4 weeks later.
The sky over Babylonia was clear, painted with streaks of gold as horns blew across the city.
Inside the Grand Hall, the marble glistened. Crimson banners hung from the vaulted ceilings.
A hush fell as Artizea Pendragon, dressed in radiant white silk embroidered with red dragons and gold phoenixes, began her slow walk down the aisle.
Her crown, shaped like flames rising into wings, was carried beside her on a velvet cushion.
Though heavily pregnant—her belly undeniable beneath the silk—she refused aid.
Her hand only rested lightly in Rhyssand's, more for comfort than support. Callisto and Seraphina followed behind with little Lizzie, their tiny hands clutched around ceremonial roses.
The people of Babylonia watched, silent in reverence.
Across the realm, in the heart of the Fae Kingdom, Elaine walked barefoot on moss-covered stone, wearing a gown spun from moonlight and vines.
Romana stood beside her as ancient Fae elders watched.
The grand hall of the Fae Realm, Lunitharion,
was alive with magic. It shimmered in hues of gold and silver, vines laced with glowing blossoms crawling up crystalline columns.
At the same moment her sister crossed the first steps in the throne room, Elaine stepped into the Circle of Ancients.
Her people bowed as the glowing sap of the Great Tree lit up, pulsing with her presence.
Two lands.
Two crowns.
Two sisters.
Starlight filtered through an enchanted ceiling, painting the crowd in a celestial glow.
Thousands of fae, adorned in their finest, had gathered to witness a momentous event: the coronation of their new queen, Elaine.
She stood at the entrance to the hall, her heart pounding.
She wore a gown woven from the threads of moonlight and stardust, its silver fabric cascading like water.
Her wings glimmered faintly, the light catching every delicate vein.
The fae crown that had been forged from Kaelion rested lightly on her head—a diadem of intricate silver and sapphire, shaped to resemble the intertwining branches of an eternal tree.
Kaelion, the King of the Fae, waited at the end of the long aisle.
His gaze was steady, his expression warm and filled with pride.
As she began her walk, the hall fell silent, the only sound the soft chiming of her footsteps against the crystalline floor.
Kaelion stepped forward as she reached the dais, his voice resonant and full of power.
"Today, we welcome not just a queen, but a bond between two realms. Elara has sacrificed and the pendragon's help , inducing the late king Gilgamesh.-, fought, and proven her worth beyond any doubt. She is mortal no longer, but she carries the heart of both worlds. Let it be known—her reign begins today, and her legacy will shape the Fae for eternity."
He extended his hand, and she took it, stepping beside him.
Together, they faced the High Council and the gathered fae.
The Elder Fae, a figure as ancient as the forest itself, approached, holding the Crown of Eternity—a circlet of living branches that glowed faintly with an inner light.
"Elara, daughter of two realms, do you swear to protect the balance of this world, to guard its magic, and to guide its people with wisdom and compassion?"
Elaine raised her chin, her voice steady.
"I swear it, with all that I am and all that I will be."
The elder placed the crown atop her head, its magic intertwining with her own.
A surge of warmth spread through her, the weight of her new role settling on her shoulders—but also a sense of belonging, of destiny fulfilled.
Artizea sat slowly—gracefully—on her father's throne.
It no longer felt like his. It felt like hers now.
She held her head high, her breath steady even as pain twisted low in her belly.
Across the sea of nobles, Gilgamesh's final portrait hung tall behind her—depicting him surrounded by the family, smiling.
The Crown was placed.
"All hail the Queen!" echoed through the hall.
The same words were spoken in the Fae Kingdom… just moments after Elaine took her throne, her wings unfurled like a banner of peace.
Rowan turned to her, his gaze unwavering. He raised his hand, his magic unfurling like a brilliant aurora.
"Elaine pendragon, my queen, my equal. Together, we will protect and nurture this realm. Together, we are stronger than we could ever be apart."
Elaine extended her hand, her magic—golden and radiant—meeting his. Their combined energy lit up the hall, a testament to their bond and the balance they symbolized.
"Ronan Pendragon, my king, my partner. Together, we will build a future where both our worlds thrive. Together, we will endure."
She had told him of their father's vow and he agreed to take the name. To take her as she was.
Their magic entwined, sealing their union not just as rulers, but as kindred spirits tied forever by fate.
The fae erupted into cheers, their voices echoing like a symphony of bells.
Petals rained down from the enchanted ceiling, each one glowing faintly before dissolving into light. The air buzzed with excitement and hope.
Rowan leaned closer, his voice low enough for only Elara to hear.
