Elros

When the rift in the Gilded Sky opened, there wasn't immediately hellfire like he expected. The peaceful golden landscape wasn't torn to shreds by giant, stabbing, thorned branches, but instead, a soft, gentle light somehow managed to pour in against the already glittering scene. As Elros peered out, the once-familiar sight of Sornieth flooded his vision for the first time in decades. While he expected to see the endless jungle of the Viridian Labyrinth, the rift had instead opened up over the massive Daylight Sanctum, its stark bright marble almost glittering in the mid-afternoon sun.

The war he was expecting to enter into did not come. Instead, looking up at him, his two parents, although he barely recognized them. His father's once wild demeanor and vibrant coloration was now something more...familiar. Softer. His mother, although physically the same as he remembered, carried herself in a different way. More confident, in control, calculated.

They did not come up to meet him, but instead stood patiently on the soil beneath, looking up at the tear in the sky. They showed visible age, which was a bit sobering for the Mirror. To them, he still looked almost the same as the day he left. His time spent in the Gilded Sky essentially put his biology on pause.

As he stuck his right leg through the rift, he hesitated, not out of fear or second thoughts, but at the sensation of warmth on his scales. The Gilded Sky had always been comfortable, but the warmth out here, back home...was real. Tangible. The Sky had been a construct, made to simulate perfect conditions, but Elros never realized so many details were missing.

--
They weren't perfect. They expected so much, yet gave you so little to work with. You did everything you could. It was enough. It was always enough.
It was okay to say goodbye, even if it wasn't on your own terms. Even if they weren't there to hear it.
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