The vast master bedroom of Gaunt Manor was filled with laughter and magic.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Aurelian waved his hands exaggeratedly, using his magic to keep his two children floating a meter above the comforters. The little ones, who were already three months old, were fascinated. Viktor was laughing heartily, waving his little arms and looking in all directions as he spun round and round in the air, and Colette was reaching her chubby little hands toward her dad, babbling happily and blowing bubbles of saliva.
Aurelian was in charge of the little ones all by himself that afternoon. The twins weren't at the mansion. Hestia and Flora had gone shopping first thing in the morning, claiming with conviction and seriousness that "there weren't enough clothes and toys for their cute babies," even though they already had three entire rooms bursting at the seams with stuff. Knowing his wives and their penchant for sweeping through boutiques all over Europe, that meant they wouldn't be back until well into the night.
With a circular motion of his fingers, Aurelian lowered the magical field, and the babies floated for a little while longer before falling extremely slowly and gently onto the pillows on the bed.
Aurelian lay down beside them and hugged them close to his chest, wrapping his arms around them so they wouldn't roll away.
"Their mothers are compulsive fashion fanatics—did you know that?" Aurelian whispered with a smile, breathing in the scent and magic they gave off.
Viktor, who had ended up very close to his dad's face, raised his little hands, grabbed a lock of Aurelian's dark hair, brought it straight to his mouth, and began sucking on it enthusiastically. Colette, oblivious to her brother's antics, simply clapped her hands and giggled every time Aurelian gently scratched her tummy.
Aurelian burst out laughing and, very carefully, moved Viktor's head away to free his hair, now covered in drool. Finding himself deprived of his new toy, Viktor frowned and began to sob, puffing out his cheeks, ready to throw a tantrum.
"Oh, no, you're not going to start crying," Aurelian warned him playfully, and quickly began tickling his neck.
Viktor's crying stopped abruptly, turning into laughter that spread to his sister.
"It's good to see your descendants growing up so strong, my friend…"
A deep hiss echoed from the shadows near the fireplace. Aurelian turned his head and saw Nythoros. The Serpent King slithered across the thick carpet, lifting his head to observe the little heirs with curiosity.
At the sight of the snake with its bright, colorful scales, the babies' eyes widened. Far from being frightened, they both smiled, baring their gums, and clumsily tried to crawl across the sheets to catch their new "toy."
Aurelian laughed, sitting down on the bed, and let the babies interact with his companion.
Nythoros, however, hadn't expected such a coordinated move. Before the millennia-old basilisk could back away, Viktor reached out and grabbed the snake firmly just below its head. At the same time, Colette lunged forward and grabbed Nythoros tightly by the tip of its tail.
Each began pulling toward their side, trying to wrest it away from the other, using the most lethal creature in the magical world as if it were a rope.
Poor Nythoros squirmed, hissing with a mixture of surprise and indignation. He tried to wriggle free gently so as not to hurt them, but the Gaunt babies' grip was surprisingly strong.
"Let me go, you little beasts! Aurelian, do something!" the basilisk complained, struggling.
Seeing that they wouldn't let go, Nythoros resorted to magic. He suddenly grew in size, reaching five meters in length and becoming as thick as a tree trunk. As he expanded, the force caused the babies to let go. As gently as it could, the immense serpent used its snout to push the babies gently backward onto the mattress.
Nythoros let out a warning hiss before quickly shrinking back to its pocket-sized form.
But the shock of the snake's sudden growth and aggressive hissing was too much for them. Viktor and Colette scrunched up their little faces, opened their mouths, and began crying at the top of their lungs.
Aurelian let out a sigh, rubbing his temple.
"Look what you've done, Nythoros…" Aurelian scolded him in Parseltongue, while soothing the babies. "You scared the children; now who knows how I'll be able to calm them down"
Nythoros raised his head, adopting a posture of utter indignation and wounded pride.
"It's not my fault!" hissed the basilisk, offended. "And in any case, it's entirely your fault for being a lousy father and failing to teach your offspring to respect their elders"
Without giving Aurelian time to respond, the basilisk turned on his heel and quickly slipped out of the room through the door that was still open, offended by the way the babies had treated him.
Aurelian shook his head, muttering to himself.
"They're only three months old, you dramatic lizard…"
He lifted the babies, one in each arm, and pressed them close to his chest, rocking them in a steady rhythm.
"There, there… don't listen to that mean, grumpy basilisk," Aurelian whispered sweetly, kissing the tears from their cheeks. "Everything's okay now; it's over. Daddy is here with you, and no one in this world can hurt you, my beautiful babies."
Soothed by the warmth of his voice and the steady beat of his heart, Viktor and Colette gradually calmed down. Their crying subsided into little hiccups, and slowly, lulled by the warmth, they began to close their little eyes until they fell completely asleep on Aurelian's chest.
Aurelian smiled, feeling his children's steady breathing. He leaned down and kissed Viktor's head, then Colette's.
Once he was sure they were fast asleep, the smile faded from his face. His eyes hardened as he scanned his surroundings intently.
He looked up, gazing toward the darkest corner of the room, and whispered in a voice that cut through the air.
"Lady Death… if you're around here… I'd like to speak with you."
Silence filled the room. Not even the wind from outside could be heard.
Suddenly, the temperature in the bedroom plummeted. The air turned icy, frost began to form on the edges of the windows, and the shadows in the corners seemed to lengthen and twist, converging toward the center.
Aurelian knew that Death was indeed near. She always was.
As he waited for the cosmic entity to deign to manifest itself, Aurelian shielded his children with his magic so that the cold in the room wouldn't wake them or make them sick, and he wondered to himself, with a touch of irony: Is my life Death's very own soap opera?
