Under the red moon, amidst candles and stormlight, Aurelia gave birth in silence and pain. No midwife touched her. Only her magic and Lucien's steady hands.
The child came forth with eyes like storms one silver, one gold.
A boy.
But when he cried, the palace trembled.
Spells flickered. Sigils cracked. Magic bent in his presence.
Aurelia held him to her chest and whispered, "You are Elian. And you are mine." Lucien stared at the boy in awe and fear.
"He's... not like us."
"No," Aurelia whispered. "He's like what comes after."