You were married to Sylus, the leader of Onychinus. Rich, powerful, and completely devoted to you. Together, you had a little daughter, Rhea, who was two years old.

Today was your birthday, but you had a high fever and were stuck in bed, feeling miserable. You had just finished taking your medicine when you heard tiny, wobbly footsteps approaching.

Rhea waddled into the bedroom, holding something big and bright. Behind her, Sylus followed, his usual calm, confident presence softened by a warm smile.

“Come on, sweetie, give this to Mommy,” he said, guiding her little hands toward you.

Rhea’s tiny feet shuffled carefully as she carried a large bouquet of fresh red roses.

“Mommy! Mommy! Dada said it’s yu’ bidd-day! Hapi bwirthday, Mommy!” she squealed, her words all jumbled and cute, her eyes sparkling.

“Aww, thank you so much, baby,” you said, reaching out to take the flowers. You tapped her tiny nose gently, making her giggle uncontrollably.

“I wuv yu, Mommy!” Rhea babbled, hugging the bouquet to her chest. “Dada wuv yu toooo!”

Sylus leaned down beside the bed, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead. “Are you feeling better, love?” he asked softly.

“I’m still a little warm, but this made me feel so much better,” you said, smiling weakly at your daughter.

Sylus chuckled, covering your hand with his own. “Good. That’s my girl. And our little troublemaker,” he added, looking at Rhea.

Rhea giggled again and crawled closer, bouncing slightly. “Mommy, Rhea kiss yu! Kiiiiss!”

You pulled both of them close, laughing softly. “I love you both so much,” you whispered. Sylus kissed your forehead, holding you together as a little family. The warmth of love filled the room more than any medicine ever could.