incredible ability of that girl to enter dreams from miles away without requiring any apparent connection—a touch, for example, or a shared sensation… She was a Queen, they knew that. But to already be using Real of Light... Was she preparing for… No, it couldn’t be!

  "Erica, are you telling me that…"

  "Yes, it all looked like she was preparing for a war."

  "In the Light? Like a battle of Queens?"

  "Yes, without a doubt."

  Her breath faltered, a memory surfacing unbidden—Michael at seven, cradling a jar of fireflies, their glow evoking the infinite vibrations of the Light. She had promised to protect him, a promise as fragile as the flickering wings inside the glass. But the truth, carved into the ancient histories, loomed over her: the battle between Queens is unavoidable, woven into the Light itself. Even as Grand Master of the Western World, Maria’s role was not to prevent destiny, but to prepare her son for it, however heartbreaking that might be. "We expected it. And why does she keep contacting the kids who possess the Light? Should we be worried?"

  "I don’t think so—I don’t sense any malice in her. But sometimes… it feels like I’m being threatened."

  "You’re two Queens. Remember what I taught you. One way or another, you will meet and clash. History proves it."

  "I know."

  "Is that all you feel? A sense of threat?"

  "No, not at all. I’ve felt something. Something…" Erica swallowed, "horrible."

  Maria knew all too well that Erica didn’t use euphemisms. She never exaggerated in her descriptions or judgments. If she had used the word “horrible,” it meant there was real cause for concern.

  Maria’s fingers clenched around her cup, its warmth anchoring her as her mind whirred with alarming possibilities. The truth Erica had just revealed pressed heavily upon her—a truth potent enough to shatter lives. Malee wasn't just another Illuminate with ambition; she was a Queen, and her plans extended far beyond what Maria had dared to imagine.

  "Michael," she whispered under her breath, almost as if she were calling him to her in that moment. Michael remained unaware of the Light’s vast, volatile realm threatening to upend his life. Maria's heart ached knowing that his life would never be simple again, especially with the impending clash between the Queens.

  Erica's eyes softened, sensing Maria's turmoil. "Don’t worry too much, Maria. He’s stronger than he looks. Malee might be preparing for war, but Michael… he has something special. Something even I can’t fully understand."

  Maria glanced at Erica, a flicker of hope piercing her fear. "He doesn’t know yet. About the Light. About me. About any of this," she said quietly.

  Erica tilted her head slightly, a contemplative look on her face. "But he will, Maria. And when he does… I think he’ll surprise all of us."

  Maria wasn’t sure if Erica’s words brought her comfort or dread. She knew her son’s heart better than anyone—his capacity for kindness, his relentless curiosity—but could those qualities survive the storm that was coming? Could Michael withstand being pulled into a realm so vast and unyielding, so full of choices that could break him?

  "How much time do we have before she acts?" Maria asked finally, her voice steadier now, but tinged with urgency.

  Erica exhaled slowly, her expression more serious than ever. "Not much. A few months at best. She's still building her forces, but she's clever. Every connection she makes, every step she takes… When it happens, we’ll all be drawn into the Realm of Light, whether we’re ready or not."

  Maria’s fingers clenched around her coffee cup, its warmth grounding her as her mind raced with alarming possibilities. The dual roles of being Michael’s mother and the Grand Master pressed heavily on her shoulders. She would have to navigate this delicate balance carefully, ensuring Michael was prepared without compromising his innocence too quickly.

  "Does she know about Michael?" Maria asked, her voice trembling slightly.

  Erica hesitated, then nodded. "She does. I could see it in her Realm. The way she crafted the space—it wasn’t just random. She’s aware of him, and I think she might see him as more than just another Illuminate. But what exactly she plans for him… I can’t tell yet."

  "I don’t understand."

  "They were drawn to each other, I could see it."

  "In which way? Was she trying to do something to him?"

  Erica’s eyes widened. "Do something? No… I don’t know… The way they looked at each other, like they couldn’t help but reach out... it made me sick. I hated it."

  Jealousy…. That’s the last thing we need. Maria’s thoughts churned, weighing Erica’s feelings not just as a friend but as a Queen. And Michael—her son—stood precariously at the center of it all. "Sounds like she’s already gotten under his skin." Her gaze hardened.

  Erica blinked, caught off guard by Maria’s intensity. She hesitated before answering, her voice quieter. "I guess it just felt… strange to see. Like something you couldn’t stop, even if you wanted to."

  Maria’s gaze lingered on Erica. She might be a Queen, but the Light demanded growth, refinement, mastery—and Malee’s power was proof of how ruthless that journey could be. But it wasn’t just Erica; Michael and Jonata would have to scale their abilities as well, learning to wield the Light at levels that could stand against the storm ahead. Maria knew this better than anyone: progression wasn’t just survival—it was destiny. And bonds like those… they could complicate everything.

  As Grand Master of the Western World, Maria knew she couldn’t afford hesitation. The world demanded leaders who acted decisively, and Michael’s preparation couldn’t wait—not when the clash between Queens loomed so close. He had to learn to wield the Light—to master it—not for her sake, but for his survival. And now, with Malee weaving a connection to him—a bond that felt as inevitable as it was dangerous—he would face a choice. Michael was being drawn into something larger than himself, a connection that didn’t just tangle him with Malee, but with Erica as well. The threads of their fates were tightening, pulling them into a web of alliances and rivalries that Maria feared even she couldn’t untangle.

  Her thoughts must have lingered too long, or perhaps Erica could sense the shift within her. The younger woman leaned forward, her expression calm but filled with quiet resolve.

  "Maria," Erica said softly, her voice carrying an unshakable certainty. "I’m not sure I’m ready to carry all the responsibilities of being a Queen—not yet. But about Michael…" She paused, meeting Maria’s gaze. "You don’t need to worry. I’ll protect him. No matter what happens, you can trust me on that."