📍 Chapter 74 – The Mercy That Bit Back
The child lay wrapped in soft white linen, tucked in Zara's arms.
He had finally stopped crying.
Tiny hands curled into fists. Eyes closed. Chest rising and falling against her skin.
Zara stared at him with awe, wonder, and quiet terror.
He was beautiful. Alive. Perfect.
And the world was coming for him.
---
The midwives worked in silence, cleaning the blood, clearing cloths, checking Zara's vitals. One whispered to the other that Zara had lost too much blood — but her pulse was strong.
She was awake. Alert.
And angry.
Outside, steel clashed on stone. The palace was under siege.
Leva paced by the chamber door, sword drawn, every breath tight. She refused to sit. Refused to blink.
Zaire hadn't returned from the wall.
And Zara knew what that meant.
He was buying her time.
Time for her to breathe.
Time to hold her son.
Time to *live*.
---
Then the door creaked.
Softly.
Leva spun, blade raised.
But it wasn't a guard.
It was a woman — short, pale, with calm steps and empty hands.
At first glance, she looked like a healer.
But Zara recognized her instantly.
"Cress."
Leva frowned. "Who?"
Zara's throat tightened.
"Cress of Endel Hollow," she whispered. "She was one of the captives we spared during the northern rebellion. Three years ago."
Cress smiled faintly. "I was the one with the burned face. You let me live."
Leva narrowed her eyes. "You said you'd never raise a blade again."
Cress stepped into the room.
"I didn't."
And then she pulled a thin silver wire from beneath her cloak.
Silent. Deadly. Tight.
"Now I only use rope."
---
Leva charged.
Cress was faster.
The wire looped once — twice — and Leva's sword clattered to the ground as the tension sliced across her arm.
But Leva kicked hard, slamming Cress into the wall.
Zara screamed, shielding her child with her body.
The midwives ran for the corner.
Cress rolled, sprang up — and this time went *straight for Zara*.
---
Zara's mind moved before her body.
She threw a heavy iron pot at Cress's face — caught her in the temple.
The assassin stumbled.
Leva tackled her.
They hit the ground, rolling, grunting, blood smearing the stone.
The wire wrapped around Leva's wrist — slicing deep — but she didn't let go.
Zara watched in horror as Leva shouted, "RUN!"
But she couldn't.
Her body was too weak.
And the child was too small.
---
Cress broke free.
Leva dropped — stunned, bleeding.
Cress rose, panting, eyes on the child.
Zara stood.
Blood on her legs.
Tears in her eyes.
Her voice firm.
"If you touch him, I'll kill you."
Cress smiled sadly. "He'll be raised by the Raven. Just like I was."
She stepped closer.
Zara did the only thing she could.
She bit into her own hand — hard — and let blood drip down her arm.
Then she whispered the phrase:
> "Red river. Open gate."
A spell.
Ancient. Dangerous.
Taught by a dying witch in the borderlands.
The floor shuddered.
A gust of wind howled through the window.
Cress faltered.
The lights dimmed.
And something **dark** entered the room.
Not a demon.
But a memory.
A phantom of Zara's mother — a pale silhouette with a sword of smoke.
It surged toward Cress, silent, fast, cold.
The assassin screamed — once — and crumpled.
The phantom faded.
And silence returned.
---
Zara collapsed to her knees, breath shaking.
Leva groaned from the floor.
The midwives crawled out from hiding.
Zara held her child close, tears soaking his blanket.
"He's safe," she whispered. "You're safe."
Leva crawled to her side.
"What… was that?"
Zara didn't answer.
She just stared at her son.
And smiled.
---
Moments later, Zaire returned — his face pale, armor dented.
"They're retreating," he gasped. "Malric flanked them. We held."
He looked around, saw the blood.
Saw Cress's body.
"What happened?"
Zara didn't speak.
She simply looked at him.
And whispered,
"Mercy has a cost."
---
That night, a fire burned outside the palace walls.
The Raven army lit their dead.
But the palace remained standing.
And within it, a child — the heir — slept for the first time.
Unharmed.
But **watched**.
From far, far away…
In the shadows of the northern peaks…
The Raven General removed his mask.
A scarred woman watched him from the side.
"Shall I try again?" she asked.
He smiled slowly.
"No. Let them think they've won."
He lit a candle.
"One day soon, that child will beg to join us."