Edric swallowed his protests and nodded, mindful of the worry etched on both women’s faces. His entire body still thrummed with new energy, a coiled vigor that seemed to demand movement, yet he forced himself to lie back against the pillows. Ashara and Allyria exged relieved looks, then moved about the room, arranging cushions and calling softly to a servant in the corridor t fresh bread and broth.

  The chamber fell into a panionable hush, broken only by the faint rustle of skirts and the soft crackle of a newly lit dle. Edric took the moment to observe his surroundings with the heightened sehat had sharpened even further since his merger of gifts. The heavy drapes were drawn back just enough to let in a slender beam of pale daylight, illuminating the motes of dust dang in the air. A tapestry on the wall—one he’d seen tless times—seemed suddenly more vivid, each thread woven intht patterns that he could pick out in startliail. Even the grain of the wooden floor felt distinct beh his bare feet when he shifted, as though his entire world had gained a keener edge.

  He caught subtle aromas drifting in from the gardens below—jasmine and e blossoms, mingled with the briny tang of the Summer Sea just beyond Starfall’s walls. Farther away, he detected the faint whiff of heated metal from the smithy. The castle worked in its usual rhythms: a guard ging watch by the gates, a servant d scurrying to the kit, a pair of grooms leading horses out to graze. Over the st two years, he had grown aced to hearing more than most boys could, but now the chorus of distant sounds was like a symphony he could not shut out.

  He took a slow breath, striving for calm. Even in this moment of rest, he felt coiled like a b. The thirst for movement, for testing the limits of his reborn body, g him. But the look on Ashara’s face—equal parts relief and fear—had a power to still him more effectively than any master-at-arms. She had lost so much already; he could not bear to add more worry to her burdens.

  A soft kno the chamber door drew his attention. A young serving girl stepped in, bang a wooden tray with bowls of broth, slices of bread, and a small pot of honey. She averted her eyes shyly, giving Edrily a quice. Perhaps she felt uneasy at the stories cirg among the servants—straales of bck tar, feverish transformations, and a child who looked far older than his seven namedays. Edric smiled in thanks, careful not to make any sudden movements that might startle her. She murmured something inaudible ahe tray on a table he bed before slipping out again.

  Ashara dled up some of the broth and handed him a steaming bowl. He lifted the spoon to his lips, and a surprising swirl of fvors met his tongue—chi, leeks, thyme, all somehow more potent than he remembered. His new senses could detect eagredient distinctly, and although he had no real appetite, he forced himself to take spoonful after spoonful. Allyria broke a piece of bread and offered it to him, her hand still trembling slightly, as though she half-feared this was all a dream that might shatter if she blioo hard.

  He g her, remembering the nights she nursed him through his earlier fevers, humming lulbies to quiet his restlessness. Though not his true mother, her love had been real enough to fill whatever emptiness Ashara’s necessary distance created. In time, Edric had grown to love them both equally, though in different ways. He saw how exhausted she looked now—the lines of her face deeper from three nights of little sleep—and it stirred a pang of guilt in him. The tension in the room hadn’t fully dispersed, but the warmth of their shared love offered some fragile peace.

  When he fihe bowl, Ashara touched the back of his hand. “Enough,” she said in a tohat brooked nument. “If you push yourself too far now, you’ll only cause more worry.” Then, softer: “Please, lie down.”

  He plied, the exhaustion he’d been ign slowly creeping into his limbs. Even if his newly enhanced body didn’t demand immediate rest, he reized that Ashara and Allyria he reassurance of seeing him safe and still. He let his head sink into the pillows, though his mind darted from thought to thought like a restless sparrow.

  He worried about how they would expin his transformation to the rest of the castle. For the time being, the only ones who knew besides the servants—whose gossip would remain half-formed rumor—were Maester Arron, Lady Ashara, and Lady Allyria. Ser Daemon, the master-at-arms, would surely notice Edriew physique the insta foot in the practice yard. His uncle Allem too would have to be told some version of the truth. Though Allem had guarded the secret of Edric’s parentage all these years, this sudden, undeniable ge might test even his loyalty.

