She stood at the edge of the camp, outside the large circle of people who had gathered around the mother-to-be. The mother had suddenly gone into labor as they were making their trek across the forest back towards their winter camping area. Upon the first cry of pain, the scouts had immediately shot out into the forest to scan for any danger and the rest of the small band had moved towards this tiny clearing to help the mother bring their hope and future into this world. All eyes were turned to the poor mother, everyone anxiously awaiting the cries of life that would fill the woods. Of all the people, Caelestis was the only one who refused to even glance towards the woman surrounded by the midwives. The moans and groans that often accompany childbirth sent shivers down her spine and made her cringe. Childbirth was a natural part of life, but it only ever made her feeling like fleeing from the cries of pain. She hated it. She knew that soon, it would be expected of her to lie in the center of a ring of people, midwives scurrying like bees around her, and everyone holding their breath in expectation—and that terrified her even more. It didn't help that she was a useless spectator, either. Everyone else had some kind of role—except Caelestis. She wasn't trained in the ways of midwifery, though her people had tried and found her completely intolerant of puss and mucous; so she couldn't help there. She had failed the tests of the warrior and scouting because of weak physical condition, so she couldn't help there, either. She was useless.
The camp, such as it was, was far more interesting to look at. It had been hastily set in a clearing surrounded by thick trees and a large boulder off to the side that served as a kind of shield from any potential predators or Grimm. It was not an ideal camping ground, the defenses lacking, but there had been little choice. Pushing on to the nearest village had not been an option, according to the midwife. The baby was coming and it wasn't going to wait.
Caelestis shifted her stance as another howl of pain from the mother-to-be echoed through the trees. She cast her gaze to the sky in hopes of a distraction. The bright blue sky offered nothing to her, not even a bird. Sparkling rays of golden sunlight fell between the branches of the forest behind her, carpeting the forest floor with golden patches of light. A brief moment of silence filled the little clearing. She took a deep breath, trying to enjoy the blue sky and peaceful forest scene. Her peace was shattered by one of the loudest groans of pain yet. Instinctively, Caelestis hugged herself and closed her eyes. She had to do something, to help in some way and to distract herself from the blood and pain. Slowly, she began inching back towards the ring of trees behind them, hoping to avoid drawing the attention of anyone near the woman. The Elder was making a circuit of the ring of people, giving instructions to some and offering hope to others with gentle words and short gestures. Caelestis paused where she was and waited until he drew near. Sneaking away without talking to the Elder would bring the anger of the whole clan upon her. She had to give a viable reason for her absence. As soon as the Elder passed by her, she caught his arm. He was a stick of man, almost half her size but with firm, strong arms and legs. His eyes were old, a rare commodity among her people, filled with experience and wisdom that marked his age more clearly than the lines upon his weathered, tan face. He turned his soft, brown eyes upon her and waited for her to place her request.
"They's needin a spark," she said feebly, her voice quivering a slight bit.
"Your season is comin," he replied in a gravelly voice. He always scolded her when she showed discomfort for birthing. "You is shakin with fear. I ken it, yea."
"Yea, I is fearing, but I is mindin the evening comin," she replied honestly. "The air is coolin, Elder. The babe and ma is needin a spark, specially the babe." The Elder considered her words for a long moment, gauging her with his powerful gaze.
"You is hurryin'," the Elder said finally, waving her off into the forest to collect the wood. She bowed her head more to hide her smile of relief than to show respect, then turn and ran into the woods as fast as she could go.
As she ran, her dark, ash-brown hair became tangled in the lower branches, forcing her to slow down and untangle them in frustration. Caelestis carefully dislodged the twigs and leaves that had caught in the strands, and then shook out her hair to make sure nothing small was stuck. She hated her long hair. It was merely a sign of dishonor with her people. Only the warriors and mothers were allowed to sheer their hair to levels that made living in the forest easier: the warriors, because they fought off the Grimm and protected everyone; the mothers, because they brought in and cared for the babies. Both were considered the highest roles within the clan. Her hair was the longest of the people because she had proven her uselessness time and time again. Her weak constitution prevented her from participating and completing the rigorous training of the warriors, and the Elder was still struggling to find a mate for her from one of the other clans. The remainder of her people was trained in basic warrior skills and was useful to the clan in other ways such as carrying things and setting up camp, so their hair was of a descent length to allow them to work. Hers fell to her knees in a long mass of snarls and tangles, a mess of brown that so far only seemed to serve as a bothersome camouflage if she were lucky enough to be among a stand of almost-dead trees.
The Elder had said that it wouldn't be too hard to find a husband for her because she was pleasing to the eyes and had a good heart. Reality had proven otherwise. No one wanted to marry into a dying tribe, no matter the reputation and importance of the tribe to the other clans. Her clan could solve a hundred disputes and bring peace to every clan, and yet none of them would give a son to them, not even to a potential heir to the Elder.
