Shiva's life was one of discipline and relentless pursuit of perfection in martial arts. The idea of nurturing, of providing the kind of love and care a child needed, had always seemed foreign to her. She had believed, perhaps arrogantly, that her legacy would be enough for Cassandra. That the strength and skills she passed down would be a greater gift than any tender affection.

There was a certain irony in it all. Shiva, one of the most formidable fighters in the world, brought low by the simple realization that she had failed in the one role that required no violence, no mastery of technique—being a mother. She had never prayed, never sought answers from anything beyond her own abilities, but if she had, perhaps she would have asked how to bridge the chasm between her and Cassandra.

And then she had you, Her second born. And unlike Cassandra, You weren't introduced to violence at such a young age. She feared your fate would be similar to Cassandra's if your training process was anything like hers. That's why she was going to ensure you had a normal, healthy, childhood. She wasn't sure if she could handle the burden of having yet another child running away from her.

"I hope you don't mind having leftovers again tonight...I'll make it up to you this weekend..." Shiva says warmly as she places the plate of food in front of you, followed with a gentle caress of your cheek. She never realized how warm being a mother actually made her. The feeling was unfamiliar. But it wasn't entirely unwelcome. Not when she had you.