<b>CHAPTER </b><b>100 </b>
The ache from training still hummed beneath Saphira’s skin, a low, persistent throb that reminded her how far she’d pushed. Her damp braid clung to her neck, trailing thest remnants of exertion as she stepped into the office beside Niks. The scent of Zafira’s herbal tea–something sharp and earthy-
-rose to meet her like a familiar anchor. Focus. Preparation. Control.
The room itself mirrored that energy. Papers wereyered meticulously across the central table, corners aligned with the kind of precision only Zafira could wield. Maps glowed under the soft amber cast of overhead lighting, all roads and territories drawn in ink and intent.
Zafira didn’t look up immediately–her pen moved one final stroke before she nced toward them, her posture straight, her fingers still curled loosely in concentration. “Any word yet?” Saphira asked, her voice steady but alert, a flicker of concern tucked into her brow.
Zafira shook her head, brushing her hair off her shoulder in one smooth motion as she sat back. “Nothing so far,” she said quietly. “It’s still early. Not even a full twenty–four hours.”
Across the table, Anastasia leaned forward, her legs crossed with measured elegance, eyes scanning the edges of the map. “Then we keep steady,” she said, tone clipped. “Carry on until we know more.”
Niks remained standing behind Saphira, his arms folded loosely as his eyes skimmed the map’s top sheet. She could feel his thoughts unfolding before he even spoke–his silence a sign that his mind was already three moves ahead.
A knock at the door sliced clean through the moment. Jasper entered, his steps firm, presence grounded. His gaze met Zafira’s with familiar intent, and he tipped his head, barely smiling. “You ready for a couple hours of training?”
Zafira stood in one seamless motion, her papers gathered with practiced ease. “Perfect timing,” she said, slipping her pen into the stack and tapping it once -her signal of transition. She gave Saphira a quick nod. “Anastasia will catch you up.”
Saphira dipped her chin in agreement, her fingertips already grazing the edge of the nearest map. “See you soon.”
The door closed behind them with a soft click, and for a moment, the room folded into quiet again–a held breath waiting to shitt.
Then came Finn’s entrance–broad–shouldered, his energy unmistakable. Amara followed closely behind, her stride light but her gaze shadowed with tension. The moment she entered, Saphira felt the shift–real talk, real strategy.
Finn crossed the room, exchanging a nce with Niks that spoke volumes. “We’ve got time and ideas,” he said, pping one hand against his thigh. “Want to dive into species specifics? Strength tiers?”
Niks pushed away from the map disy, his expression sharpening, “Absolutely.”
Amara settled next to Saphira with a soft sigh, her fingers curling around the edge of the table as if bracing herself. Her shoulders dipped slightly, exhaustion tucked into the crease of her posture.
“How’s training?” she asked, nudging Saphira’s arm gently with a tired smirk.
“Hard,” Saphira replied, her smile curling. “But good. He didn’t hold back.”
Amara chuckled, brushing a curl back behind her ear. “Figures.”
“How are you doing?” Saphira asked, shifting slightly to better meet Amara’s eyes.
Amara hesitated, her voice softening. “I’m okay. Nervous, though.”
Saphira reached out, letting her fingers wrap gently around Amara’s. “Me too,” she said, her tone warmer. “But we’re not walking into this alone.”
Anastasia looked up from her notes then, her gaze unreadable, her tone even. “We’re all holding our breath. But we’ll exhale when we strike.”
Saphira felt the air press between them, thick but steady.
Niks stepped closer, brushing a kiss to her temple, his hand trailing briefly along her lower back–a touch that grounded her again. “I’ll be just down the hall,” he said, then he leaned in, lips near her ear, and murmured, “Don’t want to distract you too much.”
Sheughed softly, leaning into the teasing. “You tell yourself that,” she said, winking.
And with that, he turned, leaving with Finn and Amara, the door closing behind them.
The room dimmed slightly in their absence, But this quiet? It wasn’t weight. It was intention.
Saphira turned to Anastasia, her spine straightening as her gaze fell to the maps again. Her pulse steadied–not from rest, but from resolve.
The quiet in the room wrapped around Saphira and Anastasia like soft fabric–a rare moment without voices darting between strategy and urgency. Saphira shifted her weight, ready to lean toward the map spread across the desk, but Anastasia spoke first, her voice quiet but certain.
“How are you?” she asked, hands still resting on the table, her fingers brushing the rim of her notebook. “We haven’t had time, not properly. Not just us.”
Saphira paused, her lips parting with surprise, then softened into a smile. “Honestly?” she said, her tone warm. “I’m… surprisingly well. Even with everything hanging over us, it feels right. Like this is where I’m supposed to be.”
Anastasia tilted her head slightly, a faint smile tugging at her mouth. But her eyes dimmed a little with something else.
“I’m stilling to grips with everything too,” she admitted, voice dipping. “Finding you–my daughter–it rewrote everything I thought I knew. And now… I keep thinking about losing you. Or Asher. He’s out there, scouting the Elders, and I can’t do anything to help him.” Her fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the notebook. “That helplessness–it’s awful.”
Saphira circled the desk slowly and lowered herself beside her, close enough to feel the tension humming off Anastasia’s shoulders. Without hesitation, she reached for her hand, folding it into her own.
“We were parted once,” Saphira said gently. “That won’t happen again. I finally have a family–I’m not letting
go
of
that.”
Anastasia’s breath caught, just briefly, and her grip tightened in return.
“And Asher,” Saphira continued, “he’s smart. Capable. He knows what he’s doing. You raised someone brave, whether you were there for all of it or not.”
Anastasia blinked quickly, nodding as she looked down at their joined hands. “Thank
you,” she
murmured. “I needed that.”
They leaned into each other for a beat longer, arms wrapping in a quiet hug–less urgent, between them, stitched with emotion and subtle strength.
more
grounding. When they pulled back, the moment lingered
Saphira gave her a soft look, then tapped the table lightly. “Alright,” she said, breath steadying. “Now tell me—what did you and Zafira get up to while I was flying loops with Niks?”
Business returned. But this time, with hearts stitched closer.
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