Chapter 69 Caellum’s Daughter
Aurora:
The morning sun hadn’t climbed high yet, but the clearing was already full of little voices. Aria and Lior ran in uneven circles with their new friends.
Lior trailed after them with Soren, a quiet boy who seemed to know every shortcut between the trees. Every few seconds he tugged Lior’s sleeve to show him something: a bright pebble, a tiny crab shell, a leaf shaped like a heart.
I watched from the porch steps, a basket of folded laundry beside me, feeling something tender open in my chest.
The twins were… free here. Really free. There was no caution in their steps, no need to look over their shoulders. They laughed without checking if I was watching.
I had never expected that to hit so hard.
“You look like someone trying not to cry,” a voice said lightly.
I turned, and there she was.
Elara.
She looked mid-thirties, though there was something timeless in the way she carried herself. Dark hair braided over one shoulder, sleeves rolled to her elbows, a strip of linen tied around her waist. Her eyes were the bright, warm kind that saw everything and judged very little.
She sat beside me uninvited, but not unwelcome, and handed me a cup of something steaming.
“Taste,” she said. “My mother calls it wake-leaf tea. I call it barely tolerable. But it helps.”
I laughed despite myself. “Is that supposed to convince me?”
“No,” she said cheerfully. “But misery loves company.”
She took a sip of her own cup and winced. “See? Equal suffering.”
She felt familiar in a way I couldn’t place, like Maggie’s quick humor mixed with someone who lived half her life in the woods and came out wiser for it.
“Caelum said you might visit,” I said.
She made a face. “He says that about everyone. Mostly because he wants to know everything happening at all times.”
“That sounds right.”
We sat in companionable silence for a moment, watching the children.
“That one is mine,” she said, nodding toward Lina, who had climbed onto a rock and was trying to convince Aria to jump with her. “She has more confidence than sense.”
“Aria too,” I said. “And Lior tries to copy both of them even when he shouldn’t.”
“Elara!” Soren called from the shade. “Lina told them the mushrooms hum if we stand on one foot!”
Elara didn’t even blink. “Her father’s side,” she said calmly. “Trouble and optimism combined.”
I laughed again. It felt good, loosened something in me I didn’t notice had been tight.
“So you’re Caelum’s daughter?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said. Then lowered her voice conspiratorially. “But I’m much nicer than he is.”
“I believe you,” I said, smiling.
“At least someone does.”
She nudged me gently with her shoulder: friendly, warm, easy.
“So,” she said, folding her legs under her. “You’re the one who walked through the wards.”
I stiffened a little, unsure how to respond. “I… did.”
“You can breathe,” she said, reading my reaction instantly. “I didn’t mean it as a threat.”
I exhaled slowly. “It’s just… a lot.”
“Of course it is.” Her voice softened. “We’ve whispered about it for years, about whether the island would ever stir again. Whether the Luna line would wake.”
The air shifted around us.
I swallowed. “Was that really a thing? A… legend?”
“A rumor,” she corrected gently. “A hope. A warning. Depends who you ask.”
She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “But no one expected it to be a woman from outside. Or a mother of two.”
Her eyes flickered to the twins. “Especially not ones the wards seem to adore.”
My breath hitched.
She continued quietly, “Aurora… you walked through the wards without them bending. Only Lunas ever did.”
I stared at her. “But I don’t know anything. I’m still trying to understand what I even am.”
“That’s why I came.” She placed her hand over mine. “To tell you that you don’t have to understand everything yet. And you don’t have to prove anything to us.”
For a moment, I felt something sting behind my eyes.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
She nodded once, as if she’d expected I needed that more than I knew.
We watched the children again. Lina had convinced Aria to jump off the rock. They landed in a pile of leaves Soren must’ve arranged earlier. Lior jumped too late and fell sideways, giggling loudly.
“That boy,” Elara said fondly. “He copies everything. Especially when he shouldn’t.”
Our laughter blended with the wind.
The porch door creaked behind us. Eiric stepped out: tall, steady, the sort of man who moved in simple, deliberate lines. Broad shoulders, clipped dark beard, and the calm of someone who took security seriously.
“Elara,” he said, voice warm in a way he probably thought was stern. “You left me with your father again.”
“He survives,” she said without turning. “Mostly by complaining.”
He snorted and walked over to check the latch on the window as if he needed an excuse to be near her.
He nodded to me respectfully. “Aurora.”
“Eiric,” I said. “Your children are fearless.”
“His side,” Elara whispered loudly.
He didn’t deny it. His lips twitched, his version of a laugh.
A moment later, I noticed the resemblance; he had Rylan’s posture. The way he scanned the treeline, the steady way he planted his feet.
Older brother, I realized. Or younger. Hard to tell with wolves.
Eiric watched the children briefly. Lina shouted something triumphantly; Soren made a noise that might’ve been encouragement or warning.
Aria and Lior were in the middle of it, glowing with the uncomplicated joy of children who finally belonged somewhere.
My chest tightened.
Elara saw it instantly. “Good, isn’t it?”
“Better than good,” I said quietly. “I’ve never seen them like this.”
“Then you’re home,” she said simply.
I didn’t know how to answer that. The words sat warm and heavy in me.
Down in the clearing, Soren grabbed Lior’s hand and tugged him toward a new game. Aria shouted their names and ran after them, all wild curls and unstoppable energy. Lina darted ahead like an arrow, fearless as ever.
My breath caught, not in fear, but something deeper.
Something that felt like relief, like a wound knitting closed.
My children had friends.
Real ones.
Ones who ran toward them, not away.
Elara bumped my shoulder again. “See? The island always chooses.”
I watched Aria laugh so hard she fell over. I watched Lior pull Soren up when he tripped. I watched Lina declare herself the leader of whatever game they’d invented.
And something inside me finally unclenched.
A place.
A community.
A future.
Maybe even a home.