Chapter 766: 766

"Mother, please..." Keles murmured, her voice tinged with shy embarrassment as she allowed herself to be guided.

Nana pulled her closer and eased her down onto a bed of blooming flowers, arranging her with the practiced care like someone who had done this countless times before, though never quite like this.

Ikenga watched in silence, a faint smile tugging at his expression. Ikenga at the same time found his gaze drifting across the realm. The land responded to his presence as it always had but something was wrong.

Someone was missing.

His siblings were not here.

They should have felt it by now. His return, Keles’s return, such events would ripple through the realm like a bell struck at its core. Yet the space remained strangely empty, untouched by their familiar presences.

Turning back to his mother, who was still fussing over Keles with barely restrained excitement, Ikenga asked "Where are the others? They should have known about our return."

Nana looked up at him, already about to answer, then she paused.

A knowing smile curved her lips.

"Oh, they know," she said lightly. "And they seem quite eager to see you both."

As if summoned by her words, the realm itself trembled.

Light fractured the air, space folding inward as three figures began to emerge. The ground shimmered beneath their feet, and the sky above brightened as though welcoming them.

The first to fully manifest was Crepuscular.

Bathed in radiant golden light, he burst forward with barely contained energy, laughter ringing out long before he reached Ikenga. In a blur of motion, he wrapped his arms around him and lifted him clean off the ground, spinning him around with unrestrained enthusiasm.

"Oh, little brother," Crepuscular boomed, laughter thick in his voice, "how I have missed you and your weird little quirks!"

Ikenga let out a startled breath, caught somewhere between protest and reluctant amusement, before giving in and returning the embrace.

At the same time, a second figure peeled away from Crepuscular’s form, identical in appearance. This one headed straight for Keles... only to slow halfway, his expression shifting as he took in her condition.

His approach became gentler.

He leaned down and carefully embraced her, mindful of her swollen stomach, his touch warm and sincere.

"You seem to have gained weight, sis," he remarked casually.

The response was immediate.

Keles struck him squarely in the stomach with surprising force.

The impact sent him stumbling back a step, wheezing as laughter erupted around them.

Following closely behind Crepuscular came Jaus, his arrival far less explosive. Where Crepuscular radiated unfiltered warmth and noise, Jaus carried himself with measured calm.

His eyes moved first to Keles, lingering just long enough to take in her condition then shifted to Ikenga.

Without a word, Jaus stepped forward and shoved Crepuscular aside with his shoulder, ignoring the startled protest that followed. He extended his hand to Ikenga, and the two of them fell seamlessly into a peculiar, intricate handshake, one that clearly carried history behind it.

Crepuscular stared at them, eyes wide.

"Hey, when did you two make that without me?" he demanded, sounding genuinely betrayed.

The handshake ended. Ikenga gave Jaus a small nod of acknowledgment, the kind reserved for those who understood him without needing words.

Then the air changed. A soft silver light spilled across the realm as the final figure emerged.

Mahu.

Her form was wrapped in a gentle radiance that reflected her beauty, but her presence changed the mood. Where the others brought noise and motion, Mahu brought stillness, the laughter and chaos dimmed.

Crepuscular and Jaus both glanced at Ikenga, then at each other. Subtle gestures followed, raised fingers, slight nods.

Ikenga clenched his jaw. They were betting, he resisted the urge to curse them aloud.

Mahu’s gaze brushed past Ikenga as though he were no more than a passing thought, and she moved instead toward Keles. She stopped before her, eyes settling on the curve of her daughter’s stomach.

As the goddess of motherhood, Mahu could feel it instantly, the budding life within, fragile yet radiant, surrounded by layers of fate and divinity.

She took a slow, careful step forward. Ikenga’s muscles tensed. He shifted his weight, every instinct urging him to move, to place himself between Mahu and Keles.

But he did not.

The Mahu he knew would never harm a child or its mother.

Still, his hand curled behind his back, fingers clenched tight as he watched, heart pounding in a silence far louder than any laughter that had come before.