  Yet Edrised that Ashara had a pn, or at least the outlines of one. She had always been unwavering in her desire to protect him from the world’s maations—even at the cost of her oiness. He could see the gears turning behind her violet eyes, as she weighed possibilities, calcuted risks. Perhaps they would cim the bck substance was the result of a mystical fever, some rare mady reag with old Dornish remedies. Or maybe they would rely on talk of the gods’ interventioing rumor and reverence fill in the gaps. Dorolerance for the exotic might make such a tale easier to swallow.

  Exhaling slowly, Edrik into a twilight state: not quite asleep, not fully awake. His thoughts turned inward, to the powers roilih his skin. The merging of physical gifts was plete, yet he still sensed an undercurrent of potential waiting to be tapped. It felt like an echo of the same voice that had urged him to bine fme creation and manipution. There might be other routes of synergy—other surprising unions of ability. The notion both thrilled and uled him; he would have to be more cautious ime, lest the process overwhelm him again.

  At length, he drifted into a doze, lulled by the soft versatioween Ashara and Allyria. They spoke in hushed voices, as though loath to disturb him. He caught fragments:

  “—he’s grown so much—” “—we must protect him from—” “—Gerold might hear—” “—not yet, not until—”

  He wao reassure them, to say he could protect himself now, but he let sleep cim him fully.

  When Edric awoke again, a warm glow filled the chamber, indig mid-afternoon. The broth had been repced by a ptter of fruit and a pitcher of watered wine. Someone must have e in without waking him. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, feeling a moment of disorientation as his hand brushed against new tours in his shoulders and arms. The physical ges remaiartling, though less alien now.

  He rose gingerly, testing his bahe world did not spin, and his strength felt unwavering, but caution prevailed. He moved to the windoeered down at the castle wards. Below, a few horses ambled on packed dirt, stable boys hurrying to catch them. Beyond the walls stretched the Summer Sea, vast and glittering, its waves rolling in a steady rhythm. How small the castle appeared from his vantage, a how integral each piece was to his life: every tower, every parapet, every courtyard where he had oruggled with a wooden sword. He felt a pang of longing to return to training, but recalled Ashara’s admonition. For her sake, he would wait—at least for a day.

  A gentle creak behind him made him turn. Allyria stood at the threshold, carrying a small bundle of clothes. Her gaze lingered on his frame, the differeoo stark to ignore, but she offered him a kind smile. “How do you feel?” she asked quietly.

  “Better,” Edric replied, though ‘better’ felt ie for ulsed through him. “Stronger.”

  She held out the clothes. “We asked one of the servants to find something—slightly rger. Your old tunics won’t fit anymore.” A faint waver in her voice betrayed lingering unease. “It’s the best we could do on short notice.”

  “Thank you.” He accepted the garments, letting her see how steady his hands were. “Where is Ashara?”

  “She’s in the sor, writing a letter. Likely to your uncle Allem.” Allyria paused, folds of her gown rustling in the silence. “She’s deg how best to tell him what... happened.”

  Hesitating, Edric lowered his gaze. “Do either of you resent me for keepis? For lying about my training, about—”

  “No,” Allyria said, cutting him off gently. “We’re your mothers. If anything, we regret that you felt you couldn’t fide in us. But we uand—truly. This realm has never been kind to... plicated births.”

  She approached him, resting a hand lightly on his elbow, as though uain herself how much affe he might wele now that all their truths had been id bare. “Just promise us that, iure, you’ll e to us before doing anything that might risk your life.”

  “I promise,” he said, feeling the siy resonate in his chest. The memory of those st moments before he lost sciousness—searing pain, the sense of his body being torn and remade—reminded him how thin the line could be between harnessing power and being ed by it.

  Allyria pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, then moved to the door. “I’ll give you a moment to dress. Then, if you feel up to it, join us in the sor. Ashara may not admit it, but I’m sure she wants to see you up and about, proving your health isn’t just a show of bravado.”

  Edriodded, waiting until she left to step behind the chamber’s modest wooden partition. The clothes were indeed rger: a loose tunic of dusty blue linen and breeches of brown wool, plus a leather belt with a buckle shaped like a star. He teetered between amusement and mencholy at how swiftly he’d outgrowrappings of childhood—figuratively and literally. How many more ges his powers bestow upon him, and at what cost?

