THE UNBROKEN

They both knew it, felt it, before anything even happened. That creeping edge of dread curling in their bellies like a silent wind before a squall.

Elena and Niegal had grown more desperate with every passing night.

The forest was no longer safety. It was closing in.

Inquisition riders were everywhere now, cloaked in dark priest's garb and iron-reinforced crimson armor, riding black horses that left no sound behind. They moved in packs, blessed rifles on their backs, blades on their hips, and holy writs meant to bind any practitioner who dared resist.

So, the family kept moving. Only at night.

When Esperanza slept, her tiny body nestled safely against her father's chest, wrapped tight in warm cloth and protective sigils. Elena stayed close, hand on her blade, spells at her fingertips. But the deeper they went into the wilds, the more grim things looked.

Their magic was thinning.

Their hope stretched.

And that's when it happened.

A soundless explosion.

A rupture of air and mana so sudden it threw them apart.

The forest lit up like dawn. Trees snapped. Soil cracked. The night screamed.

Niegal hit the ground hard, twisted to land on his back to protect the baby, and transformed on instinct- his bones cracking, fur bursting from skin as he roared, cradling Esperanza in his arms, silver eyes flashing with feral rage.

Elena-

She was dazed. Pain sang through her ribs, her limbs heavy. Her vision danced with white stars. She reached out blindly, her body trembling as her fingers curled against damp earth and broken twigs.

A mana trap.

She realized it too late. Her veins were burning. Her breath staggered.

Niegal howled her name and leapt to her side, claws retracting just enough to touch her. He was frantic, muzzle brushing her hair, trembling.

"I'm okay," she whispered. A lie.

But her voice calmed Esperanza, who wailed in Niegal's arms, tiny hands clenched into fists of light.

Niegal looked her over. Her spiraling black pearl scars, normally alive with magic. were dull. Still.

And worse, the Blade of Boinayel at her hip… it was silent.

Dry.

Lifeless.

His heart dropped like a stone.

"Come," he growled, low and lethal. "We move. I won't lose either of you."

He carried them both into the dark. Elena limping beside him at first, then unable to even walk. He scooped her into his arms, cradling them both.

By dawn, she was feverish.

Burning.

Niegal's hands glowed green as he tried to balance her energy, sending wave after wave of magic into her body to stabilize her. It helped, briefly, but her skin stayed too hot, her breath too shallow.

Mana sickness.

He'd heard of it. A rare affliction when too much raw magic, especially corrupted mana, ravaged the body.

Every step they took, Elena got worse.

By evening, she collapsed mid-step, her eyes rolling back.

Niegal caught her before she hit the ground.

He didn't cry.

He didn't scream.

He just held her close and whispered, "No. Please. Not you. Not now."

That's when lightning split the sky—a jagged crack from above.

In its searing light, Niegal saw it: a hidden cave, veiled by vines and roots. A sanctuary carved into the cliffside, just big enough to hold a family of three.

Without a word, he ran.

Inside, it was dry and dim. Smelled of stone, moss, and time.

He laid Elena down, wrapped her in blankets, pressed his forehead to hers.

"I should've protected you."

But she opened her eyes, barely, and touched his face.

"You did. You always do."

His heart cracked open. He kissed her burning skin, whispered prayer after prayer to Guabancex, to the ancestors, to anyone who would listen.

Then, as rain beat the mouth of the cave…

Esperanza stirred.

She had been sleeping this whole time, peacefully, her tiny body exhausted from it all. But now, with eyes still closed, she raised a hand in the air.

Purple and green light bloomed from her fingers.

It swirled over her mother like a dance; tender and wild, storm-born.

Elena gasped.

Niegal flinched, watching.

The light moved along her scars, reigniting them with a soft, steady glow. A familiar whisper of rain echoed in the blade of Boinayel.

Elena's skin cooled. Her chest rose and fell evenly. Color returned to her cheeks.

She was healing.

Niegal could barely breathe.

He wept.

Elena opened her eyes fully, vision clear, and realized what had happened.

"She saved me," she whispered. "Again."

They held each other close, both trembling. Not from fear, but from love, and the awe of the magic their daughter held inside her.

Outside, the storm raged like a shield around the cave.

Inside, the Lion, the Storm, and their Light curled into each other, a family bound by fate, blood, and magic.

And for one more night, they were safe.