The crisp autumn air enveloped Central Park, the trees adorned with leaves of amber, crimson, and gold. The scent of roasted chestnuts mingled with the aroma of pumpkin spice drifting from nearby cafés. Auryn wandered along the winding paths, her footsteps crunching softly on the fallen leaves. She clutched a small, intricately wrapped box—a gift for Stella. It was Thanksgiving, a holiday she was still trying to understand.
As she approached the Bethesda Fountain, she noticed a familiar figure seated on a bench, impeccably dressed in a charcoal-gray suit that contrasted sharply with the vibrant surroundings. Fernando sat with a book in hand, his posture relaxed yet elegant. He looked up as she drew near, a subtle smile playing on his lips.
“Auryn,” he greeted, his voice carrying a hint of British sophistication mixed with Spanish warmth. “Out enjoying the festivities, are we?”
She smiled softly. “Trying to, at least. There’s so much energy today—families gathering, people expressing gratitude. It’s… different.”
He closed his book, revealing the cover: a worn copy of “Don Quixote.” “Ah, Thanksgiving. A day where gluttony is celebrated as much as gratitude. Quite the human paradox.”
She chuckled. “Ever the cynic.”
He gestured to the space beside him. “Care to sit?”
She obliged, settling onto the bench. “I got a gift for Stella,” she said, holding up the box. “It’s a necklace—an acorn pendant. She loves collecting them in the park.”
Fernando nodded appreciatively. “A thoughtful choice. The acorn symbolizes potential and strength. Fitting for her.”
Auryn gazed at the bustling park. Families spread out on blankets, children playing tag, the distant sound of laughter filling the air. “I’ve been thinking,” she began hesitantly. “About what Thanksgiving means. The idea of giving thanks, of appreciating what we have.”
He looked at her thoughtfully. “And what have you concluded?”
“That perhaps I’ve taken much for granted,” she admitted. “This world, its people. Even… friends.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Are you including me in that category?”
She met his gaze. “Yes. You’ve taught me a great deal, Fernando. More than I ever expected when I first arrived.”
He smiled gently. “Well, it’s not every day one gets to mentor a fellow starbringer contemplating the fate of an entire planet.”
She sighed, her expression turning solemn. “The Council’s demands weigh heavily on me. But days like this make it harder to justify their orders.”
He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “It’s in these moments of doubt that we find our true selves. The Council sees the universe in absolutes—creation and destruction. But humanity exists in the in-between, in the gray areas.”
Auryn nodded slowly. “Stella invited me to her family’s Thanksgiving dinner. I’m not sure I should go.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not… one of them. I don’t belong.”
He chuckled softly. “Belonging isn’t about origin; it’s about connection. And you, my dear, have connected with her in a way that transcends mere acquaintance.”
She looked down at the box in her hands. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Besides,” he added with a twinkle in his eye, “it’s an excellent opportunity to experience a traditional Thanksgiving meal. Turkey, stuffing, the infamous green bean casserole.”
She laughed. “You make it sound so appealing.”
“Oh, it’s an assault on the senses, I assure you. But one worth experiencing.”
She glanced at him thoughtfully. “Why don’t you come with me?”
He seemed taken aback for a moment. “Me? Attend a family gathering of mortals I don’t know? Sounds dreadfully domestic.”
“Consider it a new experience,” she urged. “You said it yourself—belonging is about connection. And I think it would be… nice.”
He hesitated, then sighed dramatically. “Very well. But if they ask me to carve the turkey, I’m leaving.”
She grinned. “Deal.”
Responses (1)