  He emerged from behind the partition and made his way down the corridor, each step feeling like a minor test of his self-trol. He had to remember to move at a normal pace, to keep from revealing that he could easily sprint the hallway without breaking a sweat. Servants bustled about, preparing the te afternoon meal, and he caught ss of their chatter. He heard mention of him—“the Dayne bastard”—but not in tones of disgust, more curiosity and trepidation. Rumors of the bck tar had spread, and while they did not meet his eyes, he sensed no ht hostility. Dorne was not as harsh to bastards as other realms, but wariness was natural when talk of unnatural events flitted about.

  When Edric reached the sor, he found Ashara at a writing desk by the window. The warm sunlight set her dark hair abze with mahogany hues, and Edric realized anew how beautiful she was, even drawn by worry. A half-writteer y in front of her, her quill poised above the part. She looked up as he entered and gave him a small smile.

  “Feeling well enough to walk, then?” she asked, though there was a note of relief in her voice.

  “Well enough,” he firmed, stepping closer. His gaze flicked over the letter; he could make out a salutation in Ashara’s careful script, but most of the text was still unwritten.

  She noticed his gnce. “I’m trying to put this into words for your uncle,” she said, setting the quill aside for a moment. “I want him to know the truth... or most of it. But how does one expin the impossible?”

  “We keep it simple,” Edric offered softly. “Uncle Allem already knows I’m Brandon Stark’s son. Perhaps we say the fever returned, and the gods intervehat it was the will of the Seven—or perhaps the old gods. Dorne might be more tolerant of such matters than the rest of Westeros.”

  Her lips curved in a sad smile. “Is that what you think will suffice?”

  “He trusts you,” Edric said. “And he’s seen what I could do before—he’s seen me recover from injuries, run faster than any boy my age. This will be startling, but irely out of the blue for him. Give him the same story we told ourselves: that the gods tested me with visions and judged me worthy, grantihe strength to meet whatever destiny they have in store.”

  Ashara let out a faint sigh. “We’ll phrase it carefully. I don’t want his respoo be only worry and arm.” She studied him then, her gaze lingering on the lines of his face. “Your features... they’re so much like Brandon’s now. More than ever.”

  Edric felt heat rise in his cheeks. He recalled the stories of Brandon Stark—reckless, fiery, charismatic. But he was also dead, along with so many others who tried to stand against the Mad King. “I’m still me,” he said softly.

  “I know.” She reached across the desk and took his hand, squeezily. “And no matter what you choose to call me—Lady Ashara or Mother—I will do my utmost to protect you from those who might exploit what you’ve bee.”

  He squeezed back. “You won’t have to do it alone,” he replied. “I’m not helpless anymore.”

  Her eyes shoh uears, but her smile held a quiet pride. “I know.”

  They stayed like that for a time, hand in hand, until the fading sunlight remihem that evening would e soon and more practical matters dematention. Allyria entered, carrying a tray of small pastries and fresh water, and the three of them shared a subdued meal, exging gnces rather than stant words. The fortress beyond the sor walls tis daily life: courtiers, guards, and servants moving like pieces on a board, unaware of the momentous shift that had taken pce behind closed doors.

  Eventually, Ashara dabbed her mouth with a napkin auro the letter, penning the final lines in deliberate strokes. Edric watched her, refleg on how the ink might ge the course of his life once more. A single rave across the desert hills and stony passes, carrying a half-truth that would bind Allem into aighter circle of secrecy.

  When she finished, she sprinkled sand over the ink to dry it, then folded the part and sealed it with the wax bearing the sigil of House Dayne—a shooting star crossing a pale field. She did not address him while doing so, but Edrised her determinatiohe subtle tension i of her jaw. Whatever fears she might harbor, she would not let them paralyze her. He felt a stirring of gratitude for that resolute spirit—one more trait, he realized, that she must have shared with Brandon Stark.

  “Tomorrow,” she said at st, pg the sealed letter aside. “We’ll see how you feel, and perhaps we’ll speak with Ser Daemon. But for tonight, let’s not court any more risks.”

