The wind swept quietly across the island. The sky was pale gold and the sea breathed like a sleeping giant. On the rooftop, where gods often go to think, Mirshad sat alone. His eyes fixed on the horizon while his mind drifted in echoes he couldn't name. He wasn't searching for enemies, he wasn't planning missions, he wasn't hearing the voice of power. He was simply quiet. Then, from inside the house, a sound broke the stillness — soft, sudden, human.
Sophia bolted from the main hall, one hand pressed over her mouth. She barely made it to the hallway bathroom before the door slammed shut behind her and the sound of vomiting echoed off the marble walls. A doctor rushed after her, and moments later Amir and Sara came from the kitchen. "Sophia?" Amir called, but the doctor raised a hand to stop him. "She's alright. Morning sickness. It's normal at this stage." Sophia leaned against the wall, pale but smiling faintly. "He still hasn't said anything to me," she murmured. Sara took her hand gently. "Give him time. He's healing… in a different way."
That evening, Mirshad walked slowly through the hallway. No sword. No boots. Just him. From a room ahead came the sound of her voice — soft laughter, followed by a cough, then silence. He stopped by the door, unseen. Her voice came again, low, as if speaking to herself. "It's okay, little one's. Even if he's lost right now… I'll be here. I'll be strong enough for all of us." He stood frozen. His heart didn't pound — it broke, in the quietest and most beautiful way.
He stepped inside. She looked up in surprise, but he said nothing at first. He sat beside her slowly, carefully, then placed his hand gently over hers, the one resting on her belly. After a long moment, his voice came low. "I'm sorry." Her eyes searched his face. "I was walking through stars… through storms I still don't understand. But you… you were walking through this alone. I was chasing truth. But the truth I needed… was right here. Growing." She said nothing, only lifted his hand and placed it flat over her stomach. His eyes closed. There was no movement, no sound, only warmth — and in that warmth, something inside him shifted forever.
Later that night, the family saw him walk out of her room. No sword. No storm. Just him. Rayyan stood and asked quietly, "You alright?" Mirshad nodded once. "Not as a warrior. But as a man… I just found my reason." And for the first time since his return, he smiled. It wasn't the pyramids. It wasn't the lightning. It wasn't the sword. It was her, and the life growing inside her, that finally brought him home.