Chapter 3: A Fragile Dawn

By the time the men stepped outside, the downpour of rain had ceased. Minutes before, the forest was alive with the roar of water and storm, but now it stood in a heavy silence, broken only by the occasional dripping of rainwater from leaves above.

The three men strode together towards the horses, boots squelching against the sodden earth. The steeds stood near the path from which they had entered this secluded area.

Alten’s men each held one of the children close to their chests, wrapped securely in blankets. Their breaths fogged in the cold air as they mounted their horses, carrying the children with the utmost care.

They rode slowly towards the manor, careful not to jolt or harm the twins, the sound of hooves muffled against the softened earth of Endlost Forest. The air was cool and heavy with the scent of wet leaves, and in the distance, the dark outline of the Kazantria manor began to take shape.

Just as they reached the forest’s edge, the horizon began to glow, and the first rays of the morning sunshine rose over the land, and its warmth touched the babe's faces. The timing made it as if the sun itself had welcomed the twins home. Alten glanced up, exhaling slowly. By the gods' grace, he thought

By the time they reached the manor gates, dawn had fully broken. The guards strode past the towering iron gates of the Kazantria estate. Gravel crunched beneath their hooves as they entered the courtyard. Ahead of them stood the manor, its white walls gleaming faintly in the soft morning light, while its dark roof remained wet from the night’s storm. Lush grass framed the edges of the compound, but the main approach was a wide stone path leading directly to the grand double doors, and large grey stones surrounded the house.

Alten dismounted from his horse first, his boots landing on the stone tiles. He ran his fingers through his shoulder-length crimson hair, feeling the dampness on his fingertips from the earlier rainfall. Though the sight of this estate he had seen countless times before, today it felt different. His chest tightened at the thought of what might have been. If they had failed…

He shook the thought away and strode forward, lifting a gloved hand.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

One side of the great double doors creaked open, the hinges squeaking. A familiar face peered out. Lilibeth, the family maid, her eyes widened the instant she saw the group; her long, bright white hair drooped down her shoulder as she leaned over.

Alten cleared his throat. “Ah, Lilibeth, we've returned… and the children are here with us,” said Alten, releasing some tension with a breath. Her hands rose to her mouth. “Oh, thank the gods! Quickly, come in, come in!” She pulled the door wide, ushering them inside.

“Are they here? Oh Gods, say my babies are okay!” Lucina, the twins’ mother, cried as she burst from a nearby room into the hallway, her light golden hair tumbling around her face. Solan followed close behind, disbelief hardening his expression.

“T-They are alive, but I fret they won't wake,” Alten replied with a weary sigh.

“Let's all sit and gather ourselves,” Lilibeth pronounced, as she guided them into the lounge room.

Alten lowered himself into a sofa across from the lord and lady of the house, a small tea table in between them. The men brought the babes to their parents, placing each of them gently in their arms. Lilibeth stood nearby attentively.

Clearing his throat, Alten began. “As we rode through Endlost, a faint red glow flickered through the trees. Following it, we came upon a hut hidden in the thickets, the light we had followed poured from the windows and lit up the area, and moments before we entered, a ray of white light reaching up to the sky came from the hut. And inside…” He hesitated, grinding his teeth. “Inside were your children, laid upon a table. And with them—Veldra Deadwood, as we feared.”

Lucina gasped, clutching her daughter closer to her chest. Solan’s expression darkened, but he stayed silent, urging Alten to continue.

“I struck the crone down with my blade, and I confirmed she had departed. When I joined my men around the table, we discovered that there was a burnt-out spell circle around the children, so clearly magic had been cast.

Lucina’s voice quivered. “But why? Why would she target children? Nonetheless ours, surely she knew what would've happened to her.”

Alten shook his head slowly. “The Crone was a devilish fiend, but not a fool, my lady. If the tales are true, she’s lurked in these woods for centuries. She must have kept the knowledge of the ancient arts, and whatever was invoked on the children, it’s beyond anything I can decipher.”

He glanced at the sleeping twins in their parents’ arms. Their small chests rose and fell faintly with breath. “They live. Their blood flows. Yet they have slept for hours, untouched by our calls or by the light of this morning. I cannot say what has befell them. All we can hope for is that they wake soon.”

Lucina’s face twisted to a look of pure dread as she looked down at her daughter. Solan finally spoke, his voice with a tone of concern and seriousness, “Was it truly wise to cut the wretch down before getting any answers out of her, Alten?”

“I feared that more harm could have befell us or the children, and I didn't want to take the risk that she'd cast something we couldn't counter, so I had to make a choice right in that instant, My lord.”

“I see,” Solan murmured. His hand brushed through his son’s hair, lowering his voice. “Then we must hope… and pray that the gods show them grace.”

“We really appreciate your help, old friend,” said Solan, rising to shake Alten's gloved hand. “Yes, my Lord, anytime, I only wish we could have reached them sooner, but by the will of the gods, they will recover. For they had barely started living this life.”

Lucina lowered her head, pressing her lips gently against her daughter’s forehead, her tears wetting the child’s soft hair. The room fell into silence, and only the faint crackle of the fireplace could be heard at that moment.

Alten gave Solan a firm nod and glanced towards Lilibeth. She had quietly taken her place beside her lady, a hand resting gently on Lucina’s shoulder.

“I’ll see to it that guards are stationed outside the manor,” said Alten with reassurance in his voice. “No further harm will come to anyone here. Rest easy, my lord… my lady.” He proclaimed while giving a slight bow.

Thank you, old friend. You've done more than enough tonight. Make sure to get some well-deserved rest,” Solan replied.

Alten gave a final nod before turning toward the doors,

With the guards now dismissed, Solan stepped over towards his wife and placed an arm around her trembling shoulders as tears flowed down her cheeks. Together, they climbed the staircase with their children in their arms. Upstairs, in the master chamber, the babes were laid down at the center of the bed, lying safely between their parents.

Lucina lifted her daughter and tried to breastfeed, hoping that she would drink a sliver of milk, but to no avail; the infant gave no reaction. Solan placed his palm gently upon the boy’s tiny chest, and for a moment, he closed his eyes, counting each faint beat of that fragile heart as if anchoring himself to it.

The two lay side by side in silence, exhaustion from the sleepless night finally setting in. Though at this point the sun was shining faintly through the curtains at the window, signaling that the day was now underway, the lord and lady of the were finally shutting their eyes, joining the twins in slumber, clinging to the hope that when they woke, the twins would too.