DISCLAIMER/AN: Hey guys! this little prologue thingy here is going to be a bit of a trigger. It does deal with miscarriage and death. But only slightly and it's not overly descriptive. I just wanted to let you know ahead of time that miscarriage and grief may be a critical theme in this story. I am so sorry in advance if this is a trigger for anyone who reads this. I will try my best to be very aware of the topic. I am always open for a chat if there is any part that should be changed/adjusted so that it is less of a trigger. But I do believe that these sorts of topics need to be written about, whether it be in a serious manner or in a less serious, such as a fanfiction. If something about this story makes you uncomfortable, talk to me about it or to someone that you find to be "safe". Again, it is not my intention to trigger someone, but these things happen.
Thank-you for reading this and understanding in advance!
March 25. A day of celebration and drunken revelry. A day of games and amusement; of masks and dance. A day where the temple of Cybele is home to the sacrifice of an animal and where great plays are held and hoards of people watch in excitement. However, this day would be the end of a new beginning. It would be the separation of one life from another.
A young Grecian woman tumbled through the gathered crowds. Nothing about her was out of sorts. Or so those around her thought. In fact, beneath the long fabric of her chiton, her upper thighs were streaked with blood. As she ran, the young woman clutched at her rounded abdomen, hoping to ease the pain that ripped through her entire body. She stopped suddenly and bent at the waist, grunting. Beneath her, a pool of blood began to form and she began to panic. She reached for the nearest body to clutch onto as she begged for help. The man shook her off and laughed about how the young women couldn't stay away from him on this festive day. She tried to grab at another, this time a woman, for help. Something was happening and she didn't know what to do. She pleaded for not only her life but for the one within her. Again, she was shaken off. No one would believe her when there was nothing but games and jests happening all about them. Again, the young woman crouched and this time she screamed. The crowd around her looked down at the bleeding woman, finally realizing that this was not some jest. By then, however, it was too late. The woman had collapsed. Blood pooled around her staining her once clean chiton red.
