III Autumn

W eeks elapse, and autumn settles beige then pumpkin shades of orange in the trees, until Sol is finally met with familiar sights of roads he has traveled before—once alone six years ago, now, with Yohan today. He can hardly believe it, when the small town he'd left behind comes into view on the horizon—it looks so much more whimsical than he'd remembered.

Still, Sol's heart grows heavy with the anticipation of a confession; of having to explain why he has returned changed with a fiancé by his side, and brand new mage robes, destined to only be donned by men— a detail that will be lost on the average villager, but definitely not to Androcles.

Yohan squeezes Sol's hand. "Ready?" he asks.

They've forsaken traveling by horse now, having decided to walk the rest of the way for the sake of nostalgia, and to give Yohan's stallion a well-deserved rest.

Sol stares at the little houses lining Featherlaine's circular edges. He takes a deep breath. He isn't ready. Not when he could lose everything. Not when he could lose Androcles, his mentor, his only connection to what he loved about the past—his only remaining family, even if not by blood, who took him in all those years ago when no one else would.

But… "There won't ever be a right time," Sol mutters before he strides forth then leads Yohan onward, into the town he hopes they will still be able to call home by sundown. "So, I may as well get this over with now."

As they arrive before the gates, Sol stops in his tracks for a brief moment. He tugs at Yohan's cape, urging the knight towards him.

And Yohan leans down to kiss him. "For good luck," he tells Sol in a whisper, and then, "I'll be here."

Sol is thankful for the reminder; he is certain Yohan can feel his hand trembling against his armor. He knows he is doing nothing wrong, but he also knows, not everyone may understand. And that is the part that scares him—being ostracized for being happy.

Sol leaves footsteps behind in the damp, dirt path. He holds his head high. As he nears, he hears the sounds of the townsfolk growing louder.

He enters Featherlaine.

Yohan is by his side, drawing the attention of everyone as always, with his attire and stature; the stallion isn't helping their case either.

And yet, for once , their gazes also linger on Sol. There is surprise, mixed with uncertainty in the ways they look at him. The idea of having possibly already been recognized, and rejected, makes Sol's gut drop. His chest tightens with anxious nerves. But Yohan rubs at Sol's arm from where he'd been holding him. "Be at ease, my love," the knight whispers, "I am here with you."

They turn around another corner, when suddenly, Sol is greeted by familiar sights: there is the bakery Sol would so often visit every other morning with Androcles, and the library he spent many a too late night exploring on the weekends, when it stayed open ‘til midnight. And, of course —eventually— they reach his mentor's little Great Tomes his newest plans to compile an encyclopedia; his engagement to Yohan; and finally—about himself. "And that's…" Sol huffs, as he presses his palms together atop the table Androcles' kind grin only grows wider. "That's all of it, I suppose."

"Sol." Androcles rises from his seat then walks up to Sol, as he sheds a single tear, Androcles hugs Sol from the side with trembling yet nimble arms, then tells him, "How proud of you I am."

Sol finds himself crying, too—tears of relief and of joy.

"And how glad I am," Androcles adds, "to call you my protégé." He sighs, and all the fears Sol once held dissipate into the air, as quickly as the steam that rises from the mugs which hold their hot chocolates across the table. "Welcome home—welcome back, Sol."

Yohan joins them and places a reassuring hand against Sol's back. And as a gratitude-filled grin tugs at Sol's lips, so much that his cheeks hurt, he wonders if life could ever get better than this.

The journey—long and fruitful as it was—has ended.

Sol is finally home, as himself. And he wouldn't wish it any other way.