Chapter 231: The Children He Had Yet to Meet

[Sah’Rumeh Village — The Healer’s Hut — Later]

Silence filled the hut, a peaceful silence. The kind of silence neither Levin nor Zeramet had experienced for many days.

Outside the village slowly recovered from Ashkareth’s attack, warriors returned, villagers emerged from shelters, children ran through the streets again and for the first time in years Sah’Rumeh for one day felt fearless.

Inside the hut, Zeramet still occupied Levin’s lap, completely shamelessly. As though he had forgotten he was an emperor, as though he had forgotten other beasts existed. Levin stared at the silver-haired menace.

"...Are you planning to stay there forever?"

Immediately Zeramet answered. "Perhaps."

Levin smiled faintly; Asha was tired of their too much love, and even Lyresaph looked mildly offended. Then Zeramet continued very seriously: "I have been separated from my Moonflower for days. I believe this behavior is justified."

Silence.

Levin stared. Then slowly he rubbed his forehead because somehow the terrifying Emperor of Zahryssar had become even more unreasonable.

Then suddenly—

GROWWWWL.

A low growl echoed inside the hut, and everyone looked toward the corner. Toward Lyresaph. The silver dragon sat wrapped around the nest, blue eyes fixed directly on Zeramet, watching and judging.

Zeramet frowned slightly. "...Why is he staring at me this intensily?"

Then Levin smiled softly, mumbling, "Because he realized you haven’t noticed something, Precious."

Zeramet had not looked toward the nest, not once, not even accidentally, because from the moment he entered the hut, his entire attention had remained on Levin.

Then Zeramet looked back at Levin, putting his head on his lap again, asking, "What’s more precious that my moonflower in this entire space?"

Levin looked toward the eggs, then toward Zeramet, then back toward the eggs, and suddenly his lips twitched dangerously because for the first time in many days he had discovered an opportunity.

Zeramet immediately became suspicious.

"...Moonflower."

Levin smiled, the dangerous kind of smile. The smile that usually preceded suffering. Immediately, the emperor became nervous.

"...What?"

Levin pointed toward the nest. "Look over there."

Zeramet turned, slowly...very slowly. Then he froze completely.

The world stopped, his breathing stopped, and his thoughts stopped because inside the nest wrapped in warm blankets rested two enormous eggs.

One silver. One gold, both covered in ancient royal markings, both glowing faintly, and both very real. The Emperor of Zahryssar continued staring, then staring harder. Then somehow staring even harder.

As though he believed the eggs would disappear if he blinked. Then finally, very quietly, he asked, "...Moonflower, why are there two?"

Silence.

Levin immediately looked away because he knew the confusion was beginning. Zeramet looked toward the silver egg, then toward the golden one.

Then toward Levin. Then back toward the eggs, then back toward Levin again. "...There were supposed to be complications; one egg was damaged; why are there still two?"

Holding the pendant of a sirrash heart, Levin said with a slight smile, "We were surprised too, but guess....Lord Urzan has always been with us. He may be displaying the difficulties, but he is not causing us pain. And one of our kids has made it through the worst, and they are resilient enough to come for us."

Zeramet slowly approached the nest, carefully...almost nervously, as though approaching something sacred, something precious, and something he was afraid to touch.

Then slowly he knelt before two eggs, and his expression softened completely. Then very carefully he touched the silver shell. A tiny crack of light moved beneath the surface.

Immediately Zeramet froze. Then the golden egg moved.

THUMP.

Silence and everyone froze.

THUMP.

The silver egg moved too, and suddenly the Emperor of Zahryssar looked absolutely horrified. "...They move."

Then Levin asked, "...What exactly were you expecting?"

Zeramet remained frozen, still staring at the eggs like a man who had just realized he was responsible for two tiny disasters. And for the first time, the terrifying Emperor of Zahryssar felt something he had never felt before.

Pure parental panic.

Silence filled the hut. silence of something new and precious. Zeramet remained kneeling before the nest.

Still staring.

Still frozen.

Still trying to process the fact that he had somehow become the father of two children. Then Levin moved beside him; the smile on his face softened because for the first time since meeting Zeramet, the terrifying Emperor of Zahryssar looked completely lost.

Then quietly Levin reached forward, taking Zeramet’s hand. The large hand immediately closed around his instinctively, as though afraid Levin would disappear.

Then gently Levin guided that hand toward the eggs, toward the silver shell and toward the golden shell. And softly, almost like a whisper, he said, "...They were waiting for you, Zer."

Silence.

The words struck harder than Ashkareth or Slyvarakh ever could because suddenly everything became real.

The family is waiting for him. Then slowly, very slowly, Zeramet’s fingers touched the silver shell again.

THUMP.

Immediately something moved inside.

A tiny response, heartbeat, and life waiting. The golden egg moved too.

THUMP.

As though recognizing and greeting him. As though saying:

Father.

The Emperor froze completely. Then something happened; his serpent eyes glowed faintly. Ancient golden light spreading across his pupils, not because of power and not because of rage but because something deep inside him awakened.

The father. The protector. The part of him that would destroy kingdoms for these tiny lives.

His fingers trembled then quietly—so quietly he asked, "...Were they truly born safely?"

