Chapter 139: Lullaby - Leah
Castle nights don't have a Side A moon.
Just Side B's single moon, white and cold, hanging above the concrete skyline. Through the castle windows, I can see lights from the distant city, like an abandoned sea of stars.
Kael is sleeping in the next room. His chest wound has healed, but his body's still recovering. Kiran is guarding his door, sword across his knees, like a black statue.
Avi is in the study researching that black stone. Xiao Qi is in the basement taking apart White Box equipment. The dragon is sprawled in the courtyard, snoring like thunder.
And me, I'm sitting at the kitchen table, watching over a pot of oatmeal.
Tenth try.
I'm following the steps Kael taught me: cold water in the pot, spread out the oatmeal, low heat, slow cook, stir. Add milk. Add honey. Add—
I forgot what comes next.
The pot starts bubbling. Brown liquid churning, giving off a burnt smell.
"Burnt again," I mutter to myself.
But I don't turn off the heat. I just sit there, hand on my belly. The twins are moving inside. Not kicking—something gentler, like rolling over—squirming.
They're growing.
Two weeks since the door was forged. Time moves faster on Side B than Side A, or rather, time flows differently between the two worlds. My belly is starting to show. A slight bulge. Like I'm hiding a small watermelon.
Through the Bloodbond, Kael can feel them moving. He smiles in his sleep. Because the twins move in dreams too, responding to his consciousness.
The door still rotates in the sky. Dark silver. Invisible, but there.
Since we fought off the Forge, the door has gotten stronger. Kael and I, through complete binding, changed the door's password to—love. Two-way love. Something the Forge can't understand.
But it's still trying.
Every night, I feel this itch from the void. Like someone gently tapping on the inside of the door. The Forge is looking for weak spots. Testing passwords.
No luck so far.
But who can promise forever?
I turn off the heat. Pour the burnt oatmeal into the trash.
Then I walk to the terrace.
The night wind is cold. I pull my coat tighter. Wings folded inside my body, hidden. Side B's air doesn't feed vampires like Side A does, but it won't kill us either.
In the courtyard, Night Walkers are lying around the dragon. Twelve of them. Evolved. Their scales shine gold under the moonlight.
One lifts its head. The one with the broken wing—got hurt protecting the door before. Its right wing hangs limp, but its eyes are still bright.
It walks over to the terrace. Something in its mouth.
It sets the thing down, backs away, looks at me.
I walk down.
What it left is a stone. Black, smooth surface, with dark red patterns flowing inside.
Shadow Stone.
Same as the one Ophelia left behind. But bigger.
Where did the Night Walkers find this?
I pick up the stone. It warms in my palm. Not hot—warm, like a heart being warmed.
Through it, I feel some kind of... connection.
Not the Forge. Not the Moon-Eater. Something older, calmer—
The First Mother.
Her consciousness fragment is in the stone. Not alive—a recorded memory. Like a message carved into stone.
I press the stone to my forehead.
Information floods my mind.
Not images. Sound.
"Child of the Silver Moon," the voice says, ancient, tired, but gentle, "If you're hearing this, the door has been forged. You've already made your choice."
"I'm not praising you. I'm warning you."
"The Forge isn't the master of the void. It's the void's... janitor. Like how the Moon-Eater is the network's janitor. The Forge cleans up—mistakes."
"And you, Leah Vane, are a mistake."
"A Forsaken awakening Primogenitor blood. Waning Moon joining with Silver Moon. A Gatekeeper abandoning duty, choosing love. These are all mistakes in the universe's algorithm."
"The Forge wants to fix mistakes. Not out of evil. Out of programming."
"But programs can be rewritten."
"The way to rewrite isn't in the door. Not in blood. Not in light."
"In song."
The information ends.
The stone crumbles in my palm. Turns to dust, scattered by the wind.
I stand there frozen.
Song?
What song?
"Leah?"
Kael's voice comes from the terrace above. I look up. He's standing at the railing in a robe, face pale but eyes bright.
"You're here," he says.
"I'm here."
"The night wind is cold. Come inside."
I walk up to the terrace. He reaches out his hand. I take it.
His hand is warmer than before. After complete binding, his body temperature is changing, moving toward human. Or rather, toward some... in-between state.
"I just..." I hesitate, then tell him, "I got a message from the First Mother. Through a Shadow Stone."
"What did she say?"
"She said... the way to rewrite the Forge's program is in song."
Kael frowns.
"Song?"
"I don't know what she means."
We're quiet for a while. The night wind blows across the terrace, lifting the edge of his robe.
Then Kael speaks.
"I heard one once," he says.
"What?"
"A song," he looks toward the distant city, "When I was three. My father was still alive. My mother was still there. That winter, the northern fortress was snowed in, no fuel, no food. My mother sang a song by the fireplace. Not a vampire song—a human lullaby. She said when she was little, her mother sang it to her."
"And then?"
"Then my father fell asleep to the song. I fell asleep too. That night, we didn't freeze to death. Because the song put us into some kind of... deep sleep. Our body's metabolism dropped to the minimum. Like hibernation."
He turns to me.
"Maybe," he says, "what the First Mother was talking about isn't an ordinary song. But some kind of... ancient melody. That can affect life's basic rhythm. That can rewrite the program's... code."
I look at him.
Then I make a decision.
"Teach me," I say.
"What?"
"That song," I say, "The lullaby. The one your mother sang."
Kael looks stunned.
"Why?"
"Because," I smile, "I want to sing it to our children. Adrian and Ophelia. Before they're born, let them learn this song. Let this song... become their password."
Kael looks at me.
For a long time.
Then he opens his mouth.
His voice is soft. A little off-key. After all, he's not a professional singer.
But the melody is beautiful.
Simple. Repetitive. Like the rhythm of a heartbeat.
"Sleep, sleep, my little baby..."
"The moon is shining, stars are keeping you company..."
"Wind stops, rain rests, the world is quiet..."
"Mommy is here, daddy is here, no one is leaving..."
I join in.
My voice isn't professional either. But when we sing together, being on pitch doesn't matter.
The twins move in my belly.
Not kicking. Something gentler, like responding—
Trembling.
They're listening.
Remembering.
Carving this melody into their not-yet-formed minds.
By the third time we finish, a warm wave comes through the Bloodbond. Kael's consciousness. He's laughing. And crying too.
"That's enough," he says.
"What's enough?"
"This song," he says, "It'll become a key. More powerful than any blood, any light. Because—"
He holds me.
"—it's ours. It belongs only to us."
The night wind stops.
The moon in Side B's sky, for the first time, doesn't seem so cold.
And in the castle basement, when Xiao Qi takes apart the White Box equipment, she finds a hidden recording.
The recording has Dr. Chen's voice, the final message he left before the Gravekeeper was destroyed:
"The Forge's program is based on one assumption: that love is weakness. Is a mistake. Is code that needs correcting."
"But what if love is..."
"What if love isn't a mistake, but... an answer?"
The recording cuts off.
Xiao Qi sits in the basement, hand gripping the player, not moving for a long time.
Then she smiles.
"So that's it," she says.
She runs upstairs. Runs to the terrace. She wants to tell Leah and Kael about this discovery.
But when she pushes open the terrace door, she sees them singing. Under the moonlight. At the top of the castle.
She stops.
Doesn't interrupt.
Just stands there, listening.
Tears run down her face.
She thinks of her home on Side B. Her human apartment. Her mother sang a similar song too. When she was little.
That song, she always thought she'd forgotten.
But now she remembers.
Every line.