The Sanctuary's silence was almost sacred.
Even the ever-burning torches dimmed in reverence as Seraphine held her son tightly. His arms had grown longer, his frame more angular, yet he clung to her as if he were still the little boy who once feared shadows.
She touched his cheek, awestruck. "Caelum…"
His eyes—once bright amber—now shimmered like twilight, a mingling of gold and silver. Ancient. Gentle. Burdened.
Maika approached, halting mid-step when her gaze met Caelum's.
The moment their eyes locked, her breath hitched.
She felt it—a pull.
Not just magic, not just the bond of kin.
Something older.
"You've awakened… more than just your powers," Maika murmured.
"I didn't mean to," Caelum said, voice calm, far older than his years. "The forest called. The trial… it showed me who I was. Who I still might become."
Maika reached out and placed a trembling hand over his chest.
The seal—her own magic—was still intact.
And yet, he had pushed through it.
"This shouldn't be possible," she whispered, backing away, panic flashing in her eyes. "I sealed everything—vampire, lycan, witch. But I forgot…"
"Elven blood," Carlos's voice finished from behind.
They turned.
He leaned against the doorway, pale and weary, but watching Caelum with conflicted eyes.
"Alaric was the last son of the Elven royals. You can't cage something that was born wild. You only made the storm quieter… not gone."
Seraphine stood up, brushing her hair from her eyes, trying to ground herself. "What now? He's… changed. The energy inside him, it's—" she swallowed hard, "—it's too much for this world."
Caelum's gaze softened. "That's why I returned, Mother. I made a choice."
He opened his palm, revealing the silver leaf from the forest. The moment he did, the air changed.
Below the Sanctuary… something stirred.
A vibration echoed through the stone.
It was faint—but unmistakable.
The glass jars along the walls trembled. Dust fell from the ceiling. And deep beneath their feet, where Alaric's coffin lay bound in the protective circle, a heartbeat pulsed.
Ba-dump.
Seraphine froze.
Caelum turned his head slowly, eyes wide.
"Father…?"
The sound grew louder.
Ba-dump.
The red sigils etched on the stone lid flared to life, then cracked one by one, like breaking chains.
Seraphine staggered backward. "Alaric?!"
Carlos stepped forward, placing an arm in front of her protectively. " Dont rush, Lets wait."
Maika didn't move. Her eyes shimmered with tears. "He's was awakened by his son's power."
The final sigil shattered.
A hush fell.
Then, with the softest exhale of breath, the stone lid lifted—hovered—and gently slid aside.
From the shadows, a pale hand emerged.
Fingers twitched.
Eyes still closed, a figure slowly sat up—hair as dark as night, lashes casting shadows on regal cheekbones.
Alaric Vaelthorne… opened his eyes.
Silver. Radiant. Wounded.
He inhaled, as if tasting the world again.
And the first word from his lips was a whisper.
"...Seraphine."
Seraphine dropped to her knees, tears pouring, rose and walked to him, placing her trembling hand over his heart.
"Alaric," she breathed, her voice cracking.
In one stride, he was before her, his hands gently cradling her tear-streaked face. "You kept him safe," he whispered, his voice low, full of both wonder and grief. "I felt it… even in sleep. Your pain. Your love."
She broke into sobs, clutching his arms, burying herself against him. "I thought I'd lost you. I thought you'd never wake."
"I'm here now," he murmured, pressing his forehead to hers.
Seraphine stepped back, swallowing the knot in her throat.
Carlos appeared in the doorway, guiding a boy forward.
Caelum.
Dressed in black, his silver-blond hair tousled by the wind, the boy met Alaric's gaze with eyes identical to his own. Crimson. Powerful. Regal.
But behind that ancient soul was the heart of a child—hesitant, unsure, afraid.
Alaric's breath caught in his throat.
He knelt slowly.
"…Caelum?"
The boy tilted his head. "That's me."
"You've grown so much," Alaric whispered, his hand trembling as he reached out and touched his son's cheek. "Your presence… it feels like my father and my own soul bound into one."
"I—I don't remember meeting you," Caelum said. "But I dreamed of your voice."
Tears welled in Alaric's eyes for the first time in centuries. He cupped his son's face, pressing their foreheads together. "I'm proud of you, Caelum. I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner."
Carlos quietly stepped away, his chest heavy with unspoken emotion.
Lady Maika stood in the shadows, arms crossed but her gaze soft. Even she couldn't deny the sight before her—one of legend.
Father. Son.
Both born of light and shadow.
Both destined to change the world.
"Your blood… your powers…" Alaric muttered, sensing the sealed aura under Caelum's skin. "They sealed your bloodlines."
Seraphine nodded. "To keep him safe. From the prophecy. From Malrik"
"There's no more hiding," Alaric said, rising to his full height. "He already sense him. And he will come."
"Then what do we do?" Seraphine asked.
Alaric looked to the horizon where the red moon hung low, bleeding its light across the land.
"We prepare," he said. "Because the world will not be ready for what Caelum is becoming."
Just then, Caelum took his father's hand, small fingers curling around strong ones. "Will you stay?"
Alaric looked down, his expression softening.
"With every breath," he promised.
And as dawn broke over the sanctuary, the shadows of old enemies stirred in forgotten corners of the world. But for now—just for now—their broken family stood whole again.
Together.