25. Whispers of Truth (part three)

"Are there many types of magical beings? Not just witches and djinns?" Lucas wondered, his mind racing with possibilities."There are many," Kyle continued, his voice taking on a serious tone. "Djinns, like other magical beings, are tied to ancient grudges or artifacts found in power-rich sites like volcanoes or lakes."

Lucas toyed with the pendant around his neck, his fingers tracing the intricate design as if seeking answers from the cool metal. His gaze drifted out the window, where the first rays of sunlight pushed back the night, his mind swirling with the revelations Kyle had just shared. "How are those artifacts? Do you have some?" Lucas asked, his voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of awe.

"My sword," Kyle explained, casually resting his hand on his hip, a glint of pride flickering in his eyes as if recalling the many battles the weapon had seen.

Lucas recalled the flaming sword slashing at the monster about to kill him. He shuddered, remembering the immense power that wielded it, thinking about how many battles Kyle had fought until then.

"And what about the necklace you gave me?" Lucas questioned, his eyes narrowing slightly as he sought the truth.

Kyle chuckled, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He leaned in slightly, his eyes sparkling with amusement and affection as he teased, "Very clever," he replied. "But that's yours now. These objects might include stones, water, or plants with magical properties. They can also use those artifacts to meddle with humans and replenish their strength by feeding on positive or negative human emotions."

Lucas raised his eyebrows. "Like leeches or something?"

Kyle shrugged. "Almost. Humans have some magic that is unleashed during emotional outbursts. Though it is very little, there are about 8 billion humans nowadays, so it is enough for low-level magic users."

"Still, manipulating humans to survive fits more in a grey area. Not that anybody dies with that, but we contribute to keeping society in a stalemate situation." Kyle thought.

"Like what types of users?" Lucas asked, steadying himself to understand what being a child of Lilith truly meant.

Kyle started to count on his fingers. "Well, there are vampires; they sell items infused with blood magic. Chocolate truffles mixed with blood can heal or make you feel a surge of passion."

"Banshees love working in environmental departments," Kyle continued, glancing at the ceiling.

"The 'we are all going to die' guys?" Lucas joked.

To his surprise, Kyle nodded. "Exactly. Some imps feed on your frustration in bureaucracies."

"The girl in Cibeles...." Lucas mumbled.

"Hey, you are taking this very well. They are indeed terrifying foes. There are many more, but the ones mentioned are the ones that prefer the city. Some work with heaven to boost positive emotions. And others like to work with Hell."

"Is not something stupid to do?" Lucas wondered.

Kyle's expression darkened momentarily, a flicker of frustration crossing his features as he added, "Humans are prone to anger, especially in groups. It is more efficient, but the current CEO of Hell is focusing too much on it."

Lucas hesitated momentarily, wondering if he should bring up a question that had been in his mind for some time. "So there are high and low levels of magic in different beings?" Lucas pondered and signaled to himself, "Like me? Are there many like me?"

"Witches? Oh yeah, there are many, with different affinities to different types of magic." Kyle smiled playfully. "But there is only one Lucas."

Lucas blushed at the intensity of Kyle's gaze; he countered fast. "Is Lilian a witch?"

Kyle chuckled. "Wow, your intuition today has peaked. Yes, she is like you."

"I immediately sensed a strong kinship with her," Lucas murmured. "What does she do?"

"Potions, it is in the coffee and food. Mostly healing." Kyle offered, now coming close to the tattered couch.

"My food had potions?" Lucas gasped. "Don't tell me... You gave me a love potion! You!"

"Ehh?" Kyle was taken aback. He started to panic. "Of course not. Well, those options exist, but they never work; what they do is create an obsession, an unhealthy attachment, and it always ends badly due to the price. A spell like that demands absolute devotion."

Lucas raised an eyebrow. "Now I am worried. Kyle, what was in my food?"

Kyle gulped. "Potions... against heartbreak."

Lucas opened his mouth, but no words came. Kyle kept his gaze and then lowered. He came close, almost kneeling before Lucas, carefully avoiding the scattered ceramic pieces of broken cups. "I am sorry; I just couldn't let you suffer like that for a man who didn't deserve you."

Kyle tried to touch Lucas's hand but decided against it. "I know this is a lot to take in—learning about your lineage, food, and magic."

