Chapter 204- Tiny Surprises
Lexy
The moment I settled beneath the willow, the world felt… different. The usual tension that clung to me—the weight of kingdoms, alliances, and the lives in my care—slid slightly away. My children’s small forms encircled me, their breaths rising and falling in a rhythm that somehow matched my own.
At first, I told myself it was merely the magic of their innocence. Children were light, and their laughter and presence often carried an energy all their own. But what happened next went beyond simple warmth or comfort.
As we closed our eyes and began to breathe in unison, I felt the air around us thicken, the faintest tremor of power brushing my skin. It wasn’t threatening—it was… expectant. Waiting. The familiar heat in my chest deepened, not wild like battle fire but steady, tempered, as if the flames themselves recognized something I could not yet name.
The children moved subtly, their tiny hands lifting as though they were sensing the current that hummed between us. I tried to focus, tried to anchor myself, but the sensation was growing, threading into my very veins. Every beat of my heart seemed to echo outward, touching them, connecting us.
I felt my power respond to theirs. Not the controlled fire I wielded in battle, not the flares I unleashed to protect or destroy, but something raw and ancient. Something that seemed to acknowledge its place in a larger pattern, something I had never encountered in all my years as queen.
A pulse moved through me then, gentle yet insistent, stirring memories I hadn’t thought about in decades. My earliest lessons in control, the first moments I’d realized what fire could do, the fear and exhilaration of power meeting purpose—they all swirled together. But this time, it was different. This time, the fire wasn’t only mine. It intertwined with something entirely new: the presence of life, of growth, of future.
I opened my senses further, feeling them—the triplets—more clearly than I ever had. Each of their tiny bodies hummed with vitality, a resonance that seemed to mirror mine. Every exhale, every breath, carried a faint glow I could feel with my mind as well as my body. My fire responded instinctively, curling toward them, protective, reverent, alive.
The sensation was overwhelming. My chest tightened, my mind raced, and yet, paradoxically, I was calm. Centered. Focused in a way I hadn’t realized I could be. They were anchoring me, not the other way around. It was humbling, terrifying, exhilarating all at once.
I sensed something else then, deeper, more subtle. Not a thought, not a voice, but a presence—an awareness that threaded through the circle, brushing against the edges of my mind. The children’s connection to me wasn’t just emotional or instinctive; it was tangible, a current of energy I had never known before.
And through that current, I glimpsed… something.
A vision? A whisper? My heart stammered. I couldn’t name it, couldn’t define it. It felt as though the threads of past, present, and future brushed against each other in the space around us, pulled tight by the innocence and power of these small forms. My fire responded instinctively, flaring softly, mingling with something that wasn’t just mine but part of the children, part of them, part of a connection I couldn’t yet understand.
I opened my eyes slowly, expecting the garden to look the same as when I had sat down. But the light seemed sharper, the colors more vivid. The air hummed faintly, almost audibly, and I felt the rhythm of the children’s breathing sync with the rhythm of my own pulse in a way that defied ordinary logic.
I reached out instinctively, brushing a hand across one of their small shoulders. They didn’t stir, didn’t break their focus. And yet, I could feel them respond. A tiny spark of warmth, a flicker, subtle, almost imperceptible, but it moved through me like a tether, grounding me in a way that I had never experienced.
A shiver ran down my spine. I had faced firestorms, wars, betrayals, and enemies who wielded power as recklessly as I had wielded mine in my youth. I had faced death and loss, stood at the edge of destruction countless times. And yet, nothing had struck me with the weight of this quiet, tethered energy. Nothing had shaken me as deeply as sitting here, surrounded by my own children, sensing the echoes of something far greater than I could name.
The current pulsed again, and my stomach tightened—not from fear, but from awe. My fire surged slightly, warming my chest, brushing the edges of my consciousness. I could feel their tiny hearts, could feel the lives growing inside me, and the connection deepened. My own unborn children, the triplets, seemed to respond. My mind reeled at the thought that even before birth, they might sense what was happening in the circle.
The rhythm of breathing continued, steady, unbroken. I could feel Tarria’s eyes on us, her quiet presence nearby, a mixture of curiosity and disbelief. Even she couldn’t deny the current that pulsed through the air, that threaded between us. But I wasn’t concerned with anyone else. Not now.
I allowed myself to lean fully into the sensation, to let the fire within me respond without restraint. But it was no longer just fire—it was light and shadow, warmth and energy, life and potential. It swept through me, brushing against every nerve, every cell, until I felt utterly exposed, utterly seen, and yet utterly protected.
A part of me wanted to speak, to ask what this was, to name it. But no words came. No words could contain it. I only allowed myself to feel, to exist within the circle, tethered to my children, tethered to something far beyond my understanding.
And then, as quickly as it began, it paused. The air was still. My heart slowed. The energy lingered, faint now, like embers after a flame has passed, but the resonance remained. My breath caught, my mind reeled.
I opened my eyes fully. The triplets blinked, perfectly calm, perfectly focused, unaware of the tremor I felt coursing through me. The garden looked ordinary, but I knew it wasn’t. The world had shifted in ways I couldn’t yet define, and something had been awakened that I could not explain.
I swallowed, my hand still resting protectively on one of the small shoulders. My heart raced. My mind spun. And yet, even in the midst of my shock, I knew one undeniable truth:
I had glimpsed something extraordinary. Something that would change everything.
And I wasn’t ready to understand it yet.
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