Levin nodded. "Grandmother Hira helped me."

Then Zeramet lowered his head; his forehead was touching the edge of the nest like a prayer and like gratitude.

Then finally his voice broke. "...Thank you."

Levin blinked, and Zeramet continued, still staring at the eggs and still unable to look away. "Thank you for carrying them, thank you for protecting them, and thank you for bringing them into this world."

Levin’s fingers tightened slightly. Zeramet’s voice became rougher and more painful because now he was seeing everything he had missed.

The fear, the pain, the loneliness, and he hated it. Hated every moment Levin endured without him. Then, quietly, almost like a confession, he whispered:

"...I truly apologize; I should have been there. When you were frightened...when you were suffering...when they were born..." His voice cracked. "I should have been beside you."

Levin stared because Zeramet wasn’t speaking as a Malik, or an Emperor, or a Prime Alpha. He was speaking as a husband and as a father.

Then suddenly Zeramet rose; silver light spread across the room, ancient, warm, and beautiful. And within moments his body transformed. A colossal silver serpent appeared inside the hut. Silver scales gleaming beneath the lantern light. Golden eyes glowing softly.

Immediately Lyresaph blinked, then jumped away from the nest. Landing beside Asha, now in small form. As though understanding. As though knowing exactly what came next.

Zeramet slowly wrapped his enormous silver tail around both eggs, carefully, protectively, and gently. Not even allowing a single scale to press too hard. Warmth immediately spread, ancient serpent warmth.

The warmth every royal hatchling needed. The warmth they had been missing. The warmth only a father could provide.

THUMP.

The silver egg moved.

THUMP.

The golden egg moved too, even stronger this time. As though the hatchlings finally felt complete and as though they had finally found what they had been searching for.

Then Zeramet lowered his massive head, looking toward Levin; those golden eyes softened completely.

Then slowly he nudged Levin with the side of his silver head, carefully and affectionately like a serpent offering his entire heart.

Then quietly he spoke. "Thank you, Consort."

The words echoed softly throughout the hut, then his head rested briefly against Levin’s shoulder, and the Emperor sounded completely vulnerable.

"...I will never leave you again."

Silence.

The eggs glowed softly, and the warmth continued spreading. Zeramet closed his eyes, as though making a vow before the heavens themselves.

"As Malik, as husband and as father." His voice became firm. "I swear it, I will never leave your side again; I will never let this accidental separation happen again."

The silver tail tightened protectively around the eggs, and his golden eyes opened once more. Looking only at Levin and looking only at home.

"We shall protect them together."

Silence, a beautiful silence.

Outside the winds of Sah’Rumeh moved gently through the village, and inside the healer’s hut, for the first time in many days the broken family finally felt whole.

***

[Zahryssar — Imperial Palace — Throne Hall]

CRAAAAASH!!!

The crystal goblet shattered against the knight’s face. Red wine exploded across the polished black floor. The knight immediately fell to his knees, blood mixed with wine. Yet he did not dare move because the throne hall had become deadly.

And upon the Serpent throne, Slyvarakh slowly rose to his feet, silver eyes burned with fury. The veins beneath his neck pulsed violently. His fingers clenched so tightly the armrest beneath his hand cracked.

CRACK.

Silence spread throughout the hall. Every noble lowered their heads. Every servant trembled. Every knight wished to be somewhere else.

Then Slyvarakh’s voice echoed, cold and deadly. "...Repeat what you just said."

The kneeling knight visibly shook, his entire body trembling, yet he forced himself to answer. "Y-Your Majesty...the Duke of Thalryn...refused the Imperial Summons."

Silence.

BOOOOOOOOM!!!

Slyvarakh’s aura exploded. The throne hall shook violently; several attendants immediately collapsed. The serpent nobles lowered their heads further because everyone knew. The Malik was furious.

Then Slyvarakh laughed, a short, dangerous laugh. The kind that always preceded bloodshed.

"...Refused, how amusing." Then suddenly his voice thundered throughout the throne hall.

"HOW DARE THAT MERE DUKE OF THE NORTH REFUSE THE EMPEROR’S LETTER?!"

The roar echoed against every wall; several attendants immediately fell to their knees. The knight’s face turned pale, and Slyvarakh descended from the throne. Each step carrying enough pressure to suffocate, then he stopped before the kneeling knight looking down upon him and everyone.

"Do they take me for a fool?"

Silence.

Nobody answered; nobody dared. Slyvarakh’s silver eyes darkened dangerously, then he clenched his fist and looked at the royal cloak billowing behind him like the wings of a serpent preparing to strike.

Then his voice echoed once more.

"Issue an order."

Immediately every scribe straightened, every knight listened, and every noble held their breath. Slyvarakh’s eyes became utterly merciless.

"If Duke Aren refuses to surrender himself...and refuses to return my consort..." The temperature within the throne hall seemed to drop. Then finally the Malik of Zahryssar delivered his decree.

"...We shall end Thalryn."

Silence, a horrible silence, and all the nobles went pale in fear, and now a storm was gathering.

Meanwhile, far away, Levin sat safely beside his children, completely unaware that another war had just begun moving toward his father and empire.