A cold dread settled in her stomach, mixing with the warmth of finally knowing where she came from. The goddess said she needed to see this. That meant something was coming. Something that would tear this little family apart before it even had a chance to begin.
"No," Sophia whispered, already grieving for what she suspected was about to unfold. "Please, not them. Not when they're so close..."
The water in the wooden cup began to glow faintly as Jasmine brought it to her lips. She paused, staring at the soft blue luminescence with a mixture of frustration and wonder.
"Again?" she muttered. "Everything I touch lately either glows, wilts, or explodes."
Althander's brow furrowed with concern. "The spiritual energy?"
"It's the baby." Jasmine set the cup down carefully, watching as the glow slowly faded. "Ever since I got pregnant, that ocean inside my head... it's moving. Actively. Like it's responding to something. To her." She placed both hands on her belly. "I can feel it. The baby is pulling from it, drinking from that vast reservoir I could never access."
As if to prove her point, the air around Jasmine shimmered. Sophia watched in amazement as tiny motes of light—like fireflies made of pure energy—began to drift from Jasmine's skin, swirling around her in lazy circles before being drawn back into her abdomen where they vanished.
"Does it hurt?" Althander asked, his hand hovering protectively near her shoulder.
"No. It's just... strange. Overwhelming sometimes." Jasmine closed her eyes, and Sophia could see her concentrating. "This morning when I woke up, half the plants in our shelter had grown three feet overnight. The roots I can normally only sense a few meters down? I felt them extending for miles. And last week—"
She stopped abruptly, her expression clouding.
"What happened last week?"
"I got angry. Just frustrated about being stuck here, about not knowing if we'd ever get home, about raising our child in isolation." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "The entire island shook, Althander. For ten seconds, the ground trembled like the world itself was responding to my emotions. That's never happened before. I've never been able to affect the earth on that scale."
Althander pulled her close, mindful of her belly. "The child is powerful then. Like her parents."
"Or she's unstable." Jasmine's voice cracked. "What if I can't control this? What if when she's born, all that energy I've stored my entire life—that ocean that's been dormant—what if it all comes flooding out? What if I hurt her? Or you?"
Sophia felt her own chest tighten watching her mother's fear. She'd never considered what her birth might have meant, what it might have cost.
"Listen to me," Althander said firmly, tilting Jasmine's chin up to meet his eyes. "You are the strongest person I know. You survived in a world that told you that you were powerless. You crossed realms. You adapted. Whatever happens when our pup arrives, we'll face it together."
Jasmine nodded, but Sophia could see the worry didn't leave her eyes.
That night, Sophia watched as Jasmine tried to sleep, but her body wouldn't let her rest. Every few minutes, soft pulses of light would ripple across her skin like waves on water. Her hair—which had been black when she'd first arrived on the island—now had streaks of silver-white running through it, as if the energy inside her was literally changing her from within.
And in the quiet darkness, Sophia heard her mother whisper to the child growing inside her:
"Please be okay. Please be strong enough to survive this. Survive me."
The peaceful moment shattered three days later.
Althander was the first to notice. His wolf senses picked up the wrongness before his human mind could process it. The birds had gone silent. All of them. The constant background chatter of the island's wildlife—the chirping, the rustling, the calls that had become so familiar—had ceased entirely.
He stood abruptly from where he'd been repairing their shelter, head tilted, ears straining.
"What is it?" Jasmine asked, immediately alert despite her exhaustion.
"Listen."
She did. Her eyes widened. "Nothing. There's... nothing."
"Exactly."
They both turned toward the forest. The trees stood unnaturally still, not a single leaf trembling despite the breeze Sophia could see moving the grass at their feet. It was as if the entire island was holding its breath.
Then Jasmine gasped, her hand flying to her belly. "The energy—something's wrong with the energy."