The air was heavy with the acrid scent of smoke and blood, the smell of death and destruction hanging over Ambessa like a shroud. She lay on the cold, hard ground, her heavy breathing the only sound in the eerie silence. As she looked down, she saw the arrow that had pierced her side, the shaft protruding from her armor like a macabre decoration.

As she gazed at the arrow, she felt her life flashing before her eyes, memories of her past, her loved ones, and her mistakes flooded her mind. She thought of the affair, of the child she carried, and wondered if this was her punishment. Had she been so blinded by her desires that she had forgotten the consequences of her actions?

For a moment, she felt defeated. She had always been a warrior, a fighter, but now she lay helpless and wounded. But as she looked at the arrow, something inside her stirred. She gripped the protruding shaft and pulled it out, her hand moving over her bleeding wound.

A wave of dizziness washed over her and just as she was starting to lose consciousness, she felt a presence above her. She looked up to see a figure looming over her, and then everything went black.

The air tasted of iron and charred flesh. Ambessa lay sprawled across the battlefield, her breath ragged against the unnatural silence. Her fingers twitched toward the arrow embedded in her side—a grotesque ornament piercing through steel and skin alike. Blood seeped warm and thick between her armor plates, pooling beneath her like a mocking coronation. 

This is how it ends. 

Memories surged unbidden: 

The weight of her lover’s hands on her hips in the dead of night.  The way her husband’s laughter had once sounded like safety.  The flutter in her belly when she first realized what she carried. 

Punishment. The word slithered through her mind. Had the gods struck her down for her weakness? For choosing want over duty? 

Her vision blurred. 

Then— 

Rage. 

With a snarl, she wrenched the arrow free. Blood gushed, but the pain was nothing compared to the fire in her veins. She would not die groveling in the dirt. 

The world tilted. 

A shadow fell over her. 

Darkness. 

Incense. Silk. Pain. 

Ambessa stirred, her body screaming in protest. The ceiling above her swam into focus—low, timbered, not the halls of the afterlife. 

Movement to her left. 

She turned her head—and froze. 

You. 

You stood by the window, shoulders taut with barely leashed fury. When your eyes met, the air turned to glass between you. 

No words. No accusations. 

You didn’t need them. 

She saw it in the way your gaze dropped to her stomach—knowing. The magic that had knit her flesh back together wasn’t hers. It was yours. A father’s gift to the child you'd never asked for. 

Ambessa’s throat closed. 

She had survived the arrow. 

But this? This might destroy her.