Lucas hesitated, his hand stilling on the pendant as a distant look clouded his eyes. "Not really."

Lucas finally admitted, the words heavy with memories. He glanced at Kyle, searching for understanding before continuing. In the room's silence, he could hear his heartbeat.

Lucas stepped closer to Kyle, his voice soft but steady as he began, "You know, I've been keeping a couple of secrets from you—from everyone, really."

Kyle's interest was piqued, and his eyes locked on Lucas as he waited for him to continue. But Lucas didn't meet his gaze. Instead, he focused on the morning light filtering through the window as if gathering the courage to speak.

"The thing is," Lucas began again, "I've known about witches for a long time."

"Grandma Isabella was a witch," Lucas said, his voice softening with nostalgia. He glanced down, a small smile playing on his lips as he remembered the scent of herbs and her gentle voice.

Kyle's eyes widened in surprise, his posture straightening as he absorbed Lucas's words. "So you knew?" he asked, his voice laced with astonishment and admiration.

Lucas shrugged. "We don't call them witches, though; it is just "curanderas," women who know much about plants, ghosts, and spirits. I've never seen ghosts, though."

Kyle scratched his head, still trying to understand how that detail had slipped under his radar. "Why didn't you mention it?"

Lucas shrugged. "It didn't seem like something a PhD student in the neurological side of organizational behavior might be interested in or believe."

Kyle chuckled and came closer, his eyes locked on Lucas, "Right."

Lucas continued, "Until a certain point, I also forgot about it. My grandma got sick when I was barely a teen, and I couldn't go out with her anymore to get plants or visit those places of power."

"Grandma Isabella," Lucas said softly, as though conjuring her memory, "she always smelled of sage and rosemary, her hands weathered but gentle. She used to take me to the markets, whispering old prayers over bundles of dried herbs."

"That explains why you were so happy in Fatima's store." Kyle's smile started to widen.

Lucas nodded, acknowledging Kyle's amusement with his little declaration: "In the last years of her life, she couldn't walk. So I used to pick herbs and prepare teas for troubled ladies."

"Troubled ladies?" Kyle furrowed his eyebrows.

Lucas shrugged it off. "Women with injuries, those who wanted to get pregnant, heartbreaks. The usual."

"Does it have anything to do with your decision to study medicine?" Kyle came closer, dancing through the upturned furniture as if trying to pierce Lucas's soul.

Lucas didn't notice Kyle approaching his mind in deep thought. "Perhaps. I just tried to keep her memory alive."

Lucas sighed, the weight of old memories pressing down on him. His shoulders slumped slightly as he recalled, "My dad didn't like me being with Grandma..." The bitterness in his voice was palpable, and he stared at the floor as if seeing his past play out before him.

Kyle's brow furrowed with concern as he moved closer, his hand instinctively reaching out to Lucas. "Lucas?" he asked, his voice gentle yet probing, as if trying to pull him back from the depths of his painful memories.

Lucas leaned his head against the back of the couch. "Something happened to grandma. I was told she had an injured back and I should not bother her anymore. That's when Dad opposed the fact that I had learned to cook. Only now do I realize their true significance."

"Dad didn't want me to follow her footsteps." Lucas closed his eyes, recalling a fight between his parents and the foggy memory of a night in which he was supposedly sleeping.

"This family doesn't need more witchcraft bullshit things. No. My son is not going to get into trouble for that. He will have a normal life, a family, and a regular job," said Lucas's dad.

"Why?" Lucas muttered. "Why keep me apart from something part of my heritage? It just feels wrong. The person they tried to mold me into is not who I truly am."

Lucas felt conflicted. Even if it was out of love and worry about being accepted for who he truly was, Lucas felt his parents had no right to bully him into becoming a person so disconnected from his true self. That probably affected many of his decisions; his career choice was the most glaring, and so was the type of partner he chose: Jacob was just glam and glitter reflecting the light others had. Kyle was a raw fire burning bright.

Kyle moved closer, his presence warm and steady. He reached out, his hand enveloping Lucas in a comforting grip, the touch firm yet tender. "I'm sorry, Lucas," he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity.

Lucas didn't respond immediately but basked in the warmth provided by Kyle's touch. Far away from his family's influence, after going through so many trials and tribulations, he had started to accept himself, the nice and the ugly bits, the magic and the mundane. The raw desire to melt into Kyle's warmth and tell him everything...

