Chapter 82: Beneath the Mountain

Far from the cities and fires and whispered news, Elena and Niegal healed in the quiet shadow of the hidden sanctum, beneath layers of rock and ancient protection wards.

The stone floors were cool. The air smelled of crushed herbs and sacred oils. Magic stirred gently through the chambers — soft, living, undisturbed.

Here, time moved differently.

The Behike and her circle of healers worked without rest, tending to the wounds of both body and spirit.

Elena struggled to reclaim her body.

After months of unconscious stillness, even walking was a feat. Her limbs ached. Her mana stuttered. Her spells sparked wild, untamed.

Each time her magic returned, the feathered scars on her arms shimmered faintly-

the softest purple gleam like moonlight caught in pearl.

Proof of what she'd survived. Of what she had become.

Pregnancy changed everything, too.

The Behike explained it all — how the womb pressed against the bladder, why her hunger came in waves, how she would need to sleep more than ever. And through it all, Elena endured.

She was learning to be alive again.

To live not just for herself… but for the life she carried.

The Behike also taught her what it meant to be the "vessel of Guabancex". They would sit in deep meditations together. She taught her how to divinate from sea shells and bone, what herbs are medicinal or harmful. How to handle a ceremonial blade. Slowly, Elena came to embrace the title Doña Guabancex, though she still felt like herself more than ever.

Not divine. Just grateful to be alive.

Niegal, too, was still mending.

His body betrayed him often; an endless battle of hidden shrapnel in his ribcage, old wounds that refused to close cleanly. More than once, he collapsed mid-step from pain no one could immediately see.

But still, he fought through it. For her. For them.

He joined the Behike and Elena learning more about Guabancex and other cemis. He learned about healing rituals only known to the elders of Coabey Cemi. It made him feel better about the strange dreams he had, when he could sleep.

Niegal kept seeing a lion and a raven locked in a fight in front of a building he didn't recognize. The lion bit off the raven's head and ate it whole while a tempest raged around them.

It unnerved him to no end. He decided to not speak of it, though, Elena came first. Always.

And in the rare quiet moments, those rare stretches of breath between treatments, lessons, and exhaustion, they loved.

They lay together under the warm sanctum light, whispering into the night.

"Do you think they'll have my eyes?"

"I hope they don't get my stubbornness."

"What about names?"

"Something strong. But beautiful."

Elena rested a hand on her swelling belly.

Niegal kissed the scars on her hands.

They were still healing.

But they were healing together.