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Chapter 30

Olas wandered through his grand halls in a daze, every step burdened by invisible weights. The chill of despair seemed to permeate every breath he took, seeping deep into his very soul, causing his paws to tremble. His tears had left a mark upon his feathers, a symbol of the piece of himself that had been brutally torn away. Nights and days once filled with cherished thoughts had turned dark and bitter. The world surrounding him had now become a prison, devoid of his daughter and bereft of any soul who truly cared for his existence.

The days ahead loomed with unrelenting darkness; his heart weakened as he began to unravel the life he once believed he had. Staring out of the windows at the fields below only elicited a pained whine, for he knew they would never possess the same radiant luster as before. How was he to navigate this daunting path? His usual methodical approach to planning things seemed to crumble before it even began, every thread of his intentions unraveling with each step. The words he needed to speak, asking Leon to join him, felt heavy and unnatural upon his beak, as though they should belong to someone else. He nearly vomited as he rehearsed them in front of his mirror. What stung the most was that both his father and Isadora had been right all along. Every doubt he had harbored had now been proven painfully correct.

He collapsed onto his bed, a mere shell of a gryphon, drained of everything that once gave him purpose. He withered away, his chest throbbing with an overwhelming pain.

A faint buzzing emanated from a crystal ball across the room, catching his ear with a great crowing sound that resonated throughout the halls. Olas let out a weary groan, well aware of who the caller was going to be. It would undoubtedly be his father, displeased with Olas's abrupt end to their previous call, likely launching into a tirade about his immaturity. But ignoring the call was a far less appealing option. With another groan, Olas summoned the strength to lift his weary body, trudging his way to the crystal ball and activating its intricate runes.

"Yes, father?" Olas responded with an exasperated tone.

"Olas? I mean, if you'd like to call me daddy, that's fine."

To Olas's surprise, it was Leon on the other end of the call. His heart skipped a beat, for the half-elf never reached out to him. "Leon, you're awake! Thank the stars that you're alright."

"Course I am, Hekate took care of me. Sorry about not calling you right away."The mercenary's visage was cast mere inches from him, just as handsome and charming as it had always been. "Just, we had to get some personal stuff here sorted?" The half-elf sheepishly smiled, looking to faces the lord could not see. "Turns out there not so bad after all, I hope you were none too worried."

"Me? Worried about it?" Olas attempted to mask his surprise, interjecting a laugh. "Of course not, Leon, it was perfectly understandable." Yet as he fell into the familiar pattern, it did little to lift his spirits. Instead, it weighed heavily on his heart. He grew reticent, hesitating to broach the topic that plagued his mind. "Look, Leon, I'd like to discuss our-"

"I know I don't usually resort to this method to reach y ou," Leon interjected, his voice carrying a hint of apprehension as he fidgeted with his stance. "But I've had this wild idea brewing." He hesitated, as if grappling with the weight of his next words. "You and I, we've been through quite a bit together. Your actions, saving me...they've made me ponder my own path and what I truly desire in life."

"Leon--" Olas attempted to interject, his voice soft and cautious.

"These two gryphon companions of mine, they're planning a special excursion to Whitedell. It's one of those dress-up affairs," Leon continued, his gaze unwavering as it met Olas's troubled eyes. "They seem content with each other's company and suggested I find a companion to join me. Would you do me the honor?"

Olas's heart thundered in his chest, his senses sharpened as if awakening from a long and troubled dream. Could it be that his fervent prayers had been answered in this unexpected turn of events? Here he was, not in a fanciful reverie, but faced with an authentic opportunity. The realization dawned on him like a rising sun, banishing the darkness that had encased his spirit. He touched his chest gently, almost disbelieving the sudden surge of hope that bloomed within him. The intensity of Leon's gaze anchored him to the present moment, and Olas found himself lost in the half-elf's earnest eyes.

"Leon..." Olas murmured softly, as if afraid the enchantment might shatter at the slightest disruption, "Are you asking me out on a date?"

The response was immediate, unequivocal. Leon nodded, a gentle smile gracing his features. "I do believe I am. So, what do you say, Olas Mysticfeather? Would you be my date?"

There was no room for hesitation. Olas's heart sang in jubilation as he threw a joyful gaze to the heavens. "Of course, I will! Oh, my dear Leo, you have no idea how much this means to me." With a spring in his step and renewed vigor, Olas rose to his full height, his wings spreading wide in exultation. "When did you want me to be there?"

"If you don't me asking...would you like to fly us there in a few hours' time?"

"Oh, of course my darling Leon!" Olas replied, his tail swishing with unrestrained joy. "I'll be counting the minutes until I'm ready." He leaned in to leave a tender kiss on the crystal ball, sealing the exhilarating conversation. As he stowed away the orb, a newfound light illuminated the corridors of his soul. Olas twirled and danced through the echoing halls, a euphoric melody escaping his beak as he cast aside the lingering shadows of doubt. Even the images of his father and Isadora, etched into the walls, were met with an irreverent display of defiance as he flipped them off with a defiant flap of his wings.

"Fuck you, father! He does love me!" Olas bellowed, a triumphant smirk gracing his beak. To Isadora, he hurled a series of choice invectives, each laced with a newfound sense of defiance. "Cause he fucking loves me! Take that up your back end!"

From down the hall, Olivia's voice cut through his exchange, "Something the matter, Lord Olas? Gone mad with power again?"

A hearty chuckle escaped Olas as he gathered his wits, his voice resolute, "No, Olivia; mad with love!"

"Very well, should I fetch a towel?" Olivia's tone was measured but tinged with a hint of amusement.

Olas smoothed his ruffled feathers, taking in his disheveled appearance. Dirty feathers, tear-stained fur--this would not do. He puffed out his chest, a glint of determination in his eye. "Fetch more than a towel! Start the bath, prepare the brushes! I must look magnificent for my man!"

As he prepared to make himself presentable, a surge of emotions overwhelmed him. Laughter and tears mingled freely, cascading down his beak and onto the floor. In the midst of his deepest despair, when darkness threatened to consume him whole, Leon had arrived just as he had always envisioned.