"You are radiant, my queen. The Fae Realm has never been so lucky."
She smiled, her confidence blooming under his gaze.
"And I will do all I can to be worthy of it."
As the ceremony transitioned into celebration, the grand hall transformed into an ethereal ballroom.
Music filled the air, a melody woven from the wind and stars.
Rowan led Elaine to the center of the floor, their steps in perfect harmony as they danced beneath the starlit canopy.
Around them, the fae joined in, a swirl of light and color. But for Elara and Kaelion, the world faded away.
"we've already had practice didn't we?"
Elaine smiled "I believe we did."
She placed a gentle hand over her heart, feeling her family——even from afar. she whispered, "Sister…"
"Whats wrong?"
"I have to go—"
Back in Babylonia,
The scepter and orb were placed in Artizea's hands, symbols of her authority and the balance she would need to maintain as a ruler.
Its golden frame felt unfamiliar, yet comfortingly firm, as though it had been waiting for her all along.
The coronation crown was not merely a piece of regalia; it was a legacy, worn by every ruler who had come before her, including her father.
On occasion, he hated the thing.
It was forged from gleaming gold and adorned with rubies and topaz, gems that seemed to catch fire as the sunlight poured in through the tall stained-glass windows.
The High Keeper, draped in robes of white and gold, stepped forward, holding the crown aloft.
"By the decree of the heavens and the will of the people, we crown Artizea, daughter of Gilgamesh, rightful ruler of the realm," he declared, his voice ringing with authority.
As Artizea ascended the steps toward the throne, the choir began to sing, their voices filling the air with a hauntingly beautiful hymn that spoke of renewal and hope. Each note echoed through the room, mingling with the murmurs of the gathered nobility and foreign dignitaries who had come to witness this historic moment.
Among them, Artizea caught a glimpse of her Family Their presence gave her strength.
Her father's words echoed in her mind: "One day, this will be your seat."
Artizea Pendragon sat tall on the throne for the first time.
The cheers that followed shook the very walls of the throne room,
She allowed herself a small, triumphant smile.
This was her moment, a new chapter in the story of her lineage. Draped in red and gold, she was not just her father's daughter anymore—she was Queen Artizea Pendragon, ruler of a proud and enduring realm.
Rhyssand leaned close to Artizea.
"You did it."
Artizea glanced sideways, lips parting. Her eyes were wide."Rhys…"
"Yes, my love?"
She blinked once.
"…My water broke halfway.."
Rhyssand froze. "What?"
Artizea gave a tight smile, clearly in pain. "I think I'm going into labor… right now."
Rhyssand looked like he'd been struck by lightning. "Oh. Oh no."
Around them, the nobles continued cheering, utterly unaware.
"Call the midwives!" Arthur shouted, catching on as Artizea began to shift uncomfortably.
Cesealia and Arthuria rushed forward. Getting her out of the ceremonial robes .
At the same time Eugene and Julian, standing nearby, exchanged horrified glances.
Eurgene sighed " Its a miracle this family is taken seriously "
Rhyssand, already lifting her with ease, muttered under his breath,.
Artizea groaned. "Your child couldn't have waited five more minutes?"
As he carried her swiftly down the side hall, the final flare of fireworks lit up the sky above—announcing the rise of the Queen of Babylonia.
The sun had only just dipped behind the hills when Elaine returned to the palace, her fae robes still dusted in forest pollen, her braid adorned with silver leaves gifted by her court.
She was radiant, flushed from the journey and the joy of her sister's newborn child—a rare birth in the fairy realm—and as she stepped into the foyer, her eyes immediately locked on a figure standing beside Eugene.
A boy.
Small. Pale. Quiet, but watchful.
Elaine blinked, smiling.
"And who is this little man?" she asked playfully, stepping closer, voice warm as honeyed tea.
Eugene glanced between them."Ah. You two haven't met yet, have you?"
He placed a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder.
"Elaine, this is my son—Noah. And Noah, this is my second sister, Queen of Sarcasm, long may she oversteep."
Elaine laughed softly. "That title suits me fine."
But Noah…"I liek your wings.."
"You do? Thank you!"
He didn't laugh.
He didn't smile.
Because the moment his name left Eugene's lips—something cracked.
A sound.
Screaming.
A man's scream—hoarse, violent, familiar.
Noah clutched his chest suddenly, a sharp gasp ripping from his throat. His knees nearly gave.
"Noah?" Eugene said, alarmed. "What's wrong?"
The boy's face twisted with pain.
"N-Nothing," Noah choked, holding himself tighter.
Elaine, startled, reached out instinctively to comfort him.
