They say where one goes, the other follows.
In the sprawling expanse of the cosmos, Paul Atreides and Seraphina Sylvane are bound together by an unbreakable tether. Despite the light years and planetary divides throughout the Known Universe, their...
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"Maybe you should get some rest," Seraphina Sylvane spoke in worry, gently brushing away the strands of hair clinging to Jessica's sweaty forehead. "You need sleep."
"I'm alright, dear. I just woke up and I don't want to sleep yet." Jessica sighed, her eyes weary and shadowed with fatigue. "Where's Paul?"
"He just went to get you some water to drink," Seraphina reassured her, patting Jessica's hand that rested protectively over her womb. "He'll be back soon."
After the intense debate among the Fremen outside, the crowd had finally dispersed and settled in. Seraphina's eyes wandered around the dimly lit cave, the very heart of the ritual chamber where the previous Reverend Mother and her followers had always gathered. She could feel the weight of the women's eyes on her, each glance sharp and scrutinizing as they busied themselves concocting Jessica's medicine. The atmosphere was thick with unspoken judgment, and the sensation did nothing to settle her nerves.
"I saw your mother," Jessica whispered, snapping Seraphina's gaze back to her with a jolt. "She spoke to me."
"You did...?" Seraphina's throat tightened, torn between disbelief and the desperate hope that it might be true. The dazed look in Jessica's eyes, however, suggested otherwise. "It must be some kind of hallucination after the drink you've taken."
Jessica's hand tightened around Seraphina's, her grip almost painful and shaky. "She was there, she felt so real, Seraphina. Seeing you now, it just makes everything clearer that Lysandra was real."
Seraphina's eyes stung, her lips quivering at the mention of her mother. She had accepted Lysandra's death, but the pain lingered, a raw wound that refused to heal. It was a bitter bile rising in her throat, a guilt she hadn't yet forgiven herself for. Talking about her mother was a dangerous path; it would only lead to tears she couldn't afford. Not now, not in this barren land.
Jessica's gaze drifted upwards, her eyes widening in fear as they fixed on a point over Seraphina's shoulder. A woman in a black dress, veiled and ghostly, stood behind her. Jessica's breath came in shaky gasps, her eyes haunted with a stench of blood and death. "She's even right behind you..."
A shiver ran down Seraphina's spine, her muscles tensing. Slowly, she turned her head to look over her shoulder, her breath catching in her throat as her blood turned cold. There was a figure there, close enough that she could almost hear their heavy breathing, feel their presence pressing in on her-
"Sera?"
Seraphina stifled a gasp as a hand touched her shoulder. It was Paul, back with a flask of water, his face etched with worry. "My love, why are you crying?"
"I-I am?" Seraphina's laugh was small and shaky, bordering on hysteria. She reached up to touch her cheek and felt the wetness of a tear. "Sorry, I was just... spacing out, that's all."
Paul's concern deepened, his eyes searching hers for the truth she couldn't bring herself to share. The air was thick with tension, the shadows around them seemingly alive, whispering secrets she dared not acknowledge.
