The soft glow of the hearth bathed the chamber in a golden light, casting warmth over the polished stone walls. A faint scent of lavender drifted through the air, meant to soothe the restless. Seraphina sat beside the grand wooden cradle, watching over her sleeping children. Her heart swelled with a mix of love and sorrow. This was a rare moment of peace, one that she feared would not last.
Her son, the firstborn, had Valieth’s dark hair and piercing silver eyes, though in sleep, his sharp features were softened by innocence. She could already sense the power humming within him, waiting to awaken. Her daughter, born two weeks later, had inherited
Azrael’s ethereal presence. Her silvery-white hair shimmered even in the dim light, and though she seemed delicate, Seraphina knew that within
