Euryale's POV
Something shifted in the air that evening.
It wasn't wind—Tex would have said something if it were. It wasn't the kind of shift that makes you glance out a window or reach for a weapon. It was quieter. Deeper.
Like the whole house was holding its breath.
I felt it before anyone said a word. And then Salah called out. A short, sharp sound. Not panicked—but urgent. Focused. I watched him rush past the kitchen and into the room where Xena lay. The scent of boiled herbs hung in the air, and a midwife's satchel clinked softly as she entered behind him.
I didn't need to be told what was happening. I already knew.
The baby was coming.
Xena's breaths came in harsh, steady waves, and her fingers dug into the cloth beneath her. Her face was pale but determined. Salah knelt beside her, whispering encouragements that didn't hide his fear.
I stood near the doorway, unmoving.
It was strange—how this moment, so normal for them, felt monumental to me. I've witnessed kingdoms fall and rise. I've walked through fields of lightning and oceans of silence. I've seen the birth of stars, and the death of worlds.
But this? This was different.
This was personal.
This was family.
Hours passed in a haze of murmurs and cries. The midwife moved like someone who had done this a hundred times. Her hands were steady. Her eyes never wavered. Salah barely blinked, torn between holding Xena and pacing the floor.
And then… a sound.
Sharp. Small. Fragile.
A cry.
Not Xena's. A new one.
A life.
The entire room softened, as if the universe had taken a step back and bowed its head.
The midwife smiled and wrapped the tiny child in soft cloth. "He's strong," she said, "and loud."
Xena let out a tired laugh. Salah was already crying. The baby wriggled in her arms, pink and squirming.
They named him Silas.
"Come here, Euryale," Xena whispered, her voice thin but bright. "Meet your brother."
Brother.
The word struck something inside me. It felt foreign and natural all at once.
I stepped closer. Silas was so small I could have held him in one hand. His fingers were curled tightly, his breath shallow and fast. His eyes were closed, but he made little noises—sighs, gurgles, beginnings.
I had once held blades instead of children.
But when Xena gently passed him to me, my hands didn't shake.
"He's… soft," I said, unsure of what else to say.
Salah smiled. "He'll grow just like you did."
I didn't respond. I couldn't. My chest felt full of something unfamiliar.
Not magic.Not memory.Just… warmth.
In the days that followed, the house slowed down.
Everything was quieter, even when Silas cried. The walls felt warmer. Xena slept often, Silas in her arms or resting in a basket Salah had built himself. She was healing, slowly but surely. Color returned to her cheeks. Her smile, though tired, stayed longer each day.
Salah cooked simple meals and told terrible jokes. When he thought no one was watching, he sang to Silas in a low, off-key hum.
I watched it all. I took it in like air.
I was there when Silas opened his eyes for the first time.
They were dark and round, blinking up at me with innocent curiosity. He didn't smile—he was too young for that—but I imagined he understood something. As if he knew I didn't belong to this world in the usual way… and he didn't care.
I told him stories once or twice while Xena napped. Quiet things. Nothing about battles or kings. Just stories about the stars, and what light sounds like underwater. He couldn't understand me, but I think he liked the sound of my voice.
He always calmed when I spoke.
Maybe he could sense it—that I'd once been something more. Or maybe, to him, I was just Euryale. His strange older brother who never seemed to grow as fast as others, but always showed up when it mattered.
Some nights I sat by the window, watching the stars, listening to Silas's quiet breathing from the next room.
I didn't expect this.
I didn't expect to feel… home.
This house was safe.
This family was healing.