Chapter 37 Between Life and Death
I was floating.
No pain. Nobody. Just consciousness—drifting without form, in a place outside of space, in a void.
Was this death? It felt peaceful, so terribly quiet it almost hurt. But something was wrong.
"Mother."
The child's voice. Clear. Strong. Not from outside but from within.
"Where am I?" I asked the darkness around me, hoping for an answer.
"Between. Between death and life. From now to the end of time."
The voice surrounded me. "I am holding you here. Keeping you from falling."
"Why?"
"Because I'm not ready to let you go.
Because your father needs you. Because the realm needs you." The presence grew stronger. I could almost see it. A shape. Human. Small. Perfect.
"Because I love you." To save me, you are taking your own life. I sense it.
You used too much power."
"I used what was necessary. Nothing more."
"You are eight weeks old. You should not even be conscious yet."
"I have been conscious since conception. Aware. Thinking. Planning." The child's presence wrapped around me. Warm. Protective. "I knew what I was the moment I existed. What I would become.
"What I was supposed to do." The question burned inside me: What are you supposed to do?
"Save you. Save father. Save the realm from itself." The shape became clearer. A child. Maybe five years old in appearance. Red eyes.
Dark hair, both beautiful and frightening. "The prophecy made no mention of either redemption or destruction.
It was about choice: every day, every moment—choose mercy or cruelty, love or power, fight to be better each time.
"Voss said we would become tyrants."
"He saw one possible future. Not the only one. Not the certain one." The child smiled. My smile. Kael's smile. Combined. "You are already choosing differently. Fighting for people who hate you. Trying to build something better. That is not tyranny. That is hope."
"We are losing. Aldric stabbed me. Half our army is dead."
"Yes. Because I was too young. Too weak. Too uncontrolled." The child's form solidified. "But I can fix this. I can save you. Save everyone."
"How?"
"By being born. Now. Today. Eight weeks early."
Horror flooded through me. "You are too young. It will kill you. Kill me. Kill us both."
"Maybe. Maybe not. But if I stay unborn, you definitely die. Your wound is mortal. Father cannot heal it. The bond cannot heal it. Only my magic can. But for that, I must live in the world—not the void. I need your permission. I cannot force this. You have to choose."
"That is not a choice. That is asking me to risk your life."
"You've risked your life for me every day. Let me return the favor." Red eyes met mine. "Please, mother. Trust me."
I thought of Kael. Of the bond. Of everyone fighting for us. Dying for us.
I thought of this child who shielded us from inception. Who cherished us before words. Who willed itself kinder than the storm inside.
"Yes," I said. "I trust you."
"Then wake up. And do not be afraid of what comes next."
The void shattered.
I gasped. Back in my body. Pain exploding through me. Aldric's blade is still on my side.
Kael was over me. Covered in blood. Crying. Actually crying. "Sera. Please. Please do not leave me."
"Not leaving." My hand found his face. "Something is happening.
The baby—"
Pain. Agonizing. Different from the wound. This was internal. Primal. Birth.
"No," Kael breathed. "It is too early. It is—"
"It chose this. To save me." I gripped his hand. "Help me. Please."
He lifted me. Started carrying me. Away from the battle. Toward the palace. Shouting for healers.
The world blurred. Pain. Movement. Voices.
Then I was in bed. Healers surrounding me. Pulling Aldric's blade out. Blood everywhere.
"The baby is coming!" One healer shouted. "It is coming now!"
"It is too early!" Another argued. "She will not survive this!"
The first healer turned to Kael. "Your Majesty, choose. We try to save her or the baby. Not both. No resources."
"Both." His voice was absolute. "You save both or you die trying."
They worked. Fast. Desperate. Magic and medicine combined.
I felt the child moving. Descending. Fighting to be born.
I felt my body tearing, breaking beyond repair. I was dying, and I knew it.
But the child's magic poured into me. Healing what it could. Strengthening what remained.
"Push!" A healer commanded.
I pushed. Screamed. Felt something give.
Then crying. A baby is crying.
"It is a girl," the healer whispered. Awed. Terrified. "Your Majesty. It is a girl."
They cleaned her. Wrapped her. Brought her to me.
Red eyes. My eyes. Kael's eyes. Dark hair. Perfect features. She looked at me with awareness. Recognition. Love.
"Hello, mother," she said. Out loud. Actually spoke. "I told you I would save you."
The healers backed away. Shocked. Babies did not speak. Did not open their eyes. Did not look at their parents with ancient understanding.
But ours did.
"What is her name?" Kael asked.
His hand was shaking as he stroked her face. "Nyx," I said.
The name appears everywhere and nowhere. "Her name is Nyx."
"Nyx Draeven." Kael smiled. Broken. Exhausted. Happy. "Our daughter."
"Our miracle," I corrected.
Nyx's hand found mine. Her magic pulsed. Healing me. Finishing what the healers started. The wound in my side closed. The pain faded.
"Sleep, mother," Nyx said. Her voice was strange. Young and old at once. "I will protect you now. Both of you."
I wanted to argue. Wanted to stay awake. But exhaustion dragged me down.
I slept. Deeply. Dreamlessly.