Chapter 136: After Waking - Kael
When I wake up, I smell oatmeal.
Not a hallucination. Real. The burnt smell, mixed with the sweetness of milk, and the lingering scorch from the iron pot.
I open my eyes.
The ceiling is stone, but not the rough rock walls of the underground castle. It's polished granite, carved with the de Noct family crest. I'm lying in a bedroom, the bed is human-style, with a mattress and pillow. Sunlight streams through the window—Side B's sunlight, a single sun, white.
I try to sit up.
My muscles protest, but there's no sharp pain. The wound on my back has closed, the skin smooth, just a faint pink mark. My lung is intact, breathing easy. The broken bones have healed, though still a bit stiff.
I lift the blanket. The leg wound has healed too. The self-inflicted cut from the Kin-Slaying Blade left a thin scar, like a centipede crawling across my left leg.
My wings—
Both are there. Dark red, a bit smaller than before, but complete. The feathers are newly grown, soft, like a baby bird's down.
I get up.
There's a set of clean clothes in the room. Human-style—black pants, gray sweater, boots. I put them on and push open the door.
The hallway leads to the kitchen.
Leah is in the kitchen. Her back to me, standing at the stove with a wooden spoon in her hand, stirring something in the pot. Her silver-white wings are folded against her back, and she's wearing a human apron over them, printed with a cartoon duck.
In the pot is oatmeal. Brown. A little burnt.
"Ninth try?" I ask.
She turns around.
Her face is rounder than I remember. Not fat, just fuller, healthier-looking. The light in her belly has completely internalized, invisible now, but I can feel it. Through the Bloodbond, the twins' heartbeats are like two steady engines, humming softly in the back of my mind.
"Tenth," she corrects, the corner of her mouth turning up. "And this time it's not burnt. At least... not completely burnt."
I walk over. Hug her from behind. Rest my chin on her shoulder.
Her body is warm. Real. Alive.
"How long has it been since the door was forged?" I ask.
"Three days," she says. "Xiao Qi is in the next room. Her spine needs surgery. Side B doctors can't do it, so she's DIYing it with White Box equipment she left behind."
"The Night Walkers?"
"Guarding the castle perimeter. Twelve of them. Evolved. They're patrolling, keeping the Sweepers from coming back."
"The Sweepers?"
"They retreated," Leah turns down the heat. "White Box's main base sank, the Gravekeeper died, they lost their funding. They won't come for now."
I'm quiet for a moment.
"What about the door?"
Leah's hand pauses.
"It's there," she says. "A dark silver door in the sky. Invisible during the day, glowing at night. Within a kilometer, our power is stronger. Beyond that range—"
She turns around to face me. Her hand covers my chest.
"Beyond that range, we get weaker. Like a kite with a broken string."
I look into her eyes. Silver-gray, clear.
"Do you regret it?" I ask.
She shakes her head.
"Do you?" she asks back.
I don't answer right away.
I walk to the kitchen window. Outside is Side B's castle courtyard. The weeds have been cleared, revealing the stone path underneath. In the distance, Night Walkers move around, their golden vertical pupils like amber in the sunlight.
Further away is Side B's city. A concrete jungle, human civilization. From the castle, you can see the top of that glass tower, its red beacon now dark.
We're trapped here. One kilometer. About a fifteen-minute walk.
Three thousand years, I traveled every corner of Side A. The Royal City, the wilderness, the northern fortress, the Spiral Spire. Now my world has shrunk to a castle and its courtyard.
"I don't regret it," I say.
Leah looks at me.
"Really?"
"Really." I turn to her. "Because the flying lessons I was teaching you aren't finished yet."
Her eyes light up.
"Now?"
"Now."
We walk to the castle terrace. It's on the second floor, overlooking the courtyard, about fifty square meters. Wind blows from the north, carrying Side B's distinctive smell—exhaust mixed with earth.
Leah spreads her wings. Silver-white, complete, no trace of the tears. The energy from forging the door healed her.
I stand behind her. Both hands on her waist.
"Remember?" I say. "The first time I taught you, you screamed in the night sky."
"I remember," she laughs. "You called me stupid."
"No name-calling this time," I say. "This time I'm flying with you."
I spread my wings. Dark red, newly grown, a bit clumsy. We take off together.
Not very high. The terrace is only five meters up. We hover there, wings beating, air currents lifting fallen leaves from the ground.
"Feel the wind," I say.
"I am."
"Not with your wings. With your skin. With your face. With what's in your belly—"
I pause.
She finishes: "Let them feel it?"
"Yes," I say. "They're flying too. In the womb. With your heartbeat. Let them feel the wind."
Leah closes her eyes.
Her wings adjust their angle. From stiff flapping to smooth gliding. She catches the air current, like catching an invisible ribbon, her body steadying in the air.
I let go.
She doesn't fall.
She's flying on her own.
Silver-white wings shimmer in Side B's sunlight. Not Side A's moonlight, but just as beautiful. Just as free.
At least within this one kilometer, she's free.
I hover beside her. Watching her. Really watching her.
Her hair whips in the wind. A smile plays at the corner of her mouth. Her hand protects her belly. The twins are moving in there—I can feel it, through the Bloodbond, they're kicking excitedly.
"Kael," Leah suddenly opens her eyes.
"Yeah?"
"I want to name them," she says.
I freeze.
"Now?"
"Now," she says. "A boy and a girl. Twins."
I look at her belly.
"If it's a boy," I say, "let's call him Adrian."
Leah goes quiet.
Then she nods.
"And the girl?"
I think for a moment.
"Ophelia," I say.
Leah's eyes turn red. But she smiles.
"Good," she says. "Adrian and Ophelia. The new generation of House de Noct."
We slowly descend. Onto the terrace's stone floor. Wings folding.
Leah walks toward me. Presses her forehead against my chest. I wrap my arms around her waist.
"We're going to be here for a long time," she says.
"A long time."
"Will you get bored?"
"No."
"Really?"
"Really." I lower my head and kiss her forehead. "Because here, I have you."
Sunlight falls on us. Side B's sunlight. Not harsh, but warm.
The door operates silently in the sky. Dark silver. Standing guard.
And in places we don't know—
In the ruins of Side A's Spiral Spire, a mass of black threads writhes. The Gravekeeper's ashes scatter in the wind, but one metal core particle burrows into the soil.
That particle flickers.
Like a heartbeat.