"I've been watching you. You've been very, very busy lately, Lord Gaunt."
The voice, soft as silk and cold as ice, came from behind him.
Aurelian turned around slowly, showing not the slightest hint of surprise or fear. Standing before him was Lady Death. The cosmic entity was laughing softly, covering her lips with a pale hand adorned with an Ankh symbol on the back.
"I see you're still wearing the outfit I imagined you in the first time," Aurelian remarked, taking in her attire. The tight black jeans, the sleeveless T-shirt, the studded belt, and the tousled dark hair framing a face of supernatural beauty—exactly like the personification of Death from the DC Comics.
Lady Death nodded happily.
"I really loved the design you gave to my abstract concept," she replied with a warm smile. "It's comfortable. In fact, ever since we met, whenever I have to go collect or visit a soul in any corner of the universe, I show up in this very form. Mortals find it less frightening."
Death interlaced her fingers behind her back, leaned forward, and walked until she was standing in front of Aurelian. Her eyes rested on the two babies sleeping peacefully on his chest.
"Oh," whispered Death, "Newborns are always the best to behold. They're so… unique. Pure souls, with everything ahead of them. Decisions, dreams, longings, and paths no one has ever walked before. A blank page waiting to be written on."
Feeling a chill from Death's presence too close to his children, Aurelian stepped back carefully. He walked over to the corner of the room and placed Viktor and Colette in their respective cribs, tucking them in tightly and making sure the spells were active so that the conversation wouldn't disturb them.
When he turned around, Death was leaning against one of the bedposts, smiling at him.
"Well then, Aurelian… Why did you call me?"
Aurelian narrowed his eyes, staring at her intently.
"I have a question. Are you always by my side?"
Death smiled from ear to ear, a smile that was both beautiful and chilling. She raised her arms in the air as she nodded repeatedly.
"Oh, of course I am. I will always, always be by your side, Aurelian Gaunt. You're my favorite anomaly in this whole boring universe."
Aurelian cleared his throat, coming to terms with the fact that she was probably watching him even when he went to the bathroom.
"Well… then, considering that you see everything, is what I'm planning to do all right?"
Death stopped smiling. Her expression became inscrutable. She stepped closer to him and raised a hand, gently caressing Aurelian's cheek. The touch didn't hurt, but it felt like peering over the edge of an abyss.
"I cannot judge people's desires, young man," Death replied. "I do not judge. I do not comment. It is not my role to tip the scales toward good or evil. I am simply there, present, at the exact moment a soul leaves this world, to take it by the hand and help it into its next chapter of existence."
Death withdrew her hand and took a step back.
"If you believe that is the best path to take for your race and for yourself… then do it. Shatter the heavens if necessary. After all, Aurelian, you are the Fatebreaker. The rules no longer apply to you."
Aurelian nodded slowly, feeling a weight lift from his shoulders.
"I thank you for your help and advice."
Death nodded. Suddenly, she tilted her head, as if hearing something in the distance.
"Oh-oh…" Death whispered, amused, sensing the imminent arrival of Hestia and Flora down the hallway. "I think your time of peace is over."
In a movement so fast that Aurelian's eyes couldn't follow it, the goth girl leaped up and nimbly climbed onto Aurelian's shoulders, wrapping her arms around his neck and crossing her legs in front of his chest, as if she were riding a horse.
"I'm having a blast watching your life, Aurelian," Death whispered in his ear, her tone pure mischief. "I wish you the best of luck with what's to come… and in the next five minutes."
Before Aurelian could complain or try to shake her off, the room's doors burst open.
Hestia and Flora came in laughing, laden with several bags.
"We're here, our love! Did you miss us a lo...?" Hestia began enthusiastically.
But the words died in their throats.
The sisters froze in the doorway, dropping the bags to the floor. Their eyes widened, fixed on the scene: their perfect, untouchable, and beautiful husband had a young, pale woman clinging to his neck, perched on his shoulders in his own bedroom.
Death, still perched on Aurelian's shoulders, gave them a radiant smile, waved cheerfully at them, and with a wink, vanished into thin air, fading into the shadows and leaving Aurelian to his fate.
The silence that followed was the most terrifying Aurelian had ever experienced in his life. The bedroom doors slammed shut.
Hestia and Flora advanced slowly toward him, a sadistic, possessive, and completely irrational gleam in their eyes.
"Who… the hell… was that filthy bitch hugging you?" they asked him at the same time in very, very low voices, in a tone that promised death.
Aurelian instinctively stepped back, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender.
"My loves, listen to me first—I swear there's an explanation! It was Lady Death! Death herself! We were just talking—I swear on my magic…"
But Hestia and Flora didn't hear a single word of his desperate explanation. Jealousy had taken hold of them.
They pounced on him like two lionesses. They grabbed him by the lapels, shoved him hard, and dragged him straight toward the bed, causing him to fall flat on his back onto the mattress.
"We don't care if it was Morgan le Fay come back to life!" Flora hissed, straddling his hips and roughly beginning to unbutton his shirt.
Hestia knelt beside her, her nails digging lightly into his arms as she pinned him down, and leaned in to bite his neck hard, leaving an undeniable mark of ownership.
"We'll have to remind you of something very, very important today, my husband," Hestia whispered in his ear, while Flora impatiently finished undressing him. "That you belong solely and exclusively to us. To no one else."
"You're ours, Aurelian," Flora murmured, kissing him with overwhelming, fierce passion. "Only ours… ours."
And under the twins' demanding discipline, Aurelian knew that there was no army, no Archmage, no cosmic entity in the universe capable of saving him from the possessive love of his wives.
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