But the moment her fingers brushed his arm—
"Agh—!" Noah cried out, stumbling backward, breath shallow.
The contact had made it worse.
His body trembled.
Elaine's hand froze midair.
"I—I'm sorry," she whispered, pale.
Eugene turned swiftly to the nearby maid. "Are there any maesters free?"
"No, my prince—they're assisting the Queen in her delivery."
"Damn it," Eugene muttered. He dropped to one knee beside Noah, steadying him. "Hang in there, little star. I'm taking you to your father."
Noah nodded weakly, barely holding back the tears behind his lashes.
"I'll be back," Eugene told Elaine quickly. "It's probably another flash. Amnesia maybe—suppressed memory. He's had it before."
Elaine stood frozen as Eugene swept Noah up into his arms and rushed down the corridor.
"I'm sorry," she whispered to the empty space they left behind.
The palace walls shook with the storm of Artizea's labor.
Outside, the sky mirrored her anguish—clouds rolling and winds howling, as if the heavens themselves bore witness to the Queen's pain.
Inside her chambers, Artizea lay drenched in sweat, her gown discarded for white linens soaked in pain and blood.
Her screams echoed through the halls, shaking the hearts of every knight, maid, and noble in waiting.
She screamed again—raw, primal—and cried out, voice cracking:
Tears streamed down her face, her body wracked with exhaustion. Rhyssand, at her side, held her hand with trembling strength, trying to stay composed.
His free hand wiped the sweat from her forehead.
"You're doing so good,."
The room burst open suddenly. Gasps escaped the lips of the healers and midwives.
Elaine stood there, cloaked in moonlight and leaves, a crown of fae light woven into her hair.
Her wings were tucked behind her, but her eyes—those same stormy eyes she shared with her sister—were wide with emotion.
For the first time in months, she had returned.
Before anyone could register her arrival, Artizea's watery gaze met hers.
"El…" she sobbed, voice breaking.
Elaine crossed the room swiftly and took her sister's free hand. "Sister."
Their foreheads touched briefly, the bond of blood stitching closed something raw and fractured.
"You're not alone," Elaine whispered.
"I thought I could do this—" Artizea said, gasping. "Without him— without father—"
" You can..We can. Together "
"now Hush—" Elaine said firmly, squeezing her hand. "And push."
With one final cry and the strength of a queen, Artizea bore down.
The midwife reached out, and moments later, the chamber filled with the first breathless sounds of a newborn baby.
A girl.
Tiny, squirming, furious with life.
She had her father's dark hair, and when she opened her eyes—bright, blazing red like her mother's—the entire room went still.
Not a breath was taken.
Then Elaine, her voice breaking into an unexpected laugh, said:
"If Father were here… he would've died."
Silence. Then—
Artizea let out a broken, tearful laugh.
Then Rhyssand. Then Arthur, and Egune, and Julian. Even the midwives chuckled.
The room, once filled with screams and tension, bloomed with warmth and relief.
Artizea cradled her daughter, pressing her lips to the baby's forehead.
She began to hum a lullaby, soft and familiar.
As the melody filled the room, a gust of wind stirred through the heavy curtains.
The candles flickered. The air shifted—warm, golden, gentle.
No one spoke.
But they all felt it.
It was him.
The chamber was dim, lit only by the soft flicker of floating ward-lights.
The heavy curtains were drawn shut, muffling the world.
Julian sat on the edge of the bed, shirtless, his tattoos humming faintly as his magic pulsed through the air.
Noah lay beneath a thick woven blanket, still pale but breathing steadier now.
His fingers trembled slightly against the sheets.
Eugene paced.
"He was fine," Eugene said for the fourth time. "He was fine. And then—then she just touched him. That was it."
Julian didn't speak at first. He held his hands just above Noah's chest, not touching—letting his magic scan the invisible lines of trauma buried beneath skin and bone.
Finally, he murmured, "It wasn't the touch, Gene. It was the resonance."
Eugene paused. "What do you mean?"
Julian looked up, eyes glowing faintly.
"Elaine is soaked in old fae magic now—deep-rooted, forest-bonded. It clings to her aura like moss to bark." He gestured to Noah. "If he's harboring something… cursed, sealed, or ancient—it would have reacted. Violently."
"But he's just a normal boy."
Julian's gaze softened.
The room was quiet as Noah stirred.
Julian touched his forehead gently—this time with care, his magic like moonlight.
"There's something buried in him," Julian said. "Something old. Not necessarily evil—but it clings to him."
"Can you remove it?"
Julian shook his head slowly. "It's not that simple. This… isn't possession or corruption. It's more like…" he hesitated.
