Elián

The room grows quiet after Zephan leaves.

The mark on my wrist has settled now, the serpent and moonflowers wrapped around my skin like a living bracelet.

I lift my hand, turning it slowly in the light. The mark hums faintly beneath my skin.

Warm and steady.

I feel Zephan’s magic. Flow through me as I run my fingers along the serpent’s body, tracing the delicate curve of its coils.

"It’s beautiful," I whisper to myself as I enjoy the peacefulness of the moment, and just then, the baby moves.

It’s a sudden jolt that pushes hard against the inside of my stomach, and I inhale sharply in response.

"That’s new." I breathe through the pain as I look down at my stomach.

Another kick follows immediately.

It’s so strong, my hand flies up to my stomach instinctively.

"Hey," I call in alarm, and the baby shifts again under my palm, restless and impatient.

This is not the... once in a while sleepy rolling I’ve grown used to.

This feels deliberate.

...Demanding.

"What’s wrong, honey?" I whisper, and another jolt answers me.

Just when I’m about to start panicking, a flash bursts across my mind.

Clear, sudden, and unmistakable.

Koda.

I freeze.

The image is so vivid it steals the breath from my lungs.

He is standing in the courtyard at Gravemaw’s palace, with arms folded across his chest, and his blonde hair falling over his shoulders exactly the way it does when he’s lost in thought.

Then the image vanishes.

My stomach jerks again... Another kick.

"...That was you?" I whisper in awe as I cradle my stomach, and I’m answered with another flash.

It’s Koda again.

This time, he’s closer.

His hand is resting on my stomach lovingly, and breath escapes me as his gaze locks onto mine.

My throat tightens as this vision vanishes as well.

Then realisation dawns on me.

"You’re... showing him to me," I note, and another restless push follows immediately.

The message is unmistakable.

Koda, Koda... Koda.

My daughter’s magic pulses beneath my palm again, sending another quick flash across my mind.

This time, it’s Koda laughing quietly at something I said while we were at Gravemaw.

The memory disappears just as quickly, and my hand tightens slightly against my stomach as understanding settles.

"You want your father..." I whisper, and the baby kicks hard.

Not angry this time, just stubborn... Insistent.

My chest aches suddenly, because the truth settles into me slowly... and painfully.

Of course, she wants him. She’s grown two months without her father anywhere near her.

I look down at my stomach as heaviness presses against my heart.

"...I kept you apart too long," I whisper, and another push rolls through my stomach.

I sit there for a moment, staring down at the life beneath my hand.

The lantern lights crackle peacefully, but my thoughts feel heavier now.

"You shouldn’t have to do this," I murmur in guilt, and a small kick answers me.

Of course she did. I was getting too comfortable with the presence of Zephan and Zethar that I almost forgot that she needed her dad. She had to remind me.

My eyes close briefly, suddenly ashamed.

"I’m sorry," I whisper as my hand gently rubs over the place where she just kicked.

"You shouldn’t have to fight this hard for me to remember that you need your father." I apologise, and this time she presses outward again, almost like she’s leaning toward my palm.

And another flash flickers through my mind. It’s Koda again. But this time the Vision is different. Not a memory... maybe a premonition?

It’s Koda, but he’s kneeling beside me, with his hand resting against my stomach while he whispers quietly to her.

The vision fades, and I open my eyes slowly.

"...I know," I whisper.

Another gentle push follows.

"I know you need him."

She has every right to throw a fit.

He’s her father, and I— I’ve been so caught up in everything else.

Nagaria, the comfort... My own need for stability. My own need for connection...

That I didn’t stop to think about what this would mean for her.

My fingers brush lightly across the serpent mark on my wrist, and I remember when Zephan noted that she might not like it if he marks me.

"You felt this." I think out loud, and another kick answers me.

Of course she did.

And from her perspective— Her mother just allowed someone else’s magic to claim space in my body... while the one she truly belongs to is so far away.

My chest tightens.

"That wasn’t fair to you," I whisper, and I’m met with silence.

"I’m not replacing him," I tell her gently as my hand presses more firmly against the curve of my stomach.

"I could never replace Koda," I add, and she shifts again.

Not agitated this time. Just listening.

"You have five fathers," I continue quietly.

"And every one of them will love you." I try to teach her, and my voice lowers slightly as I keep talking.

"But Koda..." I speak, and she gives another kick. It feels almost excited.

Isn’t it too early for her to be able to move this much?? But I guess beastmen babies are different, and... well, my baby is a different type. She seems more powerful than her... age should allow

"Yes," I sigh with a soft chuckle.

"Koda will love you the most," I confess as I lean back against the pillows slowly.

"You shouldn’t have had to wait this long." I apologise, and she presses outward again.

Encouraging, but impatient.

A small laugh escapes me despite the heaviness in my chest.

"You’re not even born yet, and you already know how to make your point." I laugh, and yet another push answers me.

I sit there for a long moment, staring at my stomach.

...Thinking.

Because the truth is painfully simple.

I’ve been unfair.

To Koda, and to her...

I asked Zephan to mark me tonight because I needed comfort. Because I needed grounding. Because I needed to feel steady again.

But in the middle of all that...

I forgot someone else might need something too.

My daughter.

My hand slides gently across my stomach again.

"I’ll fix it," I whisper, and another soft kick answers me.

Satisfaction.

Gravemaw should have healed to a significant point by now. It won’t be unfair of me to call Koda here. Neither our daughter nor I need to keep managing. We need him here.

It won’t be selfish of me to send for him... right?

I can... write to him. Explain to him that I’m pregnant and I need him. We... need him.

I quietly swing my legs over the edge of the bed.

"Alright," I mutter as I make up my mind.

The baby settles slightly as I stand. I still feel her waiting for my next move, so I know I must not do anything to piss the little princess off.

I know she’s paying attention, but she’s calmer now.

Because she knows I’ve understood. She can sense what I’m about to do.

I walk carefully across the room toward the desk near the window and sit carefully.

The lantern there glows over the papers and ink, and I take a deep breath.

I pick up the quill, and for a moment, I just stare at the empty page.

What do I write? How do I explain to Koda that I kept him away from our baby for two whole months... Will he understand?

I let out a breath, then I begin writing.

My dearest Koda,

The ink spreads slowly across the page, and I pause briefly before continuing.

I owe you an apology.

The baby shifts quietly beneath my ribs, and I feel my heart start thudding.

There’s a secret I have kept from you, and I made sure no one would tell you because I wanted you to focus on your duty to Gravemaw. However, I believe it is time for you to know the truth.

And I hope you can understand my reasons and forgive me.

I’m pregnant, Koda with our baby. I’m two months gone now. And she’s a very healthy baby. She hasn’t even been born yet, and I can sense she’s a lot like you.

My hand pauses again. Then I continue.

I didn’t tell you earlier because I knew that if I did, you would leave Gravemaw for us, and I... I couldn’t do that. I know your people needed you. Your mother needed you. So, I kept you and our baby apart, and have been surviving pregnancy thanks to Zephan’s temporary bond.

However, she has made it very clear tonight that she misses you.

A gentle kick answers that line, and I smile faintly.

I dip the quill again and stare at the words I’ve written so far.

I miss you too. Come to Nagari.

As soon as you can.

My hand pauses for a moment.

Then I write the final line.

Your daughter and I are waiting for you.

I set the quill down slowly, and behind my ribs, I feel my baby settle.

She’s content now.

Because she knows.

She knows that her father is coming.