CHAPTER 20: ONE MORE IN HER HEARTH.

The dust of Chogha Zanbil still clings to their clothes. The children are laughing, climbing, and exploring. But Roshan stays close to Humelynn.

They returned to the Star Of The Morning later that day. The kids and the adults were seated at the mess hall with Skölla and her cubs for a lovely dinner consisting of Chelow kabab, served with saffron rice and grilled vegetables. Pair it with doogh, a refreshing yogurt drink, and finish with baklava for a sweet ending touch.

Luminor was static, seeing so much love and dedication and patience with so many kids, Arca walking among them as Ela picked plates after the meal, while Roshan was very close to Humelynn all the time. Noah noticed; he always does. His eyes do not pass by…

Later that night, while in orbit, the kids saw Earth from far above. He held her hand strongly, and she looked back into his eyes. “If you have something to say, my sweet love, say it. I see you as you see me.” Noah said, “I agree with you; just do it. I am so proud of you.”

She walked away, looking for Roshan. He was mesmerized by the view; he did not notice her approaching, and she put her arm over his shoulder while looking back to Noah. She noticed Ela smile, looking at her with a nod of full approval.

Then she knelt beside him, her violet eyes meeting his grey ones.

“Roshan,” she says softly. “I have been thinking about something.”

He tilts his head, curious. “What?”

“I have two daughters,” I know, is Ela and Arca, he replies fast, and she continues. “And I love them more than the stars we see out there. But I think... I think there might be room for one more.”

He doesn’t understand at first. His eyes search her face, looking for the meaning behind the words.

“What do you mean?” he whispers.

She reaches out, her hand cupping his cheek, warm and solid and real. “I mean, Roshan... would you like to be my son?”

The world stops. The wind holds its breath. The ziggurat listens.

And then, the tears come. Not from grief this time. From something else. Something that has been frozen for so long it doesn’t have a name.

But before he speaks, he pulls back slightly. His gaze shifts from Humelynn’s violet eyes to the table behind them. He looks at Noah, who offers a slow, steady nod—a silent benediction from the patriarch. He looks at Ela, whose silver circuitry glows with a soft, welcoming warmth, and at Arca, who smiles with the fierce pride of an older sister. He looks at Kael and Thalor, standing guard not as soldiers, but as uncles.

He is not just being adopted by a woman. He is being invited into a tribe.

Satisfied, he turns back to Humelynn. He throws his arms around her neck, burying his face in her shoulder, and he doesn’t say “yes.” He says something better.

He says, “Can I call you ‘Mama’?”

“Yes, my son. You can always call me Mama. And now you are part of the Alondar family. You are Roshan Alondar…”

She felt proud, maternal, and protective of that boy, and Ela, Luminor, Noah, and Arca were in deep ecstasy inside them.

Then Aurelia made the call, her voice gentle but firm through the ship’s comms. “Come on, kids, time to bed.”

They all walked to the sleeping quarters, the excitement of the day finally giving way to the heavy, sweet pull of exhaustion. They showered, washing away the dust of Khuzestan and the weight of history, and slept better than they ever had before.

In the quiet dark of his bunk, Roshan lay still, his hand resting over his heart where the rhythm felt steady and sure. He murmured to himself, the words a soft mantra against the silence:

“I am Roshan. I am nine years old. I am Roshan Alondar.”

With that thought, his eyes closed, and he slept deep and happy, held safe in the hull of the Star of the Morning, drifting among the stars that now bore his name.