The air was still, too still.
Kael lay motionless beneath the canopy of ancient, glowing trees. His breath was shallow, his body numb, his magic gone. The forbidden spell had hollowed him out.
Beside him, Elira cradled the newborns, her arms trembling with exhaustion. The twins did not cry. They barely moved. Their tiny forms were wrapped in cloth and silence, their presence unsettlingly calm.
The Lower Realm pulsed around them. Trees towered like titans, bark veined with dim bioluminescence. The rivers shimmered silver. The mist moved with thought.
They were not alone.
Kael felt it first, a pressure in the air, immense and invisible. Not magic. Not a beast. Something older. Watching.
Elira stirred, lifting her head weakly. Her eyes scanned the fog.
The presence didn't strike. It only lingered, ancient, immense, patient.
Kael tried to sit. Failed. The realization struck again: he was broken.
His jaw clenched.
Elira looked at him. "It hasn't left."
He nodded slowly. "No. But neither have we."
Then, the baby girl stirred.
A soft sound, like a sigh. The mist shifted.
Not away. Not threatening. Yielding.
The pressure in Kael's skull eased. He exhaled slowly. Whatever had been watching them... paused.
The boy followed, curling a tiny hand.
The trees shimmered.
The mist retreated, slightly.
Kael blinked, stunned.
The realm had changed.
It had seen them.
And it had not attacked.
Yet.