"Like he was meant to forget. And somehow I cant help but feel it was for a good reason."
The room was dim, heavy with lavender oil and the softness that followed storms.
Curtains swayed gently in the breeze.
A candle flickered beside the bedside table, its wax dripping slowly into a silver basin etched with runes of protection and warmth.
Artizea lay beneath silk sheets, pale with exhaustion, but glowing in a way only women who had just delivered life could.
Her golden hair clung to her damp forehead, her eyes half-lidded but still searching for the shape of the world again.
Across the room, slouched in an armchair, Rhyssand sat with a bundle in his arms—tiny, pink, and still.
Athena.
He was already fast asleep, but even unconscious, his wings curled protectively around her like dusk.
Elaine was still awake.
She sat at the edge of the bed, elbow propped on her knee, cheek in her hand, just… watching.
Artizea stirred slightly. Eyes fluttered open.
Elaine smiled.
"Hey you."
Artizea's voice rasped, soft and amused.
"Hey you."
Elaine exhaled. "Another kid, huh."
"I guess so," Artizea murmured, voice somewhere between delirium and contentment. "She's loud."
"She's perfect."
" They all are."
"And a little bit more terrifying."
They both laughed—quietly, so as not to wake the sleeping beast and baby across the room.
A lull settled.
Then Artizea's eyes slid back to Elaine.
"What happened out there?"
Elaine stiffened. Her jaw tightened for just a moment—just enough for Artizea to notice.
"With Noah," Artizea added softly.
Elaine looked down at her hands.
"When I touched him… it felt like something screamed. Not just him. Something inside him. Something ancient. Something… dark."
"A memory?"
Elaine shook her head slowly.
"No. Not quite. It was like… my body recognized something my mind didn't. Like I'd seen that kind of magic before. Long ago. In a place that doesn't have walls or time."
Artizea's gaze sharpened. She said nothing, waiting.
"It wasn't him," Elaine added quickly. "It wasn't evil. But it was buried. Deep. And it didn't want me finding it."
A beat.
"It felt… familiar."
Artizea's voice softened to a whisper.
"Like something in your blood knew it."
Elaine looked at her, eyes shadowed by the flickering candlelight.
"I don't know what that boy is. But when I touched him… something in me said, 'Run.' And I don't want to run, Tizea. I want to love him. I want to trust him."
Artizea reached out, her fingers brushing Elaine's hand.
"You're not afraid of Noah, Elaine. You're afraid of not understanding him. There's a difference."
Elaine blinked, a tear escaping unannounced.
"You think I'm overthinking it?"
Artizea shook her head slowly.
"No. I think… if there's one person who'll recognize what lives inside that boy, it's you. And not because of what you touched—but because of what you've survived."
Elaine nodded slowly.
She looked across the room again. To the man who slept with a baby curled in his arms.
To the love of her sister's life.
To the child named for power.
And to the war still waiting in the bones of a boy they all loved.
"Then I'll wait," she whispered. "I'll wait and watch. And when he's ready… I'll help him remember what he's forgotten."
"Promise?"
Elaine smiled faintly.
"On all the tea and tarts int his palace."
Artizea was barely awake, her voice low, nearly lost in the hush.
"The only one left now… is you."
Elaine, who had been watching the flicker of candlelight on her sister's face, blinked slowly.
"You're going to be a great mother one day, Elaine. Whether by blood… or by heart."
Elaine's breath hitched.
"You think so?"
"I know so."
"I can't. Fae cannot…reproduce."
"I am sorry my sister…'
"It is fine..I was crowned queen today."
Artizea turned her head slightly on the pillow, eyes warm.
"So was I."
Silence again—this time thick with memory.
Elaine's smile faltered just a little. She looked down at her hands, twisting her fingers slowly.
"I think I want to wait."
Elaine didn't ask what she meant.
She knew.
Artizea voice was softer now. More fragile.
"It's not been that long since Father passed. I want to mourn him properly. Before I… before I try to rule. Let mama..have somthing to do…"
Elaine nodded.
"You'll know when it's time."
"Will I?"
Artizea reached for her hand again, their fingers intertwining quietly.
Elaine looked back at her sister—crowned, weary, cradled in candlelight with battle barely faded beneath silk sheets—and for the first time in days, she allowed herself to grieve.
Not just for their father.
But for the girlhoods they no longer had time to remember.
For the women they were still becoming.
They sat there in the quiet.
Two queens.
Two sisters.
Two daughters of the storm.
And neither of them was truly alone.
They wouldn't face it alone.