Evelyn did not slow down. Not through the gates. Not through the narrow streets. Not even when the smell of death thickened the air and settled at the back of her throat like something alive.
She walked straight to the shore. The boat was there, just as Theon had said. Small, plain, and waiting. And on it was Maria.
Evelyn stopped. Just for a moment. Her breath caught halfway in her chest, like something inside her refused to move forward. Then she stepped in.
The wood creaked softly beneath her weight as she climbed aboard. The river moved gently beneath the boat, a slow, indifferent rhythm that did not care what it carried.
Evelyn's eyes found the body. And everything inside her broke. Tears came without permission. They slipped down her cheeks, silent, steady, unrestrained.
She moved closer. Each step felt heavier than the last. Then she dropped to her knees beside Maria. The dress was still there. The blood had dried into dark patches, stiff against the fabric. Her hands rested where they had last been placed.
Over her stomach, protecting her unborn child, even in death. Evelyn reached out. Then paused. Something felt wrong.
Not wrong in the way death always feels wrong. Not that heavy stillness, that quiet finality that leaves no doubt.
This was different. Her brows drew together slowly. She leaned closer. Her fingers hovered over Maria's arm before finally making contact.
Warm.
Evelyn froze. "No! This is impossible."
Her hand pressed more firmly this time. It was still warm. Her breath shortened. "It has been two days…" she whispered, almost to herself. Her eyes scanned the body again. No stiffness, no decay, no smell, nothing.
And then, her gaze dropped. She saw sweat on her forehead. Tiny beads of it, forming along Maria's skin. Fresh, and alive.
Evelyn jerked her hand back as if she had touched fire. "What is the meaning of this?" she murmured.
Her heart began to race. Not slowly, not gently, but violently. Something was wrong. Or maybe, something was not supposed to be happening.
Her eyes snapped toward the shore. Guards stood there, watching her. Not curious, not suspicious, just watching out of duty.
Her chest tightened. "I must leave," she whispered. "Now."
She moved quickly. Her hands grabbed the edge of the boat. With a sharp push, she forced it away from the shore. The wood scraped briefly against stone, then drifted free.
Evelyn climbed fully in, seized the paddle, and drove it into the water. Once, twice, and again. The boat began to move..The guards did not stop her. They did not question her. They simply stood there, eyes following her as she pulled away.
Then they became smaller, and smaller. Until Ashford itself began to fade behind her.
Hours passed. The rhythm of the paddle became everything.
Push, pull. Push, pull.
Her muscles burned. Her shoulders ached. Her palms began to tear against the wood. She did not stop. She could not..Every time her strength faltered, her eyes returned to the body behind her.
Warm, sweating. It was impossible. Her mind refused to settle. "The heart has stopped," she muttered under her breath. "The breath is gone."
Her voice cracked slightly. "She is dead." And yet, her grip tightened on the paddle. "And yet…" The words did not finish. They did not need to.
The sea grew restless as night began to fall. Waves rose higher, striking against the sides of the boat with more force. The wind picked up again, stronger now, sharper.
Evelyn braced herself. Then the waves shifted. Not against her, but in her favor. Each swell lifted the boat and carried it forward. Faster, farther. Like something beneath the water had decided she should not struggle alone.
Her breathing grew heavier, but the distance began to shrink. She could feel it. They were moving faster than they should. Faster than they had any right to.
Time blurred. The sky shifted from gold to dark, from dark to pale again. By the next day, the air had changed.
Colder, and sharper. The North was close.
Evelyn's arms trembled as she paddled, but she did not slow.
Then, A flutter: soft, barely there.
She turned, it was white doves. They descended from the sky without sound, their wings cutting gently through the air as they landed.
One, two, three. Then more.
They settled on the boat. Then on Maria.
Evelyn's breath caught. She lowered the paddle slowly. Watching with curiosity. The birds did not move.
They did not peck, tbey did not fear her..They simply stood there.
Still, and silent.
Then, another dove descended. This one was different. Its eyes were glowing blue. Not natural blue, but a sharp glowing blue.
Evelyn's body went rigid.
The bird landed directly on Maria's stomach.
Time slowed.
The boat rocked gently beneath them. The air held its breath. Then the dove lowered its head. And touched Maria's stomach with its beak.
The reaction was immediate.
The stomach twisted violently. Like something inside had forced itself against the skin from within.
Evelyn gasped. Her hands flew to her mouth. The doves lifted at once. All of them. They rose into the sky in a sudden burst of white wings, vanishing as quickly as they had come. Leaving silence behind. The stomach moved again.
Evelyn stared. "No…" Her voice trembled. Another movement. Clear, and undeniable. Her knees shifted beneath her as she crawled closer.
"It's not…" Her breath shook. "It's not possible…" The movement came again.
Stronger, and alive.
Evelyn's eyes widened. Then it hit her. Not slowly, not gently, but like a strike to the chest. "The fetus…" Her voice broke. "…is alive."
Everything changed. Her body moved before her mind could catch up. She grabbed the paddle again. Hard, aggressive, and driven.
Each stroke cut through the water with urgency now. Not survival, but Rescue.
The shore began to form in the distance. Closer, and closer. Her arms screamed, but she did not stop. She would not.
Within hours, the boat struck land. Evelyn leapt out before it settled. Her legs nearly gave way beneath her, but she forced herself forward.
She dragged the body out carefully, and desperately. She placed her ears on her chest again. But the heart remained dead. Yet the stomach kept twisting.
Her hands moved to Maria's stomach. There was no time, no hesitation.
She pressed, pushed, and tore. Blood returned.
Warm, fresh, and alive. Her breath came in sharp bursts as she worked.
Then, a cry. Small, sharp, and piercing. The sound cut through the air like lightning.
Evelyn froze, then looked down. The child was alive, and crying. Her hands trembled as she lifted him. Blood covered him, and covered her. But he lived. "How…" she whispered. Her voice barely held. "How is this possible…"
Her eyes lifted briefly. To the sky, to nothing. Then back to the child. "This is the work of the gods."
Behind her, Maria's body changed.
Evelyn turned slowly to see it. The warmth was gone. The skin had cooled. The body became drained of colour completely.
Evelyn let out a breath that sounded almost like a laugh. Soft, and broken. "This child…" She looked down at him again. "…is not ordinary. He is special."
She moved quickly after that, and gathered wood. Then she stacked it inside the boat.
Carefully, and purposefully. Then she laid Maria upon it. Straight, and at peace.
Evelyn leaned down, then pressed her lips gently to her forehead. "I will take your child home," she whispered. Her voice steadied. "I will keep him safe."
She pause, and drew in a long breath. "I promise."
She lit the fire. The flames caught slowly at first, then grew. Climbing, and consuming.
Evelyn pushed the boat back into the water. It drifted. Burning, and breaking.
The river carried it away. Piece by piece, until it became nothing but light on water.
Then even that faded. "Goodbye, Maria." Evelyn whispered.
Evelyn turned. The child rested in her arms. Small, warm, and alive. She held him closer, and studied his face. Then spoke. "I name you after your father."
A pause.
Soft, and certain. "Drexo Dragaria." The wind moved around her again. But this time, It did not feel cold, because the dove and the dragon were united in one body.