Chapter 92: Watching

The fire crackled gently.

Aurora hummed as she walked the perimeter of the camp, her long cloak brushing against the lantern-lit path. She carried a staff for balance, her other hand free. Beside her, Phineus walked with quiet intent, his eyes scanning the skyline.

He was always vigilant. But tonight? He looked almost… relaxed.

After their tearful reunion, the four of them had stayed up late, voices low, hearts open. They'd shared stories, plans, and promises under stars that seemed to listen in.

Aurora had marveled at Elena's pearlescent scars, at their achiote sigils on their chests.

Only when Elena began to nod off mid-sentence, head against Niegal's shoulder, did the gathering end.

Aurora had not wanted to leave her. Not after placing her hand on Elena's stomach and feeling that faint ripple; new life, soft and stirring beneath her palm.

It had brought her to tears.

Not because of sadness, but because of how fiercely she realized they needed this child. They all did.

A symbol. A future. A hope.

Niegal had been the one to insist they rest. He guided his wife gently toward their tent, his hand never leaving hers.

Aurora watched them go, leaning against a post near the fire. She smiled, small lines forming at the corners of her eyes.

They look so much older now, she mused to herself, stifling a chuckle. Wiser. Weathered. But still whole.

Phineus stood close, arms crossed loosely. He stared at the fire, thoughtful. When he spoke, his voice was low.

"They're going to be parents."

Aurora glanced at him. "They already are."

Phineus nodded. He wasn't sure what to call the baby yet. A cousin, sure, but it didn't feel distant like that. This child would be something more.

Something different.

Still, a question burned in him.

Thinking of Niegal and Elena, and the lengths they had gone to protect each other, to stay side by side through flame and blood…

Phineus couldn't make sense of Alejandro.

Why return now?

Why years of silence, of absence?

Niegal had stood unshaken. He had been a mountain for the storm that was Elena.

But Alejandro? He left before Phineus was even born.

The younger Matteo exhaled, his face shadowed as his gaze swept toward the cliffs.

From a distance, Alejandro watched him.

He stood on the edge of a low rooftop, cloak snapping in the wind, lips curled around a soft, soundless whistle. Smoke gold and flickering blue curled from his mouth like breath from a pipe.

Overhead, something moved.

A silver hawk- sleek, powerful, and impossibly fast, descended from the clouds. She landed on his forearm with sharp grace.

"Azura," Alejandro greeted warmly, nuzzling her beak.

His oldest companion. His most loyal friend.

She had come the moment he whistled, the spell woven into her bones meant she could hear him from hundreds of miles away. Even after all this time… she had returned.

He fed her a strip of dried meat, murmuring in a tongue no longer spoken by most men. Then he unwrapped the thin note tied to her talon.

As he read, his expression darkened.

The ink on the paper was coded, but he knew the symbols well.

A map. A movement. A shift of power.

He looked up one last time, watching Phineus and Aurora from afar.

His grin returned.

Not the careless kind. Something… sharper. Hungrier.

"The Mother of Storms," he mused, eyes glinting. "And her child that could change everything."

He turned, steps silent, cloak rippling as he walked toward the commander's tent.

He had information.

And this might be his only chance at redemption.

They don't know the whole truth yet, he reminded himself, jaw set.

But they will.