The Manor of House Kairus, East Wing
The manor of House Kairus burned with light that night.
Dozens of candles flickered in high windows, their glow spilling across the estate grounds and marble pathways that wound between frozen fountains and silent gardens. The silver sigil of the Kairus family a flame wrapped in wind shimmered faintly atop the eastern gate, as if alive.
It was a night of stillness. The entire household seemed to hold its breath. Servants whispered in corners, guards glanced toward the east wing, and even the hounds that prowled the courtyard lay silent beneath the starlit sky.
Only one sound disturbed the calm the sharp, rhythmic cries of a woman in labor.
They echoed through the corridors, muffled by velvet curtains and thick wooden doors. Hours passed. Voices of healers and attendants rose and fell until at last, the cries faded into silence.
Inside the dimly lit chamber, the air hung heavy with the scent of wax, sweat, and warm linen.
Upon a bed of crimson sheets lay a young woman, dark hair clinging to her skin. Her eyes deep violet and luminous even in the low light blinked slowly, exhaustion pulling at every muscle, yet her face glowed with relief.
Tears streamed down her cheeks not of pain, but of joy.
In her trembling arms rested a newborn child, small and fragile, breathing softly against her chest. His hair was black as midnight, yet when candlelight brushed across it, faint streaks of violet shimmered like amethyst threads. His tiny fists twitched; his lips moved as though tasting air for the first time.
Selene Kairus smiled through her tears.
Beside her stood a tall, broad-shouldered man whose bearing spoke of foreign blood. Scars marked his forearms, and a faint tribal sigil curled over one shoulder the mark of the Beast-Will clans. His short brown hair was tousled, his deep blue eyes wide with awe as he gazed at the child. Kaelen Varros, the tribesman who had married into House Kairus, looked every inch a warrior and yet in that moment he seemed utterly disarmed.
"How is he, Selene?" he asked softly, as if afraid a louder word might shatter the fragile peace. "Is he healthy?"
Selene looked up, her tired smile radiant. "He's perfect, Kaelen. He has your eyes."
Relief washed over him. His jaw unclenched, and he released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
"Thank the winds… I was so afraid."
"Afraid?" she chuckled weakly. "The mighty Kaelen Varros, afraid of a child?"
He laughed under his breath. "Afraid of losing you both."
For a while there was only silence the soft crackle of candles, the quiet hum of wind outside, and the steady breathing of their son.
Kaelen rested a hand on the cradle beside the bed. The wood was carved with curling lines of flame the mark of House Kairus but the rough scars on his palm looked foreign against its polish.
He exhaled softly. "He'll need a name soon."
Selene smiled faintly. "You already have one in mind, don't you?"
Kaelen's lips curved into a grin. "A son of my blood deserves a strong name. Something tribal something that makes the mountains tremble when it's spoken. Ragan, perhaps, or Torin"
"Absolutely not," Selene cut in, her tone firm but amused. "He's not a battle cry, Kaelen."
He chuckled. "You'd rather call him what then? A flower? A poet's dream?"
Her violet eyes narrowed, though her lips twitched with a smile. "Maybe something that means more than war. A name that belongs to him, not to any tradition."
Kaelen leaned his elbows on his knees, thoughtful. "A man without his roots is like a blade without steel, Selene."
"And a man forced to be something he's not," she countered gently, "is a blade that breaks the first time it's used."
Their gazes met two worlds colliding quietly across the space between them.
Selene looked down at the baby in her arms. The candlelight caught the faint shimmer in his hair dark, but laced with violet like starlight caught in shadow.
Her lips curved into a soft smile. "Lucius," she said at last, tasting the word as if it were new to the world. "A name born free for the light he'll find on his own."
Kaelen repeated it under his breath. "Lucius…"He stared at the sleeping infant. The tiny hand that gripped Selene's finger seemed impossibly small, yet strong.
A slow smile spread across his face. "Lucius Kairus," he murmured. "It sounds… right."
Selene brushed her thumb across the baby's cheek. "Then it's settled."
Kaelen sighed in mock defeat and leaned back. "I was certain I'd win this one."
"You'll have better luck naming the next one," she teased softly.
He chuckled. "Then I'll make sure it's a daughter. That way, you can fight her for the name instead."
Selene laughed quietly, exhaustion melting into warmth. "You're impossible."
"And you're stubborn," he replied, lowering his voice as he looked at their son. "But maybe that's why this one will be stronger than both of us."
He turned toward the candles, and with a flick of his fingers, the air stirred. Tiny gusts spiraled through the room, snuffing out each flame one by one until darkness settled. Only the moonlight through the window remained, painting their faces in silver.
Kaelen slipped into bed beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as she laid her head against his chest. The rhythm of his heartbeat lulled her. Their newborn rested in the cradle beside them, his small chest rising and falling with the rhythm of innocence.
"Sleep, my love," Kaelen murmured. "You've done enough for one lifetime."
The manor fell silent once more, save for the wind brushing against the windows as if the world itself bowed in quiet reverence to the birth of a child who would one day change it.
Dawn
The first light of morning crept over the horizon, bleeding gold into the frost-touched fields. The manor's walls glowed softly beneath the sun's embrace.
Kaelen stirred first. He blinked away sleep, his gaze landing on the cradle beside him. Inside, Lucius slept soundly, one small hand resting against his cheek. Kaelen's stern face softened as he reached out, brushing a finger along the boy's hair.
"Welcome to the world, little one," he whispered.
He looked down at Selene, still asleep on his chest. A faint snore escaped her lips, followed by a tiny line of drool sliding onto his shirt. He chuckled quietly, shaking his head.
Then came a knock soft, hesitant.
"Apologies, Lord Kaelen, Lady Selene," came a nervous voice. "The Head of the Family requests word of the birth. And Lady Calista wishes to know of her sister's health."
Kaelen groaned softly, easing Selene onto a pillow before rising. His muscles ached as he crossed the floor and opened the door.
A young maid stood there, bowing low. Her hands shook. "P-Please, my lord, I was sent for news. The Head grows impatient."
Kaelen's expression hardened. "Does the Head have nothing better to do than disturb a mother who gave birth mere hours ago?"
The maid flinched, staring at the floor. "I-I cannot return empty-handed, my lord. Please, anything I can tell them."
He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Tell them this: my wife is safe, our son is healthy, and he bears both her eyes and my blood. We'll attend the family gathering in due time. That will suffice."
The maid nodded quickly and fled down the corridor.
Kaelen shut the door quietly only to hear a sleepy voice behind him.
"You really should work on how you talk to people, dear," Selene murmured, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. "You terrify the poor girl. And don't think I didn't notice you replaced your chest with a pillow."
Kaelen smiled faintly and returned to the bed, dropping down beside her with a groan.
Selene leaned against him, voice soft. "You know my brother will want to see the child himself," she said quietly. "Varian doesn't take kindly to being kept waiting."
Kaelen's arm tightened around her. "He can keep waiting. Let him see that not all strength burns red."
They sat together in silence, the morning sun painting them in gold. Outside, the manor stirred servants sweeping, doors opening, a distant bell tolling the dawn.
But within that sunlit chamber, time seemed to hold still.
And there, wrapped in warmth and love, Lucius Kairus the boy who would one day shake kingdoms slept beneath the first light of his destiny.