  Edriodded, a small bubble of relief rising in his chest. Though part of him yearo test his newfound strength in the practice yard, to see exactly how far he could push himself, he uood the wisdom in caution. If he appeared at full readioo soon, the entire castle would talk. He still ime to refine his story, to ehe rumors cirg matched what Ashara and Allyria po say.

  Night drew closer, the darkening sky visible through the arched windows. Allyria took the letter to deliver it to a waiting raven, and Ashara gathered the dishes onto a tray. Edric found a seat he window and gazed out at the courtyard. A few torches had been lit, flickering e iwilight. He remembered older times when he would le into bed, drifting off to the lulby of waves. But that lingering energy still coursed in his veins, making him wonder if sleep would e easily—or at all.

  He turned back to see Ashara standing behind him. Her eyes glimmered with aion he couldn’t quite name—some blend of motherly tenderness, sorrow for her lost love, and fierce protectiveness for the child she risked everything to save. She set a haly on his shoulder. “Rest if you ,” she said. “Tomorrow, we’ll decide how best to move forward, all of us.”

  He covered her hand with his own. “Thank you,” he whispered.

  “For what?”

  “For everything.” He hesitated, searg for words. “For trustio some degree—even after I hid so much. For loving me despite all the secrets.”

  Ashara’s lips curved in that same sad, proud smile. “You are my son, Edric. Have no doubt of that.”

  They shared a brief embrace, and thereated, leaving him aloh the gentle hush of the gathering night. As the st vestiges of daylight fled the sky, Edric leaned his head against the window’s sill and closed his eyes. Beh his eyelids, he saw fshes of the visions he’d described—thts, mad kings, ice walls, and burning ruins. Yet in the ter of those swirling images was Starfall, a bea of pale stone against the desert twilight, and two women who loved him enough to weave aire life of secrecy.

  He was, after all, a reinatht into this world from another life, bearing powers that had e from some unknown wish. He did not fully uand how or why this had happened, only that these strange abilities now coursed through his veins. Upon waking in his new body for the first time, he could barely sehe extent of his newfound power, much less trol it. Perhaps whoever had granted him these gifts had chosen him because of his dual heritage, or perhaps simply because he yearo protect those he loved. Either way, he resolved in that quiet moment to master these powers, to uand the deeper currents shaping him. If he was to be a pie the game, then he would learn to py it on his own terms—not as a pawn, but as someone capable of f his owiny.

  Exhaustion no longer cimed him as easily. After his brief rest, he woke to find that his e to this body had grown stronger—his senses now bent to his will with surprising ease. It seemed that with eaent of sleep, eaent of repose, some piece of him knitted more firmly to this franting him an ever-growing mastery over fatigue and awareness alike. Wheruly wished to sleep, he did so effortlessly, pulling himself into rest with a single gehought. And every time he woke, he felt that subtle progress tinue, as if these abilities had not yet reached their full potential.

  Satisfied by this evolving trol, Edrially pushed away from the window and y down on the soft coverlets. Outside, the waves of the Summer Sea pounded against Starfall’s rocky foundations, a timeless lulby older than any mortal scheme. Edric listeo their rhythm, matg it to the pulses of his ow, until at st his mind drifted into a deep, deliberate slumber. And so the day ended—a day that began with unimaginable pain ah, and cluded in quiet acceptander a darkening sky. What y ahead remained uain, but for now he was safe, loved, and for better or worse, irrevocably ged.

  Author's Note:

  Thank you all ! I really appreciate your feedback—whether it's about what you enjoyed or any issues you had.

  I wao take a moment to talk about this chapter. I know that some people don’t enjoy emotional moments or slower-paced chapters, but I felt this one was necessary for the story. Just a heads-up—the wo chapters will also be a bit on the slower side, so I hope you'll bear with me if that’s not your thing.

  As always, feel free to ent on what you liked, any s you have, or anything you'd love to see iory!

  Also, I’m still pretty o writing, so I might have made mistakes in portrayiions. If I did, I apologize, and I’ll keep w to improve.

  Thanks for reading! ??