The tempest outside Eldrathis's Crown Estate mirrored the maelstrom within.
Thunder, a ceaseless, booming percussion, rattled the ancient leaded glass of the nurseries, each crackle of lightning momentarily etching the opulent room in stark, flickering detail.
Rain, thick as falling rivers, lashed against the stone walls, and the wind, a mournful, hungry howl, seemed to keen a dirge for the tragedy unfolding.
Within, the air crackled with a different kind of tension, one wrought by sheer, unfathomable terror.
The Crown family, the venerable lineage whose power had shaped Eldrathis for millennia, stood frozen. Not by choice, but by an unseen, undeniable force that held them captive, their muscles rigid, their vocal cords silent.
They were statues in a nightmare, forced to witness the impossible.
Seraphina, her heart a raw, bleeding wound, watched her infant son, float effortlessly into the arms of the mysterious woman.
Her precious, fragile boy, had been dissolving, his tiny form melting away like snow in the sun. Now, cradled against the woman's chest, he seemed to find a bizarre, fleeting solace.
The woman's gaze, which had held an otherworldly serenity even amidst the chaos of child undoing, now softened. A profound, almost ancient sorrow flickered in its depths as she looked down at the dissolving infant, her brow furrowed with a gentle, heart-wrenching concern.
The sight was an abomination, a violation of all natural laws. Child translucent skin was thinning further, revealing the delicate latticework of his tiny bones.
A sickly steam rose from his rapidly shrinking form, carrying with it the faint, sweet scent of fading life. Seraphina's mind screamed, a silent, desperate wail that echoed in the prison of her skull.
She couldn't move, couldn't cry out, couldn't even reach for her child. The helplessness was a burning brand, searing itself into her very soul.
Then, the woman moved her hand. It was not a gesture of power, not a dramatic flourish, but a delicate touch, her fingertips brushing the child's melting skin with an almost reverent tenderness. And with that contact, the impossible began to unfold.
A wave of pure, luminous energy, vibrant and alive, flowed from her. It was unlike anything they, the Crown family, masters of Eldrathis's deepest magics, had ever witnessed.
It was not the familiar, structured energy of the Nexus, the wellspring of all conventional magic, nor the raw, chaotic power that fueled the storm raging outside.
It was… different. It hummed with a resonance that vibrated deep within their frozen bones, a soundless melody that spoke of creation and eternity.
The melting stopped. The sickly steam, which had been dissolving child into nothingness, vanished, replaced by a faint, warm glow that emanated from his tiny form.
Then, unbelievably, the child began to heal. The translucent skin thickened, reformed, the delicate capillaries knitting themselves back together, cell by agonizing cell.
The exposed bone receded, covered by new, healthy flesh, smooth and unblemished. The sunken eye swelled, regained its shape, a perfect, unblemished orb, a miniature window to a nascent soul.
The process was excruciatingly slow, deliberate, yet inexorable. They watched, transfixed, as child's tiny form, which had been dissolving into oblivion, knitted itself back together, tissue by tissue.
It was a miracle unfolding before their disbelieving eyes, a painstaking reconstruction of life from the very brink of nothingness. Each second stretched into an eternity, each minute a lifetime, as the woman's gentle touch pulsed with that incomprehensible energy, drawing Elias back from the void.
The healing continued, a slow, steady reconstruction that would take a full, agonizing hour.
The Crown family, the most powerful lineage in Eldrathis, stood helpless, their minds reeling. They had watched their child melt, unable to do anything.
Now, this mysterious being, who had appeared from nowhere, could heal what their greatest healers and most potent spells could not even comprehend.
A profound sense of their own inadequacy, their own powerlessness, washed over them. Their legacy, their dominion, their very understanding of reality, crumbled before this silent, undeniable display of supremacy.
They couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't even twitch a muscle, yet they could feel the energy emanating from her touch – an energy unlike any they had encountered, a force that reshaped fundamental existence itself.
It was composed of seven distinct currents, flowing in a harmonious symphony that resonated with an unheard frequency. Six of these energy were recognizable, echoes of the fundamental energies that shaped their world: Mana, Spiritual, Demonic, Dark, Death and Life/Soul Energy.
These were the pillars of existence they wielded and understood, albeit never with such raw and purity. But the seventh… the seventh was utterly unknown, a profound mystery that defied all understanding.
It was a vibrant, pure essence that transcended all known forms, a shimmering, thread woven through the other six, giving them a depth and power they had never possessed.
It felt like... truth. Or perhaps, love. They couldn't name it, but its presence was undeniable, overwhelming.
An hour crawled by, each minute a testament to the woman's unwavering focus and the child's miraculous resurrection.
The storm outside ebbed and flowed, but inside, time seemed to blur, fixed only on the slow, painstaking recreation of life.
Finally, after a full hour of silent, agonizing observation, the child was whole. Child's skin was smooth, unblemished, his features perfectly formed, each tiny detail meticulously restored.
His black hair, a fine down, was a perfect match to Seraphina's, and his soft grey eyes, now open and gazing up with innocent wonder at the woman holding him, were identical to his mother's.
He was a perfect copy of his twin, an exact miniature of his mother, Seraphina. His tiny face, serene and utterly breathtaking in its perfection, was a testament to a power beyond their wildest imaginings.
A profound joy, a radiant, almost divine warmth, spread across the mysterious woman's face.
The solemnity that had marked her features softened, replaced by an expression of pure, unadulterated love, a profound motherly tenderness that seemed to encompass the entire room, radiating outwards like a gentle sun.
A faint, knowing smile touched her lips, a silent acknowledgment of the miracle she had woven.
She turned, her movements fluid and graceful, and approached Seraphina. As she drew near, the invisible bonds that held the Crown family frozen shattered.
The release was sudden, violent. Seraphina gasped, her body jolting back to life with a convulsive tremor, her legs nearly giving way beneath her as her knees buckled.
Her breath hitched in her throat, a guttural sob escaping her lips. She stared at the woman, then at the perfectly healed child in her arms, her mind struggling desperately to process the impossible, the miraculous.
Her eyes, wide with disbelief and an agonizing, nascent hope, swam with unshed tears.
The woman gently extended the baby towards Seraphina. "Elias," her voice was a soft, melodic whisper, a sound that resonated with ancient wisdom and profound love, filling the sudden void left by the storm's momentary lull.
Seraphina reached out, her hands trembling uncontrollably as she took her son, her fingers brushing the woman's. A jolt, not of pain but of pure, unadulterated life, surged through her, solidifying the reality of Elias, warm and whole in her arms.
She clutched him to her chest, burying her face in his soft, perfect hair, her entire being consumed by an overwhelming wave of relief and love so potent it threatened to shatter her.
Then, the woman gestured towards the girl child, still clutched tightly in Seraphina mother's [Akane] arms.
Akane, Seraphina's sister [Siara] and Seraphina father's[ Aevin], had remained frozen, her terror for mirrored by her awe at Elias's healing. "Sara."