Chapter 80: Stormbearer
Elena's eyes fluttered open.
Light.
Soft candlelight danced across a pale stone ceiling, reflecting gently off polished marble and the familiar scent of sage and flowers.
New to her, though, were sigils of triple or singular spirals and forked lightning painted into the walls.
A face hovered above her.
The Behike.
Smiling. Gentle.
"Good morning, sweetness," the older woman cooed, brushing a few strands of tangled hair away from Elena's brow.
Her fingers were warm.
Alive.
Elena blinked slowly.
Her hand twitched.
She realized she was clutching the pendant from her dreams, her spiral scars glinting like pearl inlayed into her skin.
It hurt to move.
But she could move.
And that alone filled her with something close to awe.
She looked up at the Behike and whispered, voice rough and small:
"First it was the darkness, but then the strangest…"
Her gaze drifted-
Niegal.
He was seated beside her cot, head resting against his arm. Fast asleep, hair undone and falling freely past his shoulders.
Bandages peeked out from beneath his loose linen shirt, and his face looked thinner, tired, but still unmistakably his.
Elena smiled.
And then she tried to sit up.
Pain flared in her abdomen.
She gasped.
Looking down, her eyes widened in disbelief.
Her stomach was swollen. Rounded. Her body felt heavier, fuller. Something fluttered inside her, light and soft-
A kick.
From within.
The pendant flashed brighter.
A shaking hand rose to touch the curve of her belly, dropping what was in her hand in her shock.
"W-what…?"
"Congratulations, Doña Guabancex," she said warmly, eyes twinkling with tears. "You survived. And… you are with child. Truly a Mother of Storms."
Elena's lips parted, but no words came. Just trembles. Just fragments of questions unspoken.
Her eyes filled with confusion and fear.
To be this far along…
How much time had passed?
And who the hell is Doña Guabancex?
Her voice cracked as she whispered:
"Behike… how long have I been asleep? Why call me that?"
A beat of silence.
Then:
"Nearly four months," the Behike said softly. "And you're just over four months along."
Elena froze.
Her breath hitched.
Four months.
Four entire months.
Entire seasons… gone.
The Behike sighed, picking up the dropped pendant and dusting it off.
"The people… they call you Doña Guabancex." Her eyes raised to meet hers, glinting in the candle light. "Coabey Cemi believes you are the vessel for the cemi Guabancex. Mother of Storms."
Niegal stirred beside her.
His silver eyes slowly blinked open, and the moment he saw her awake, he was on his feet. His hand brushed the stray curls from her face, reverent, shaking. His bandaged side flared in pain, but he didn't care.
He was looking at her like a man who had seen a ghost return to life.
And in a way… he had.
Elena's voice cracked as tears slipped free.
"But… and this now…?"
She struggled to make sense of the time, of the life moving inside her, of everything.
Niegal laughed, a broken, grateful sound, as he kissed her forehead.
"My tempest, you're the bravest woman I know" he whispered into her skin.
She wept.
Silently.
Not from grief. Not from fear.
From everything.
From being alive.
From what had been lost.
From what had somehow remained.
Her head fell against his shoulder.
Too tired to speak.
Too full to think.
Too stunned to respond.
The Behike and Niegal exchanged a quiet nod.
It was time.
Time to reveal the truth to the world.
Time for the people to know:
The Stormbringer lives.
And she was no longer alone.
Elena, now sleeping again, raised one hand instinctively to her belly.
Protective.
Peaceful.
Still healing.
But present.
And alive.