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I watch as Caelum rocks Alex with such care and tenderness that it brings tears to my eyes. He cradles him as if holding the most precious treasure in the world, moving gently while humming a lullaby that seems to fill the entire room with an almost supernatural calm. The sound of his voice is soft and melodious, carrying a sweetness I didn’t expect, making him all the more captivating.The atmosphere around us is warm and inviting. Alex’s room is decorated in soft shades of blue and gray, with light wood furniture and a cozy armchair beside the crib. Small details, like the star-shaped mobile hanging above the crib and the shelves filled with children’s books, make the space a haven of peace.My heart swells as I watch them together. Caelum has been more than I ever imagined. Throughout my pregnancy, he was my safe harbor, my rock amidst the waves of uncertainty and challenges surrounding me. Now, with Alex in his arms, he proves once again that he’s everything my son and I need.At
I wake to someone calling my name, their voice heavy with urgency and warm hands shaking my shoulder insistently. It’s Aria. The room is steeped in the dim light of dawn, the timid moonlight slipping through the partially open curtains and illuminating her tense, pain-stricken face.“Caelum… the baby’s coming!” Her voice trembles, breathless, as if every word is a struggle. “My water broke.”In an instant, my mind snaps fully awake, sleep abandoned as though it had never existed. I leap out of bed, my heart pounding as if I were about to charge into battle. My first instinct is to help her sit in the nearby chair, my hands steadying her arms with care, though my entire being is on high alert, focused solely on her and the baby’s safety.“How far apart are the contractions?” I ask, striving to keep my voice calm, though the edge of worry is impossible to mask.Aria, still in her nightgown, can’t answer immediately. Her body arches involuntarily, and a raw, visceral cry escapes her lips
“What do you want for your birthday?” I ask the twins as soon as they get home from school.Their eyes, identical in shape but so different in personality, light up in unison at the question. They exchange a conspiratorial glance, and before even giving me a proper answer, they flash matching grins and shout together: “A DRAGON!”The excitement in their voices is so convincing that, for a moment, I almost believe it’s a real possibility. Aria and I can’t hold back our laughter. Her laugh is light and infectious, like a warm breeze sweeping through the room. She’s sitting in her favorite rocking chair, the soft fabric of her sweatshirt stretching gently over the prominent curve of her seven-month-pregnant belly. The baby stirs occasionally, as if responding to the controlled chaos that always seems to surround our family.The glow she once had has been slowly returning, day by day. The nightmares have lessened; I can now count on one hand the nights I’ve woken to her screams. She’s ba
The office is small, with white walls that reflect the cold, impersonal light of the fluorescent bulbs. Aria is lying on an exam table covered by a paper sheet, which crinkles softly under her weight. Her stomach is exposed, the brown skin contrasting with the sterile environment around her. Her expression is stoic, but her eyes carry a deep exhaustion.The blood tests confirm the pregnancy quickly. Six weeks. The news hits me like an electric shock to my system. I feel a whirlwind of emotions—excitement, surprise, maybe even a bit of fear—all mixed together and hard to process. I try to contain the happiness, aware that the baby isn’t mine, but I can't help it. A smile involuntarily forms on my face.Aria, on the other hand, remains expressionless. Her eyes are fixed on some distant point, as if she’s trapped in her own thoughts. She doesn’t react, doesn’t smile, or show any trace of joy. It cuts me, but I know her time is different from mine.“How about we see how our little bun is
The dining room is illuminated by candles delicately placed on the long oak table. Elowen, with her golden curls shimmering under the light, lifts her curious eyes from her plate to look at me. Her sweet voice breaks the silence.“Isn’t Mommy going to have dinner with us?” Elowen asks, curious.Lyra and I exchange quick, knowing, worried glances above the table. I try to find the right answer, something that will ease her concern without fully exposing the weight of the situation.“No, my princess. She’s tired, maybe tomorrow…” I say gently, leaning slightly forward, so my voice reaches Elowen like a comforting whisper.Elowen seems to accept the answer with a small nod, returning her focus to her plate. For her and Thorne, the war and the loss of Alexander seem like distant events, like a bad dream that has already begun to fade from memory. Their understanding of death is still superficial, almost innocent. They felt Alexander’s absence, of course, but the depth of mourning, the we
I stand frozen, unable to tear my gaze away from the scene of agony before me. Aria is kneeling over Alexander’s lifeless body, her arms clutching him as if her sheer will could pull him back to life. Her sobs echo in the air, piercing my soul like gunshots. She weeps uncontrollably, each cry laced with a pain so profound it seems to reverberate across the ravaged battlefield around us.The chaos that once ruled the battlefield begins to fade. Malicious creatures dissolve into shadows, vanishing into the air with piercing howls, as though the universe itself is dragging them back into the void from which they came. Malakar has been banished to the forbidden realm, and the darkness he brought with him begins to yield to a faint gray light.Despite the victorious cries erupting around me, celebrating the end of torment, my focus remains fixed on the scene before me. I hear nothing but Aria’s sobs and the muffled thudding of my own heartbeat, as if the entire world has been suspended in