THE UNBROKEN

Marisiana, the next morning.

The light was soft, muffled through rising mist as dawn crept over the ridges of the Free Territories. Parliament's towering spires cast long shadows across the flagstones as the last of the stormclouds drifted eastward, toward Veracchia.

In the courtyard below the west tower, Alejandro stood alone, save for the hawk on his arm.

He adjusted the silver band around her leg one last time. The bird, sleek and statuesque, had wings tipped in ink-black and feathers that shimmered faintly like stormlight. Her amber eyes blinked slowly as she tilted her head, studying him like she knew this wasn't just a farewell- but a legacy.

Footsteps behind him.

Phineus approached in his full leathers. Weather-worn, battle-ready. The Matteo crest gleamed on his chestplate. But his shoulders were tense, jaw set too tightly. Still so young, and already shouldering a name that could move empires or destroy them.

Alejandro didn't speak at first. He simply held the hawk out.

"She's yours now," he said. "Her name is Clara."

Phineus reached for her, slower than expected. Reverent.

"She's beautiful," he murmured, stroking her chest with a gloved finger. "Just like Azura."

Alejandro gave a soft chuckle at that. Azura had been Seamus' favorite growing up. Untamable and fierce, who once bit a visiting bishop and had to be hidden behind a tapestry for three days.

He blinked, then handed over a small silver whistle, etched with the Matteo crest and the sigils of the Free Territories. A storm spiral sat in the center like an eye.

"She's enchanted to you," he said. "No matter how far. No matter how lost. Just one blow, and she'll come."

Phineus took it carefully, as if it were a weapon. Or a promise.

Then he paused. His expression changed.

He looked up at Alejandro. Really looked.

"…Father," he said quietly.

Alejandro froze.

For a moment, it seemed like time stopped, birds stilled in the trees, wind held its breath.

Phineus smiled, eyes bright and fierce with emotion. "You've always been one. Maybe not by blood. But you fought for me. Stood by me. Taught me who I was. So… thank you."

Alejandro broke.

The old rouge, so disciplined, so scarred, so eternally composed, made no attempt to hold back. He pulled Phineus into a crushing embrace, the kind that shuddered with grief and relief and pride all at once. His shoulders trembled. His breath caught.

And still, he said nothing. He didn't need to.

Phineus held him tightly, with all the strength of a son who finally understood what it meant to belong to a legacy.

And that's when Aurora walked in.

Boots echoing down the stairs, cloak swishing behind her, eyes sharp as flint.

She paused at the threshold.

Arched an eyebrow. Crossed her arms. Practically glared.

"…Are you drunk?" she asked, tilting her head suspiciously.

Alejandro let out a snort mid-sob. Phineus burst into laughter, burying his face in Alejandro's shoulder before straightening.

"No," Phineus grinned, voice thick. "Just finally family."

Aurora rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the smile creeping over her mouth.

"Sentimental little brats," she muttered, brushing a loose curl from her brow. "Don't miss your damn ship. Or I will kill you myself."

Phineus saluted her, fist to heart, head bowed- exactly like Seamus used to.

It stopped Aurora cold for half a heartbeat.

Then he turned and walked away, each step carrying generations with him.

Alejandro watched as Clara launched from his arm, circling once overhead before following Phineus into the rising sun.

He stood there long after the boy had vanished from sight, his hand pressed against his chest.

A prayer, quiet and breathless, left his lips.

"Let him find them.

Let him bring them home."