Elowen's eyes were rimmed with red, tears swirling but not yet falling.

At Elowen's questioning, Sophia and Dorian also drew closer, looking at Lysander seated in his wheelchair.

Neither of them spoke; they just quietly observed Lysander. As they did, their eyes misted over with a thin veil of tears.

To them, their dad had always been a towering figure, authoritative and commanding, someone they looked up to with respect.

The dad they remembered was like a majestic mountain, towering and imposing, an object of their admiration and reverence.

But the Lysander before them now, seated in a wheelchair, seemed so much smaller, almost at their height, no longer the unreachable, awe-inspiring figure he once was.

They thought back to when Zephyr had sent them to military school, their dad's fate hanging in the balance, fighting for his life in a hospital. And now, three years later, they were reunited with him in a wheelchair.

The children's hearts ached, tears involuntarily welling up.

Lysander's paralysis for some time. He wasn't as shocked as his

a wheelchair for the first time had been

too well how his

saw the tears in his children's eyes, understanding their pain. This sympathy, however, didn't comfort him; it felt more like

to life

a semblance of peace inside.

frustration of

didn't care about the stares from strangers, but the looks from his family, every glance, every

she spoke with a gentle smile, "Your dad is doing great, don't worry. Although he can't walk for

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