Ravenna screamed, and the Nightmares closed in about her.

She screamed again, and the Nightmares reached out their hands.

One more time, and then the Nightmares were cradling Ravenna and Maximilian’s son in their terrible hands, loving him a little, before laying him down in Ravenna’s arms.

Ravenna cradled her son, tears streaming down her face. For so many months she’d thought that her son would be denied her or that, if he did make it to birth, his heritage would be denied to him.

But he had been born, and he had been born with all his heritage his to take as he wanted.

Lord of Elcho Falling.

She kissed his brow, marvelling that, even newly-born, she could clearly see Maximilian’s features in his.

Maximilian’s son.

Ravenna wept in joy.

She cradled their son against her breast and was delighted when he began to nurse. He would grow strong here, learning from her and from her nightmarish midwives.

“And one day,” Ravenna whispered to him, “one day I will take you home to Elcho Falling, which is your right.”

She smiled yet again, then, in a soft voice, began to tell her son about Elcho Falling and all it would mean to him.

One day.