Archibald's eyes flickered open, his sleep disrupted by the absence of Circe's warmth next to him. Groggily, the behemoth blinked several times until he found her dark figure in the not-too-distant meadow, wandering aimlessly. He knew by the sway of her hips and the drop to her head that the foal must be coming. He had seen the same actions in her seasons before when she was preparing to deliver Callisto, as well as in Mandrake when she had prepared to deliver his younger brothers. Sighing, Archibald moved towards her, his body a looming shadow even in the darkness. For hours he watched her move all over the meadow, following her silently. Should she request anything, the Dauntless would spring into action. For now, however, he was merely a guardian.

Archibald stood in the sunlit rain, watching as his love struggled on the ground before him. What had he done to her? Had they not been punished enough already? They lost their first child, and now, Archibald wondered if Circe was going to die trying to birth their second. Worry plagued his face, etching lines that would age him years. Lowering his head, Archibald called for Loretta through their mental bond. ”Go to the Hills. Find Lakota. There is something wrong.” Archibald audibly commanded his bitch as she trotted towards him. With a nod, the red and white girl immediately turned heel and galloped towards their once home. The experienced warrior's golden eyes recognized the difficulty before the mare did. Hours later, a limp body dropped from Circe and Archibald lurched forward.

He feared not the shadowmere, even knowing the protectiveness that sometimes stripped away all thinking from a new mother's mind. He saw her too weak to try and attack him, and he wished that Lakota traveled fast. With hurried breaths, Archibald sniffed over the foal. However, the ex-general was taken by surprise when a second foal dropped from Circe's loins. Blinking, Archibald took a bewildered step backwards, allowing Circe to clean his children in the manner all mothers did. Name your sons. Archibald nearly choked on his mate's words, and he looked to her tired slate blue eyes to see if he had heard her correctly. Sons. Twins.

Something akin to pride swelled in Archibald's chest as he moved towards his wiggling, crying babes. Lowering his head, he nuzzled their dark pelts. From their small foreheads poked the nubs that alluded to their unicorn blood. Both of them were large, strong, solid. Their legs were already lightly feathered, their short manes thick. One, a dark charcoal beast, sported a tail very similar to its mother's. The other, black as night, sported front legs of the purest opal, spiraling all the way ove his withers. The Dauntless could explode with the glory of his sons.

"The first one, grey in color, he shall be called Reginald. His brother, dipped in white, shall be known as Abraham. Together they will be feared. Together, they will survive. Together, they will conquer." The words fell from Archibald's mouth without running through his brain. They tasted right. "The sons of Hellion."