Chapter 60- Sanctuary

Rhiannan stood tall at the edge of the quarantine hall, flanked by Reyna and two members of the royal council. Her eyes softened at the sight of the eight serpent refugees gathered near the hearth, their clothes clean, their bellies full, and their faces still bearing the lines of trauma. The child clung to the elderly woman, who sat with her peeling tail wrapped tightly around her legs.

"Tell me," Rhiannan said gently, stepping forward, her voice low but commanding. "Why did you flee?"

The eldest woman, her voice trembling like dry leaves in the wind, spoke for them all. "He… he lost his mind, Your Majesty. Khezur...the Coilborn, he saw your message, your kingdom, your babies... and he erupted. He slaughtered his guards. His cooks. His priestesses. He ripped a man's head off. We ran, barefoot, bleeding, through sand and ash. He was speaking madness, about taking you, about breeding gods. He's not a king. He's a monster."

The child Kirren, buried his face in the old woman's shoulder, sobbing softly. Another woman stepped forward, scars across her chest and back. "We didn't know where else to go. We heard of Aurealis. Of the Queen who saved the world. We begged Sasha to let us in."

Rhiannan's throat tightened. She glanced at Sasha's nearest orb, which blinked with sympathetic light. "Set them up at whichever village they choose," she said. "Homes. Jobs. A chance to heal."

Her gaze swept over them all, firm now. "But I'm trusting you. Don't make me regret it."

They all dropped to their knees, tears staining the polished stone floor. The elder clutched the child and bowed low. "We pledge our loyalty to you and your bloodline. Forever."

Sasha's voice rang out, melodic and warm. "They have chosen Moonhollow. Registration is complete. Homes are being activated, jobs assigned in healing and trade. Guards will escort them now."

Rhiannan nodded as soldiers entered to guide the refugees. She turned on her heel and left with Reyna, both women walking with purpose toward the gates. Outside, new citizens had arrived, dusty and wide eyed from long travels. Rhiannan offered them her brightest smile and Reyna raised her voice.

"Welcome to Aurealis! Sasha will begin your registration shortly. Please follow your escort to your assigned village or settlement!"

Cheers erupted. The line moved smoothly. Love and magic pulsed in the air.

Meanwhile, Elisha strode through the gates of Moonhollow's mini castle, his golden cloak billowing behind him. The village bustled with life, and he paused to admire the flowers climbing the enchanted trellises along every walkway. The nobles and citizens had made it their own.

Lady Isira Thornveil met him at the door with a respectful nod. "King Consort Vaelorian. We've been expecting you."

He smiled warmly. "Just here to check in. I want to hear from the nobles directly. Any concerns?"

Inside, the nobles gathered in the war room, sipping enchanted tea and going over scrolls. They rose as Elisha entered.

Noble Arwyn, a weather mage, spoke first. "Housing is going well. We've had thirty seven new families settle in without issue."

Noble Brinna added, "Shops are thriving. No theft. No conflict. We've already begun offering goods to other villages."

Elisha nodded in approval. "And the people?"

Lady Isira smiled. "Happy. Grateful. Loyal. You and Rhiannan have built something real here. Something they'll die to protect."

Elisha looked around, his heart swelling. "Good. Keep it that way. And if anything shifts, report it immediately. We will not let shadows settle here."

The nobles bowed. The kingdom of Aurealis thrived, and its guardians would make sure it stayed that way.

The morning sun bathed the village in golden light as the eight serpent refugees, each with eyes wide and cautious hearts, were led by two castle guards through the winding cobblestone paths of Moonhollow. Each step closer to their new cottages felt like stepping into another world.

Thalisa, the eldest among them, walked slowly, her cracked scales catching the morning sun. Her joints ached from years of crawling through desert rot, but she stood tall with her chin lifted. Her eyes locked onto a charming vine wrapped cottage nestled at the edge of a small herb garden.

"This... this is mine?" she rasped.

The guard beside her smiled gently. "Yes, Lady Thalisa. Yours to keep. As long as you serve the kingdom with loyalty and heart."

She stepped forward on trembling feet, trailing her clawed fingers along the white stone wall. The door creaked open, and the warmth of a hearth fire welcomed her like an old friend. Her breath hitched in her throat. For the first time in decades, she felt safe.

Behind her, Revek and Syla entered their own cottage. Syla immediately collapsed to her knees, sobbing into the thick, plush rug.

Revek stood frozen, his hand still on the doorknob, eyes scanning the soft couches, polished kitchen counters, and a table already set with fresh bread, honey butter, and steaming soup.

"We used to eat rats," he said hollowly. "He made us. Called it a privilege. Told us our suffering was a blessing."

Syla nodded, tears streaming down her face. "He starved the children to keep us obedient. I watched my sister die with nothing but sand in her mouth."

From another cottage, Jaxor cradled the small child, Kirren, who squealed with joy as a plush fox toy came to life, enchanted by a Sasha protocol.

"Is this real?" Jaxor asked no one. "Is this really for us?"

"Yes," said the mage overseeing their placement, a kind forest fae with ivy braided into her silver hair. "You are safe. You are home."

Kirren ran his tiny hands over the smooth wood of his new bunk bed, his tail flicking behind him in glee. "I get to sleep here every night?"

"You do, moonflower," Thalisa said as she entered behind them. Her eyes scanned the room. She reached out, hand shaking, and picked up a handmade baby blanket. She pressed it to her nose.

"It smells clean."

The rest of the group explored their cottages with wonder and hesitation. Nuren, the former mapmaker, traced the etched runes on the wall with reverence.

"I was forced to draw blood maps," he muttered. "Now I get to hang art."

Sasha silently documented their reactions, Faenet capturing every cry, every gasp, every disbelieving laugh. The realm watched, enchanted.

These eight were broken things, yes. But today they were bathed in light.

When night fell, and they lay curled beneath soft blankets with full bellies and full hearts, they whispered words that once felt forbidden.

"Thank you."

"Please."

"I love you."

And Thalisa, wrapped around Kirren like a shield, whispered the one word none of them dared to speak aloud in years:

"Hope."