A glitter of hope.

As Rhys was struggling with his thoughts and uneasiness that crept in his mind, he heard some noise, a muffled sound, followed with a whimper of pain. 

He drew nearer and around the corner, he met the sight that made him pause.

There, wedged awkwardly between two narrow iron bars, was Amara. Her face was flushed with effort as she tried to maneuver her way through the narrow passage. Her arms were pressed tightly against her sides, and her cloak was tangled around her legs, making her struggle even more comical.

"Amara?" Rhys said, his voice a mix of surprise and disbelief.

Amara froze, her head snapping up to meet his gaze. Her eyes widened, a flush of embarrassment spreading across her cheeks. "Rhys," she stammered, her voice breathless. "I... I didn't think you'd be here."

Rhys raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "Clearly," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "What are you doing?"

Amara avoided his gaze, her fingers tugging at the edges of her cloak as she tried to free herself. "I wanted to… observe the beast," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I thought maybe I could learn something."

Rhys shook his head, his smirk growing into a soft chuckle. "Brave," he said, "but incredibly foolish." He stepped forward, grabbing hold of the iron bars and pulling them apart just enough for her to slip through.

Amara stumbled forward, nearly losing her balance, but Rhys caught her arm, steadying her. "You're welcome," he said dryly.

She straightened, brushing off her cloak and finally meeting his gaze. "Thank you," she muttered, her tone defensive. "I didn't need help. I was managing just fine."

Rhys let out a low laugh, shaking his head. "Sure you were," he said, leaning back against the wall. "Now, care to explain why you're sneaking around the dungeon in the middle of the night? "

Amara hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the pendant around her neck. The necklace.. "I... I just wanted to see it," she said softly. "I wanted to understand it. There's something about it, something I can't explain."

Rhys studied her for a moment, his expression softening. "Curiosity," he said. "It's a dangerous thing."

Amara looked up at him, her eyes bright despite the dim light. "It's also necessary," she said. "If we don't ask questions, if we don't seek answers, how will we ever understand the world around us?"

Rhys tilted his head, considering her words. "Fair point," he admitted. "But this isn't the kind of curiosity that leads to answers. This leads to trouble."

Amara's gaze flickered to the chamber where the beast was held. A shiver ran down her spine, but she forced herself to stand tall.

"I have to know," she said quietly.

Rhys sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You're stubborn," he said. "I'll give you that."

For a moment, the two of them stood in silence, the weight of their shared experiences hanging between them. Then Rhys gestured toward the chamber.

"Go ahead," he said. "But don't get too close. And don't make me regret letting you stay."

Amara nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Thank you," she said, her voice sincere.

Rhys watched as she stepped into the chamber, her movements careful and deliberate. He couldn't help but admire her bravery, even if he thought it was misplaced.

As she approached the beast, Rhys leaned back against the wall, his eyes never leaving her. For the first time in a long time, he felt a flicker of amusement. She amused him with her extraordinary bravado.

The dim light of the dungeon cast long, flickering shadows on the rough stone walls. The beast lay chained in the center of its cell, its fiery eyes dimmer than usual, as though exhaustion had sapped its strength. Despite its massive form and the aura of danger that clung to it, there was a strange calmness in its demeanor. It watched Amara as she approached, its gaze heavy with something that struck her as almost... human.

Amara's steps faltered as she neared the bars, her heart pounding in her chest. She clutched the pendant around her neck, feeling its cool metal press against her palm. There was something about the way the beast looked at her, an unspoken sorrow, a weariness that she could sense from it.

The beast shifted slightly, the chains around its limbs clinking softly. Its fiery eyes flickered, and for a brief moment, Amara thought she saw something else in their depths—fear. But it wasn't fear of her or of the people who had captured it. It was deeper, more primal, as though it feared something else, something far greater.

She took a shaky breath, her fingers tightening around the pendant. Suddenly, a faint sound echoed in her mind. It wasn't coming from the dungeon, nor was it something she could physically hear. It was like a whisper, a soft, distant cry that sent chills down her spine.

She suddenly closed her eyes , and heard it again.

A baby.

A baby's cry.

Amara froze, her body stiffening as the sound grew clearer. It wasn't vivid, more like a fragmented vision, but it was enough to leave her breathless. She couldn't tell where it was coming from, yet it resonated within her as though it were tied to her soul.

"Amara," Rhys called from behind her, his voice tinged with confusion and concern. He had been leaning casually against the wall, but her sudden stillness had caught his attention.

She didn't respond. Her eyes were fixed on the beast's abdomen now, a strange sensation twisting in her chest. Her lips parted, and before she could stop herself, she whispered, "She's pregnant."

Rhys straightened, his brow furrowing. "She?" he repeated, his voice laced with disbelief. He stepped closer, his boots scuffing against the stone floor. "What are you talking about, Amara?"

Amara blinked, as though coming out of a trance. She turned to Rhys, her face pale and her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and wonder. "The beast," she said, her voice barely audible. "It's a she. And she's... she's carrying a child."

Rhys stared at her, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then he laughed, though it was more out of nervousness than amusement. "Amara, are you listening to yourself? That thing is a beast, not some villager's cow. How could it possibly—"

But before he could finish, the beast let out a low, guttural sound. It wasn't a roar or a growl, but something softer, almost mournful. Its fiery eyes shifted to Amara, and for the first time, Rhys noticed how calm it seemed. It wasn't thrashing or snarling. It was just... stilled

Amara took a step back, her breathing uneven. "I... I don't know how I know," she said, her voice trembling. "But I felt it. I heard it. She's pregnant, Rhys."

Rhys ran a hand through his hair, his eyes darting between Amara and the beast. This was absurd. It had to be. But something about the look on Amara's face, the conviction in her voice, made him hesitate.

"Listen," he said, his tone more serious now. "I don't know what's going on in that head of yours, but you shouldn't be here. If anyone finds out you're snooping around, it'll be trouble, for both of us."

Amara nodded slowly, though her gaze lingered on the beast. The pendant around her neck shimmered faintly, catching the beast's attention. Its fiery eyes narrowed slightly, and it shifted back, letting out a faint whimper that sent another chill down Amara's spine.

Rhys noticed the interaction and stepped forward, placing a firm hand on Amara's shoulder. "That's enough," he said. "We're leaving."

"But—"

"No buts," he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Whatever you think you've figured out, it doesn't matter right now. You're not safe here."

Reluctantly, Amara allowed him to guide her away from the cell. She cast one last glance over her shoulder, her heart heavy with a mixture of fear and curiosity. The beast's eyes met hers once more, and for a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of something, hope perhaps?. She didn't know.