The midday sun filtered through the sacred canopy as Garlan stood alone at the edge of the stone cliff, eyes fixed on the horizon. The warm wind carried the scents of sap and blossoms… yet in his chest, the storm raged.

  He had to leave.

  He had to find his mother. It was an undeniable truth, a visceral calling, a necessity if he was to understand who he was—and how to become what his children would one day need. A father. A real one.

  But how could he leave… when the woman he loved already carried their future?

  “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  Marenna’s voice, soft but firm, pulled him out of his thoughts. She had approached without a sound, watching him for some time. Her belly was only barely rounded, yet already brimming with mana so dense one could almost feel two hearts beating within.

  “No,” he admitted without turning. “Not sure at all.”

  She sat beside him. For a moment, they stayed in silence.

  “I’m afraid, Marenna. Afraid something will happen to me… afraid something will happen to you. Afraid I’ll miss something vital. Afraid you’ll give birth without me. Afraid I won’t be there to hold your hand.”

  “And afraid you’ll never know where you come from,” she whispered.

  He nodded slowly.

  “If I don’t find her now, I know I’ll regret it. But leaving you here, pregnant, not knowing when or how it will happen… it’s tearing me apart.”

  Suddenly, his eyes lit with an idea.

  “I know. I’ll go see the Primordial of Wind. He must have some way to teach me instant teleportation to a person… something like that. That way, if anything goes wrong, I can be back in a breath.”

  Marenna rested her head on his shoulder.

  “Then let’s do it properly. Prepare your departure, but without panic. We’ll weave a magical link. If something happens, you’ll know. And Virellia will stay by my side. You’re not abandoning me. You’re leaving to become better.”

  He squeezed her hand tightly.

  “And if ever—”

  “Then you’ll come back. And if you can’t… I’ll come find you. Wherever you are.”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  A nervous laugh slipped from him. He pressed his lips to Marenna’s forehead.

  “I love you.”

  “I know. Go find her, Garlan. Find her… and come back whole.”

  At sunrise, they walked together to the cliff’s edge. Not a word was spoken. The morning wind barely lifted Marenna’s hair. Garlan stopped, laid one hand on her belly, the other on her cheek. She smiled without speaking. And he left. The wind carried that silence like a promise.

  The next day, Garlan reached the summit, cloak streaming in the wind, heading toward the Palace of Wind. The sky there was in constant motion—spirals of pure air, singing currents, overlooking a land that seemed almost unreal.

  Kazuhan, the Primordial of Wind, was already waiting at the center of the great floating dome.

  “You didn’t come back to learn how to fly, I take it,” he growled, sensing the turmoil inside the young dragon.

  “No,” Garlan answered. “I need a way to teleport instantly. To a person. Marenna. My children. If something happens to them, I have to return without delay.”

  Kazuhan narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms.

  “In your current state, you’re incapable of such a feat. But there is another path: a mana anchor. A unique, sacred bond. Usable only once.”

  Garlan frowned.

  “An anchor?”

  “It’s no simple spell. It’s not about blending your flows. You must give up a part of yourself. Fix it. Offer it. And she must do the same. That fragment of essence, preserved intact, will allow each of you to reach the other—even from the farthest corner of the world.”

  Garlan stood silent, stunned.

  “And… how do you do that?”

  Kazuhan tilted his head slightly.

  “A shared meditation. Slow. Conscious. You bind yourselves not through combat or raw magic, but through pure intent. Each of you must materialize a portion of your mana, stable and clear, untouched by interference. Then you exchange it.”

  Garlan nodded, but Kazuhan immediately added:

  “In your case, it won’t be simple. The two embryos already disrupt your respective flows. Harmony will be unstable, attempts rejected… likely more than once.”

  And indeed, that was the case.

  Back at the sanctuary, Garlan and Marenna sat cross-legged, back to back, hands pressed against the ground. Virellia encircled them with a ring of mana-blooms, then withdrew to leave them to their attempt.

  The first meditation failed. Marenna’s flow, amplified by the twins, pushed Garlan’s essence away like a capricious sea.

  The second tried to merge too fast, too forcefully. Discordant pulses made the earth tremble beneath them. They stopped, exhausted.

  A long silence followed. Then Marenna opened her eyes again, frowning, as if struck by a sudden truth.

  “Wait… what if the anchor is already inside me?”

  Garlan looked at her, startled.

  “What?”

  “Yes—our children… they’re pieces of you inside me. Two pieces, even. Maybe that’s why it’s not working—because there’s already a form of anchoring active between us.”

  Garlan blinked, stunned.

  “Well… yeah. That actually makes sense. Perfect sense.”

  A soft breeze stirred the clearing. From a distance, Virellia allowed herself the faintest smile.

  “This is why I said nothing. Some bonds can only be created once they are first recognized.”