Nana saw Mahu approach, and her heart tightened.

As a mother, it pained her to witness how deeply this moment weighed on Mahu. Yet her sorrow was layered with conflict, for Mahu and Keles were both her daughters and the one at the center of it all was her son. There was no side she could take without betraying another.

So Nana did the only thing she could. She stepped back.

Her hands folded together, her expression carefully neutral, even as worry stirred beneath the surface. All she could do now was hope, hope that this moment would not fracture the bonds her children had spent centuries cultivating.

Keles, meanwhile, felt herself caught in a strange and unfamiliar tension.

With every step Mahu took closer, something within her stirred, a quiet but fierce instinct rising from deep within her being. She felt the urge to respond, to shield, to protect the life growing inside her.

Yet she did nothing. She glanced toward Ikenga, he remained still, silent, offering neither intervention nor retreat. His inaction spoke volumes of trust. Trust in Mahu. Trust in Keles. Trust in the bonds they shared.

So Keles stayed where she was and waited.

In that stillness, she imagined herself in Mahu’s place. If their roles were reversed, if she were the one standing before a truth that cut this deeply what would she have done?

As gods, they carried pride as naturally as breath. Though they had shared relationships that went beyond siblinghood, none of them had ever laid explicit claim over another, not his, not hers. Such declarations were unnecessary.

They had always understood. There had always been something more between them.

Before Ikenga’s long journey with Keles ever began, it was Mahu who shared a quiet, unspoken connection with him.

Their bond had never needed names or declarations. It existed in glances held a moment too long, in shared silences that felt heavier than words. There had been affection, understanding, something that walked the line between companionship and love, never crossing it, yet always aware of how close it stood.

Keles, before the journey, had never shared anything like that with Ikenga. Whatever existed between them then was familial, distant from romance. But time has a way of reshaping boundaries, and the long path they walked together, through danger, loss, and reliance made something inevitable.

And so it happened.

From shared hardship came intimacy. From intimacy came consequence. And from that consequence, a new life began to form.

What Keles carried now was something Ikenga had once denied Mahu.

Before his departure, Mahu had asked him to leave her with something of himself, a child. A hope, she believed that even in his absence, such a bond would tether them together, strengthen what they had begun to build.

Ikenga had refused.

Not because he did not care, but because he cared too much.

He had already made that mistake once, with his first son. He had not been as present as he should have been, and the weight of that failure never left him. He would not leave Mahu with a child he could not stand beside, guide, or protect. He would not ask her to bear that burden alone.

He had told Keles all of this during their journey.

And so she understood.

She understood why Mahu stood as she did now, silent and heavy with emotion. Something Mahu had wanted, something she had been denied, now existed before her, embodied in Keles herself.

Keles did not feel triumph at that.

Mahu finally came to a stop before Keles.

For a while she simply stood there, silver light gently washing over them both. Then, without warning or ceremony, she leaned forward and wrapped Keles in a firm embrace. Keles stiffened for only a heartbeat before returning it.

"Welcome home, sister," Mahu said softly.

Keles nodded, meeting her gaze, words failing her in the presence of everything Mahu represented in this moment.

Mahu’s eyes drifted downward, settling on Keles’s stomach. Her expression shifted a bit before a smile appeared.

"Quite a strong boy," she said, placing a hand upon it.

Keles tensed instinctively, her body reacting before thought could intervene. Then Mahu laughed, light, genuine, almost surprised.

"He is also quite the talker."

The tension melted away.

Keles felt it then, her son reaching outward, curious rather than afraid. There was no sense of threat, no warning instinct flaring. Only recognition.

"You have my blessing, sister," Mahu said.

As she spoke, her divinity unfurled gently, not overwhelming but warm, extending its grace to both mother and child. It wrapped around them like a quiet promise, something given freely despite everything.

Then Mahu straightened. She turned toward Ikenga.

Crepuscular and Jaus both froze, breath caught in their throats.

This was it.