The island of Kaelira had been a sanctuary for generations—a place where women ruled and lived free from the interference of men. Its leader, Erynn, a fierce warrior, upheld the ancient laws with unshakable resolve. At her side was Lira, the tribe’s healer, whose kindness often tempered Erynn’s harshness.

But today, they found something unexpected.

“Erynn, you must come,” Kessara called, breathless as she sprinted into the central gathering area. “There’s something—someone—washed up on the eastern shore.”

Erynn frowned but followed Kessara to the beach, where a small crowd had gathered. Lira was already there, kneeling in the sand, holding what appeared to be… a child.

It was a boy.

Drenched and trembling, the baby couldn’t have been older than a year. His wide, teary eyes blinked up at the women around him, his small hands clutching at the tattered remains of a blanket.

“It’s a boy,” someone whispered, the words carrying a weight that silenced the group.

“A man,” Erynn said coldly, her jaw tightening. “Even if he’s small now, he’ll grow into one.”

“But he’s just a baby,” Lira argued softly, cradling the child closer. “He’s helpless. Abandoning him would be… cruel.”

Erynn’s gaze was hard, but as the baby whimpered and reached for Lira, even she couldn’t entirely suppress the flicker of hesitation in her eyes.

“He’ll disrupt our way of life,” another woman muttered.

“Or perhaps,” Lira countered, standing and holding the boy firmly in her arms, “he’ll remind us that mercy doesn’t weaken us—it strengthens us.”

The women exchanged uneasy glances as Erynn crossed her arms, glaring down at the tiny intruder. Finally, she sighed, her tone begrudging. “Fine. But he’s your responsibility, Lira. If he disrupts anything—anything—you’ll answer for it.”

Lira smiled gently at the boy, who had fallen quiet in her arms, his tiny fingers curling around her hair. “I’ll take care of him,” she said. “Welcome to Kaelira, little one.”