Updated Mar 10, 2026 • ~7 min read
Two months after Morgana’s attack.
The manor is quiet again.
Too quiet.
Everyone is on edge. Waiting for the next attack.
It hasn’t come.
Morgana vanished completely. No sightings. No threats.
But the waiting is almost worse than fighting.
“She’s planning something,” Damien says.
He’s recovered physically from the attack. But mentally, he’s struggling.
Nightmares. Hypervigilance. Jumping at shadows.
PTSD, Sera realizes.
From years of trauma finally catching up.
“Maybe she’s gone. Given up.”
“Morgana doesn’t give up. She’s patient. Strategic. She’ll strike when we’re vulnerable.”
“Then we stay not-vulnerable.”
“Is that even possible?”
Sera doesn’t have an answer.
Catherine is eight months old now.
Crawling. Getting into everything.
Completely unaware of the danger surrounding them.
Sera watches her daughter explore.
So innocent. So trusting.
It breaks her heart.
“She deserves better than this,” she tells Marcus one afternoon.
“She has two parents who love her. A home. Protection. That’s more than many children have.”
“She has parents constantly preparing for magical warfare. That’s not normal.”
“Normal is overrated. Look at her. She’s happy.”
It’s true.
Catherine is a joyful baby. Laughing constantly. Curious about everything.
Maybe she’s too young to sense the tension.
Or maybe children are more resilient than adults give them credit for.
Damien’s transformations become more frequent.
Stress-triggered.
The fear and anxiety manifesting physically.
He transforms twice in one week.
Both times controlled. Both times he locks himself away.
But it’s exhausting.
“You need to relax,” Sera says.
“I can’t. Morgana is out there. Planning. Waiting to strike.”
“So we just live in constant fear? That’s letting her win.”
“Better fearful and alive than relaxed and dead.”
Sera wants to argue.
But she understands.
She’s scared too.
One afternoon, Lilith visits.
Unexpected. But welcome.
“I’ve been tracking Morgana,” she says. “Through magical channels. Rumors. Sightings.”
“And?”
“She’s in France. Gathering power. Recruiting other dark practitioners.”
“So she is planning something.”
“Yes. But it will take time. Months, maybe years. You have breathing room.”
“Or she wants us to think that. While she’s actually closer, waiting to strike.”
Lilith considers.
“Possible. But I don’t think so. Morgana is methodical. She’ll build her power before attacking again.”
“So what do we do? Just wait?”
“You live. Build your life. Strengthen your family. Because when she does come back, your bond is your greatest weapon. The stronger your family, the stronger your defense.”
It makes sense.
But living normally while waiting for attack feels impossible.
Sera decides to try anyway.
She starts hosting small gatherings again.
Dinners. Afternoon teas. Normal social activities.
Damien resists at first.
“We should be preparing. Training. Not entertaining.”
“We can do both. We need normalcy. For Catherine if not for us.”
Reluctantly, he agrees.
The first gathering is awkward.
Everyone knows about Morgana. About the threat.
No one mentions it.
They talk about weather. Crops. Village gossip.
Surface things.
Safe things.
But it’s a start.
Catherine’s first birthday approaches.
Sera wants to celebrate.
“A party. Small. Just close friends and family.”
“Is that safe?”
“We can’t put our lives on hold forever. And she deserves to have her birthday celebrated.”
Damien can’t argue with that.
They plan a small party.
Marcus. Gideon. Lilith. Edmund and Beatrice. A few villagers.
Nothing elaborate. Just cake and presents and joy.
The day arrives.
Catherine wears a little dress Beatrice made.
Blue with white flowers.
She looks adorable.
Everyone brings gifts.
Toys. Books. A small stuffed bear from Marcus.
Catherine is overwhelmed. Delighted.
She tears into wrapping paper with enthusiasm.
Laughs at every gift.
It’s perfect.
For a few hours, they forget about Morgana. About danger. About fear.
They’re just a family celebrating a milestone.
Normal. Happy. Whole.
That night, after everyone leaves, Damien holds Catherine.
She’s exhausted from the excitement. Nearly asleep.
