Weeks passed like storm winds, fast, loud, and full of change. The once-untouched fields surrounding Ashar's rebuilt sanctuary now bore the marks of battles fought in preparation. Craters scorched the earth. Ancient stone monoliths Mae had conjured from fractured memory stood like training dummies, each of them broken, shattered, or melted down from her refining strength. Mae stood in the center of the stone circle now, chest rising steadily, shoulders squared. Her arms glowed faintly, not with heat, but power. The kind that no longer frightened her. Not like before.
"She's not just strong," Sethis said from the outer edge, "she's, divine." Lucien hummed, crossing his arms. "And still not even at her full potential." The sphere hovered silently nearby, its shifting light steady for the first time in days. A soft hum escaped it, its version of satisfaction. Riven, leaning against a stone column, nodded toward it. "She's close. That damn thing says she's almost there. One final push and?"
"And she becomes what she was meant to be," Ashar finished quietly, his tone unreadable, but his eyes fixed on Mae. "Creation and destruction in one." Mae exhaled slowly. "What if I'm not ready to choose between the two?"
"You won't have to," Riven said, stepping closer. "Not if we keep holding the line with you." She turned to face him, and Ashar, both of them close, her bonds to each of them stronger than they had ever been. They had fought together. Bled together. Fallen into exhaustion under the stars after late-night training sessions. She had laughed with them, cried with them. Slept between them. And still, something was building. "I can feel it," she whispered. "The shift. Something's coming." The sphere pulsed. Confirmed.
Ashar stepped beside her now, his presence grounding. "Then we have little time left."
"What's left for me to learn?" she asked, eyes glowing faintly. "What's the final piece?"
Lucien approached the sphere and touched its surface. It pulsed again. To choose your origin. Mae's brows furrowed. "What does that mean?" The sphere spun faster, images flickering across its surface, of galaxies, of spirals, of echoes in time. Then it showed her, multiple versions. Mae the destroyer. Mae the rebuilder. Mae the goddess of starlight. Mae the weapon of wrath. "You were born when the fracture opened," Ashar said. "But you were never given a root. A foundation. You exist in everything and nothing. And now... you must claim something."
Riven's voice was softer now, "Who you are, has to become what you'll be." Mae looked out toward the twilight horizon, the sky now repaired but distant storms flashing beyond it. She nodded. "Then show me how." Choosing her origin had not been what Mae expected. No test. No battle. No riddle or ancient spirit. Just a mirror, an endless reflection of the versions she could be. And in that void, one small, warm thread of light that felt like home. She followed it. She chose life. Not destruction. Not creation alone. She chose continuance.
The sphere pulsed once. The trial was over. Now, night had returned, and with it, the quiet they hadn't known in weeks. Inside the castle, laughter echoed softly from the great hall. Lucien had taken over the kitchen again, insisting that warriors needed real meals, not just adrenaline and high-octane cosmic power. The scent of something warm and savory filled the corridors. Even Ashar didn't argue. Mae didn't make it to dinner. She had smiled at them all as they tried to fuss and hover, especially Riven and Ashar, who kept finding excuses to linger in her doorway. "I'm fine," she had whispered, gently pushing their hands away. "Go eat. I'm just, tired. Not hungry."
"You sure?" Riven had asked, eyes darting to the little curve of her stomach, just now visible when her shirt shifted. Mae nodded. "Yes. It's not a bad tired. Just full. Full of everything. Of you both. Of them." Ashar's eyes lingered on her. Protective. Fierce. Unspoken worry swirling in their depths. "You've been hovering too long," she added with a teasing glare, her voice quiet but firm. "Go. Let me sleep before I start glowing again just to get space." That finally worked. They left with promises to check in soon. Always too soon.
Now, the room was dim. The fire crackled in the hearth. A warm breeze from the open balcony stirred the light curtains. Mae lay curled on her side, hands resting over the soft curve of her belly. Her baby. Babies. She wasn't sure how she felt, not fully. But she felt peace. Deep, humming peace. Her eyes fluttered shut, and in the stillness of her quiet room, she could still hear them laughing faintly in the distance, Lucien teasing, Sethis groaning, Riven and Ashar silent but content.
For once, nothing hurt. For once, Mae didn't feel like a weapon waiting to go off. Just a woman, powerful and human, growing something new inside her. Something precious. Something that might change everything again. But not tonight. Tonight, she would sleep. The great hall felt oddly warmer tonight, not just from the firelight flickering along the stone walls, but from the quiet hum of peace that had settled over the castle.