Rayne stirred in Kaelen’s arms, a tiny cry escaping her lips. It was the first time Kaelen had heard her cry — a sharp, clear sound that made his heart lurch. Then, just as quickly, it softened into a wail, and Kaelen’s heart swelled. She was alive. She was real. She was normal.

He smiled, cooing at her, bouncing her gently. “Shh… shh, it’s okay, Rayne. You’re safe. You’re safe with me.” Her small hands reached up to his face, patting at his cheek. He let her, grinning through the fear and uncertainty.

Draven glanced between the two of them, heart heavy. “Just… be careful with her, Kaelen,” he said softly, echoing his earlier warning. “I know you love her, but don’t hold her like she’s made of glass. You can’t protect her from everything… and the valley… it’s already watching.”

Kaelen hesitated, eyes wide, searching his brother’s face for reassurance. Draven’s words weren’t harsh, but they carried weight — a reminder that fear didn’t just live in the valley, it lived in every glance, every whisper, even in the hands meant to protect.

Kaelen nodded slowly, clutching Rayne tighter. “I… I understand,” he said, though the stubborn light in his eyes showed he wasn’t giving up his protective stance anytime soon.

Draven stepped back, glancing toward the window. The valley outside stretched quiet and calm, but he knew better. The whispers were already there, hiding beneath the hum of daily life. And if anyone noticed Kaelen’s devotion to Rayne, it could be trouble — for all of them.

For now, all they could do was hold her close, and wait.

At the end of another day Kaelen carried Rayne carefully across the soft grass near the edge of the fence, her tiny body swaddled warmly against him. Ahead, two women stood watching. Something about them made Kaelen pause — he knew them, or at least he felt as though he did. But try as he might, he could never truly see them. Their forms shimmered just beyond the edges of clarity, draped in layers of colorful shrouds that seemed to shift in hue when the light touched them.

Their voices reached him first, soft and musical, carrying a warmth that made his chest feel light. “She is… remarkable,” one said, and Kaelen felt the sound more than he heard it. It wrapped around him, gentle and reassuring.

Kaelen took a careful step forward, holding Rayne higher for them to see. “Look! This is my little sister! She’s amazing!”

The women leaned closer, their hands extending with fingers a little too long, graceful and delicate, brushing softly against Rayne’s cheeks. It was strange — almost unnatural — but it didn’t frighten him. Somehow, their presence felt safe. “She will be strong, and wise,” the other woman said, cooing softly at the baby, “and you… you are a wonderful big brother.”

Kaelen’s chest swelled. “I’ll protect her! I’ll never let anything hurt her. Just like I did with the egg!” He proudly showed them Rayne’s tiny hands, watching the way she grasped his finger. “See? She already grabs things! And she’s trying to talk! I’m teaching her!”

The women nodded, almost gliding as they did, and their long, shifting shrouds made it impossible for Kaelen to tell where one ended and the other began. “Yes,” one said, “she is perfect. And you… you are perfect for her, too.” Their words washed over him like sunlight through mist.

“Thank you, Aunty!” Kaelen said, using the honorary title he had given any older woman close to his family. It felt right, and somehow they accepted it without correction. “I’m going to take care of her forever!”

A sharp call interrupted him: “Kaelen! Dinner!” Draven’s voice carried across the yard. He turned toward it, and in that brief moment, the women were gone. The shimmer of their shrouds, the elongated fingers, the impossibly soft voices — all vanished, leaving only a subtle trace of warmth and the quiet rustle of the wind.

At Kaelen’s feet, though, a new pile of rune stones glimmered faintly, intricate and unfamiliar, almost humming with a life of their own. He glanced at them, but curiosity melted into the pull of home and family. With Rayne still swaddled in his arms, Kaelen turned back toward the house, oblivious to the subtle warnings of the runes or the whispers that now edged along the fence line.

Kaelen padded back toward the house, Rayne snug in his arms, the warmth of her little body making his chest feel full and steady. The voices of the women lingered in his mind, soft and musical, like a song he couldn’t quite hum himself. He glanced back toward the fence line, half-expecting them to reappear, but there was nothing — only the gentle sway of the tall grass and the faint shimmer of sunlight on the rune stones.

Still, something made him pause. The runes at his feet seemed to pulse, almost imperceptibly, as if they remembered the women’s presence. A small shiver ran down his spine, but Kaelen shook it off. They had been kind. They had smiled at him, cooed at Rayne, and approved of him. That was all that mattered.

As he neared the house, a breeze rustled the shrouds of a drying cloth on the line, and for a brief moment, Kaelen swore he saw the same shifting colors he had seen on the women’s robes, only in the sunlight and mist. He blinked hard. Nothing. Just the cloth, swaying lazily in the wind.

Inside, the valley seemed unusually still. The adults whispered as they worked, tending to chores, eyeing each other with the faint tension of unspoken rumors. Kaelen didn’t yet understand it, but the valley was watching, always watching, and everything different — everything other — was immediately suspect.

He set Rayne down carefully on the low bench in the kitchen. She cooed at him, reaching for his hand, and he smiled. “I’ll protect you,” he whispered, brushing her tiny hair back. “Just like I protected the egg. Just like I’ll always protect you.”

And though the warmth of her presence made him feel safe, a part of Kaelen couldn’t shake the faint memory of the women — their long fingers, the shimmering shrouds, the way their voices seemed to linger even after they had vanished. He didn’t understand it, but somehow he knew they weren’t entirely of the valley. Not entirely of this world.

Outside, the wind shifted again, brushing across the rune stones along the fence line. They glimmered faintly, and a whisper of something unseen made the hairs on Kaelen’s arms stand up. But he didn’t tell anyone. He had Rayne. That was enough for now.

Still, in the back of his mind, a small, unspoken worry began to grow: the valley was watching them, and the world beyond was stirring.