“One year,” he whispers. “You’ve been in our lives for one year.”
“Best year of my life,” Sera says.
“Mine too. Despite everything.”
“Because of everything. We fought for this. For her. For us.”
Damien kisses Catherine’s forehead.
“I promise you’ll have a better childhood than I did. No curses. No isolation. Just love and safety and joy.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“I can try.”
Weeks pass.
No Morgana. No attacks.
Just life.
Catherine learns to walk.
Wobbly at first. Then confident.
Running everywhere. Into everything.
Damien and Sera are exhausted trying to keep up.
“How does something so small have so much energy?” Damien asks.
They’re collapsed on the couch after Catherine finally went to sleep.
“Genetics. Youth. The universe’s revenge on parents.”
“All terrible.”
“All true.”
They sit in comfortable silence.
Then Damien speaks.
“I think I’m ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“To stop waiting. To stop living in fear. Morgana will come back or she won’t. But I can’t control that. I can only control how I live until then.”
“What changed?”
“Catherine. Watching her grow. Seeing her joy. I don’t want fear to be what she remembers about her childhood. I want her to remember love. Laughter. Family.”
Sera takes his hand.
“So we live.”
“We live. Fully. Completely. No more holding back.”
“What does that look like?”
Damien considers.
“Reopening the manor completely. Hosting events. Being part of the community again. Living like the curse never happened.”
“The curse did happen.”
“But it doesn’t define us anymore. We survived it. Moved past it. Now we live despite it.”
They start slowly.
Small changes.
Damien stops wearing protective charms constantly.
Sera invites more people over.
They take Catherine to the village. Let her interact with other children.
Normal family things.
It’s terrifying at first.
Every stranger is a potential threat. Every sound a possible attack.
But nothing happens.
Just normal days. Normal interactions.
Slowly, they start to relax.
Six months after Morgana’s attack.
No new threats. No sightings.
Life continues.
Catherine is thriving. Walking. Starting to say words.
“Mama” came first. Then “Dada.”
Now she’s attempting full sentences.
“Want cookie!”
“No cookies before dinner,” Sera says.
“Cookie NOW!”
“She’s definitely your daughter,” Damien says. “Stubborn.”
“She’s YOUR daughter. Dramatic.”
“Fair.”
Catherine glares at both of them.
Then tries a different tactic.
“Please? Cookie please?”
She’s learning manipulation early.
Also genetic.
Damien still transforms monthly.
During full moons. Sometimes during stress.
But it’s managed. Controlled.
Part of his life. Not defining it.
One month, Catherine toddles into the room as he’s mid-transformation.
Sera panics.
But Catherine just stares.
Curious. Unafraid.
“Dada?”
The beast kneels.
Careful. Gentle.
Lets Catherine touch his fur.
She giggles.
“Fluffy Dada!”
Damien maintains control through sheer force of will.
Letting his daughter pet him like he’s a very large dog.
When the transformation reverses, he’s shaking.
“That was terrifying.”
“She’s not scared of you. Any version of you.”
“Children are either very brave or very stupid.”
“Both. Definitely both.”
Two years after the curse broke.
The manor is fully restored.
Beautiful. Alive. Thriving.
Gardens in full bloom. Forest completely green.
No trace of the curse’s damage.
They host a midsummer party.
Big. Elaborate. Everyone invited.
Villagers. Neighbors. Friends from across the country.
The manor is full of music and laughter and joy.
Catherine, now almost two, runs around with other children.
Playing. Laughing. Living.
Damien watches from the balcony.
Sera joins him.
“What are you thinking?”
“That this is what I wanted. Back when the curse first hit. When I lost everything. I wanted this. Normal life. Family. Joy.”
“You have it now.”
“I do. Against all odds. Despite everything. I actually have it.”
“We have it. Together.”
“Together.”
They watch the party below.
Their family. Their community. Their life.
Hard-won. Precious. Beautiful.
And somewhere in the back of their minds, they know Morgana might return.
That danger might come again.
But right now?
Right now they’re happy.
And that’s enough.
More than enough.
It’s everything.
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