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As Ambisextra stood in the window of her throneroom, the gentle sun warming her skin, she felt anything but serenity.
The weight of her wings felt heavier than they had in as long as she could remember, threatening to falter beneath the heavy burden of her fears. For the first time ever, Ambisextra feared that her wings would fall from their outstretched position, that they would droop from where they stretched out to the skies and that her feathers would break and drift to the floor as her heart broke within her chest.
For from her vantage point at the highest window in all of Jasper, she would have the perfect view of her son as he flew away from their city. As he flew away from her.
A knot tightened in her chest with each passing moment, wrapping around her gentle heart and slowly crushing it as her fears and uncertainty consumed her every thought, as she pondered the 'what-ifs?' that could come of Sylvain's quest.
Sylvain, who was too young for the responsibilities thrust upon him by the Council of Women, too inexperienced and unprepared for what awaited him, was the one they had chosen for this mission.
She desperately wished she had the power to keep him from this potentially doomed mission, to forbid him from leaving Jasper, but she knew that she couldn't.
It was one life in return for many.
It was her son, in return for her people.
Her mind, logical and emotionless, knew that he was the best agent they had, the man most likely to succeed and save their people - but, oh, her heart. Her emotional and motherly heart cried out that he was just a boy, young and barely old enough to be away from her side at every day, every hour.
And Sylvain, her beloved son, had stood resolute in his determination to investigate the attacks plaguing their land - accepting the assignment with strength and resolve stronger than any man Ambisextra knew. His youthful vigor and sense of duty had shone brightly in his eager eyes, but Ambisextra could not shake the gnawing fear that gripped her soul.
As Sylvain mounted his mechanical transport far below, his figure illuminated by the soft glow of the sun far above, Ambisextra felt a lump form in her throat. She longed to hold him close, to protect him from the dangers that awaited beyond the safety of their city.
But duty had called, and Sylvain was willing to heed its summons, even if it meant risking his own life - even if it meant forfeiting his own life.
Sylvain's eager acceptance of the assignment had sent cracks painfully racing across Ambisextra's heart, cracks that still stung and ached as she watched him take flight.
"I would give my life-"
His words, those five horrible words that she never wanted to hear uttered in his voice again, echoed in her mind, his readiness to lay down his life in battle a concept she refused to entertain. All she wished was for her son to return to them, alive, but the uncertainty gnawed at her soul and twisted her thoughts.
She could not bear the thought of losing him, and a part of her was unsure if he would ever return to her arms.
As Sylvain circled the palace and soared past the window of her throne room, his figure atop his mechanical mount growing smaller and smaller against the vast expanse of the horizon, Ambisextra remained rooted to her position at the window. Her gaze lingered on the distant silhouette of her son, his form confident and brave as he soared off into the unknown.
Tears welled in Ambisextra's eyes as she clenched her hands together, her chest tight and her heart torn between conflicting emotions, torn between pride in Sylvain's bravery and the overwhelming fear of losing him.
As the leader of the Gandaharians, she knew that Sylvain's quest was noble, his willingness to sacrifice himself for the greater good a testament to his strength of character - the sign of one who was fit to be a leader, a protector.
And she was proud of Sylvain, for her son had every quality of a great man and he deserved to be known as one that would fight to the end for their people, but beneath the facade of strength and pride lay a mother's anguish, a fear that threatened to consume her whole. As a mother, as his mother, her instinct was to shield Sylvain from harm, to keep him safe within the confines of the palace walls where she could watch over him with unwavering vigilance.
The thought of her son venturing into the unknown, facing dangers beyond her control and dangers that could steal him away from her forever, filled Ambisextra with a profound sense of helplessness.
Outside the window, the world continued to turn, her people went about their daily lives, all oblivious to the queen's silent anguish. But within the confines of her throne room, Ambisextra's heart ached with the overwhelming uncertainty of what lay ahead and her world crumbled and threatened to fall apart.
For as long as Sylvain would remain out of her sight and his condition unknown to her heart, the specter of doubt and fear would take center-stage in Ambisextra's mind, a constant reminder of the fragility of life and the sacrifices demanded by duty - the sacrifices that might claim her son's name, soon enough.
She remained, gazing out the window with glassy eyes and a heavy heart, for hours.
She remained, gazing out the window, long after Sylvain disappeared over the horizon, her cheeks wet with tears.
She remained, gazing out the window, long after Blaminhor and the Council of Women had left, her legs numb but her heart even more so.
She remained, gazing out the window, and her heart ached for the uncertain fate of her dearest son.
And as the sun was swallowed up by the horizon Sylvain had disappeared over and the moons rose in its place, stars twinkling in the night sky with a beauty she couldn't appreciate, Ambisextra remained, her heart consumed by worry for her dearest son.
Would he ever return?
Only time would tell, but until then, she would keep her vigil at the window, watching the horizon and praying for his safe return with every beat of her weary heart.