Lucas was finally at peace with himself. There were no paths Lucas wouldn't cross for that man.

Lucas continued. "She didn't teach me much—just about ghosts and spirits. But she taught me how to make food special and use it to help someone feel better and more energized."

Lucas nodded and then sighed. "Listen, I wasn't lying when I said I was close to grandma; it is just that teachings about having premonitions when you met a handsome stranger in the metro sound baffling."

Kyle raised an eyebrow. "Premonitions?"

Lucas nodded, his breath hitching as he recalled the strange, almost mystical feelings he'd experienced. "I felt..." he started, his voice trembling slightly as he searched for the right words. "I felt like you were a very old soul... and there was a connection."

Lucas's eyes met Kyle's, seeking a connection beyond words.

Kyle's breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding as he processed Lucas's confession. He was utterly speechless for a moment, his eyes wide with disbelief. Then, slowly, his expression transformed into pure joy, his eyes bright with emotion. "I felt it too..."

Kyle whispered, his voice choked with the intensity of his feelings. "Oh my god, I should have told you how much you mean to me sooner."

Kyle's eyes widened slightly, his mouth parting as realization dawned. Lucas knew there was something else he had to come clean about. He wondered what Kyle might think about him. "Would Kyle feel scared by me afterward?"

Lucas's heart pounded in his chest. What if Kyle saw him differently after this? What if this admission broke the fragile trust they had built? Despite the fear, Lucas concluded he had to tell Kyle the truth. Lucas finally turned to face him, his gaze intense and searching. "Do you remember when I first gave you those empanadas?"

Kyle nodded slowly, his mind racing.

"The truth is," Lucas hesitated, his throat tightening with guilt, "they were also... infused with something. I didn't mean to keep it from you, but—" he stopped, searching Kyle's face for judgment, only to find patience there. "I was using food to help boost your mood—not like a love potion, but something to help heal you."

Kyle frowned, concern knitting his brows. "Lucas, what did you use in the food?"

Kyle's body instinctively reacted to the remainder of the sudden surge of energy and happiness that invaded him when he ate those empanadas. His mind then concluded that Lucas and he were meant to be partners. Kyle's heart felt like sinking for an instant. "Was that provoked by magic? "

Memories of the little moments of happiness together—the morning coffee, the happy banter, the walks together—all those precious seconds flooded Kyle's emotions. "Was he influenced by Lucas' magic?" He shook it off. "Nah, impossible. You can't fake that."

"What did you use?" Kyle started to say, holding his breath.

A gentle breeze blew through the room. Without answering, Lucas stepped closer, gently cupping Kyle's face in his hands. He leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to Kyle's lips. A warmth surge flooded Kyle like a fresh breeze on a cold spring morning. When Lucas pulled back, his eyes were filled with a deep sincerity. "Love. I poured all my affection for you into every bite. Kyle, I've been falling in love with you for a long time, even if it was hard for me to admit."

Kyle blinked, absorbing the words. At first, his thoughts scattered, grappling with what Lucas was confessing. Had Lucas... been affecting him all along? But then, like a sunrise breaking over the horizon, the meaning became clear: it wasn't magic—it was love, raw and genuine. Kyle's thoughts whirled, but one truth cut through the chaos. This wasn't magic—it was something deeper, something pure. It had always been love.

Lucas had been falling for him all this time. He couldn't hold back any longer. He leaned in and captured Lucas's lips in a more passionate kiss, pouring all his unspoken feelings into it. Lucas trembled slightly in his arms.

When they finally broke apart, Kyle whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "I'm so lucky... so blessed to have you love me back."

"You know," Kyle said, a playful glint briefly flashing in his eyes, "I might have fallen for you because of the empanadas, not just your good looks." He smiled, then his face softened as he leaned in closer. "But... truth is, I felt the connection too—like you were always meant to be in my life."

Without another word, Kyle pulled Lucas into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around him as if afraid to let go.

"I've wanted to do this for so long..." Kyle murmured into Lucas's ear, his voice thick with emotion. The warmth of their shared connection radiated between them, solidifying their bond. Either by destiny or by their own free will, they started a journey together on a fateful night in Puerta del Sol. They still had a long road ahead, but nothing—neither Heaven nor Hell—would stand between them this time.