All Chapters of Bloodbound: The legacy of Serelai : Chapter 111 - Chapter 118

The first winter with two children was a different kind of adventure. The valley, wrapped in a thick blanket of snow, became their entire world, the little house was a warm, noisy bubble of life against the silent white.Lyra, at three years old, was a force of nature. Her songs were more complex now, little stories set to music. She sang about the squirrel storing nuts, about the snowflakes dancing, about her baby brother’s tiny toes. Her power was no longer just a reaction; it was a constant, joyful expression of her being.Kael, now several months old, was her perfect counterpoint. Where Lyra was a bright, leaping flame, Kael was the warm, steady hearth. He rarely fussed. He spent his days watching, his dark eyes missing nothing. When Lyra’s songs filled the house, he would hum along, a deep, grounding vibration that seemed to sink her melodies into the walls, making the very wood remember the music.Liora found her role shifting again. She was still a Scribe, but her journals were

The Remnant’s warning settled over the valley like a fine dust. It didn’t change their daily life, but it colored it. Liora watched her children with new eyes, seeing not just their power, but its cost and every laugh from Lyra was a relief. Every contented hum from Kael was a treasure. They were refilling, slowly, but the memory of their exhaustion was a fresh wound.The world outside, for a time, was quiet. No hungry silences tested the borders. No desperate pleas for healing came from Finn or the Order. It was as if the universe itself was holding its breath, waiting.Then, the whispers started.It wasn't the stones. It was the wind. At first, Liora thought it was her imagination. A faint, melodic humming that wove through the rustle of the leaves, it was beautiful, in a strange, hollow way. A perfect, crystalline harmony that had no source.She mentioned it to Ashiel one evening as they sat on the porch."I hear it too," he said, his brow furrowed. "It's coming from the east. It s

The forest was a blur of dark shapes and snapping twigs. Liora ran, her breath burning in her lungs, her arms screaming in protest. Lyra was a dead weight on one hip, her face buried in Liora's neck, her little body shaking with silent sobs. Kael, on the other hip, was too quiet, his head lolling against her shoulder. The backpack, stuffed with their frantic, hurried life, dug into her shoulders like claws.Elara ran beside her, her healer’s grace making her light on her feet even in panic. She kept a hand on Liora’s back, a steadying pressure. "Just a little further," she whispered, though she had no idea where 'further' was. "We just need to get to the river. It will hide our scent."The sounds from the house were gone now, swallowed by the thick trees and the thumping of their own hearts. That silence was worse. Was Ashiel okay? Was Ronan? The image of Ashiel catching that crossbow bolt was burned into her mind. It was a display of power that had saved them, but it had also confirm

The hidden hill was quiet. The only sounds were the wind sighing through the broken stones of the chapel and the distant, muffled noises of the town below. The grey dome of light Kael had created was like a bubble. Inside, they were safe. Outside, the world went on, unaware.But the peace inside the bubble was fragile, built on a terrible cost.Liora watched Kael as he slept. He didn't curl up in a little ball like a baby anymore. He slept on his back, one arm thrown over his head, his face looking more like a young boy's than a toddler's. In just two days, he had lost the soft, round cheeks of a one-year-old. His jawline was sharper, his limbs longer. He looked like he was three years old.It was a nightmare. Every time she looked at him, her heart broke a little more. This was her baby, and his childhood was being stolen, hour by hour, every time he used his power to save them.Ashiel came and sat beside her, handing her a piece of dried bread. "He's strong, Liora. Stronger than we