"I is deadweight to the kin," she muttered angrily to herself. "I is nay of good." She sighed in frustration and pressed on, gathering branches and twigs into her arms. She had to constantly twist and shake her head to move her hair and keep it from tangling around her bundle of sticks. "I caint running, I caint fighting..." She kicked a rock angrily into the bushes, and then immediately let out an oath at the pain that shot through her foot. She shook her foot, trying to keep a hold on her bundle of sticks while balanced on one foot. She was sure she looked comical in that stance and berated herself for her vanity. Suddenly, Caelestis stopped moving and turned her eyes to the trees above her. Off in the distance, a bird sang out into the forest, filling the silence with its beautiful song.
"I is needin to stop..." She grabbed another twig and shoved it into her pile. She knew she needed to settle her emotions, and quickly. If she didn't, she would attract a Grimm. That was the last thing her tribe needed.
A strong breeze flitted unexpectedly through the leaves, creating a delicate accent to the gentle song of the birds hidden in the brush and above and causing the dapples of golden light to dance around her. She closed her eyes, letting the music of nature seep into her heart and massage away the anger and frustration at her own failings. Things would work out, she knew they would. The Elder was the best negotiator and mediator of any clan. He would work something out for her. He had already shown interest in training her for taking his place, saying that she might have the potential for Shaman. That was something very rare. A Shaman could also possibly save the tribe, being able to better defend against the Grimm and being held in higher respect than any elder.
But that was in an unseen future; a potential future that may or may not come to pass. The present demanded that everything be done to make sure that this birthing was successful. As the youngest of the tribe, she was looking forward to having little babes to care for and play with. Everyone had thought that there would never be another birth again, but old Maize had suddenly shown lasting fertility before the change that would make her barren. The Elder of the river tribe predicted twins. Twins! Imagine that! If twins were born, her tribe would be saved for sure! They would have a future. Years of Grimm attacks and battles caused by other tribes had taken its toll on her people, whittling them a couple of handfuls of mostly elderly people. If it was twins, they would have a chance to live again. It was the one miracle they had all been praying for.
A sharp, piercing wail shook her out of her reverie and brought her to the present. It was not the wail of a babe taking its first breath of air. It was a piercing, soulful cry that stopped her heart. The wail steadily increased voice by voice, full of despair and pain.
"Nay...nay..." she breathed in horror. The Elder and midwives had all agreed that the babe was healthy and well. It had kicked and moved around—even she had felt it—and the pregnancy had been completely normal. It was impossible for anything to have gone wrong, and yet the keening wails of her kinsmen continued, increasing in intensity and volume. It had been a still birth, something they had not prepared for.
The wailing suddenly shifted in tone, going from the death of soul to the blood-curdling scream of agony, completely shattering the peacefulness of the woods and frightening away the songs of the birds. Grimm.
Caelestis dropped the twigs and branches and took off at a dead run, moving as fast as her legs could carry her. Her chest constricted as she ran, immediately tightening around her ribs and seeming to squeeze the air from her lungs, but she ran on. She made it to a large tree and paused, doubling over with her hand on the rough trunk to keep her balance. Desperately, she gulped in air to her starving lungs and tried to still her pounding heart. Deep, painful coughs shuddered through her body, forcing her to her knees and denying the precious commodity of air that she desired. Already, the shrieks were beginning to lessen voice by voice. Caelestis struggled to pull herself up to her feet again, holding on to the tree for a final moment to gather her courage. Then, she shot recklessly forward to the dying screams and horrible roars that filled her ears. Somehow…somehow she just had to help! She didn't know how or what she could possibly do, but she couldn't stand there and do nothing.
When she finally broke free of the shadow forest and into the brightly lit clearing, she skidded to a halt. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the bright, unfiltered sunlight. Her breathe was coming in desperate gasps, her head spinning slightly from lack of oxygen, and her heart thudding in her chest like a drum. The moment between dark and light seemed to last for an eternity, and when the veil of blindness was lifted from her eyes, she screamed. The horror before her was from the depths of her worst nightmares.
Across the field, half-torn bodies lay scattered like leaves. The ground was slick with blood, entrails, and bits of bones and other substances she had no knowledge of. A pack of beowolves had descended upon the grief-stricken tribe like lightning, tearing and devouring everything in their path. Not far from her, she could see tiny little hands that must have belonged to the infants. Across the field, she saw the elder facing off against the Alpha Beowolf, brandishing the one long knife that her tribe had managed to trade for years ago. He swung the sword, taking off the tip of the finger of the Bewolf. The Beowolf howled savagely and slammed its serrated claws into the chest of the old man. The Elder's head flopped back and rolled until his eyes fell upon her. The light within them was already gone. The field was almost completely silent now, with only one or two figures vellicating among the dead.
Caelestis stumbled back from the gruesome sight, collapsing against an old oak tree at the edge of the field. She could still hear screaming coming from some far-off place. It was echoing in her ears in a constant rhythm, as if unable to silence itself. Wide-eyed and trembling, she tried to pinpoint the source of the screams, hoping against hope that someone had managed to survive. It was a moment before she realized that it was she who was screaming hysterically.
From the center of the carnage, the alpha Grimm raised its spike-laden head and glared at her with burning red eyes. It let out a thundering roar, showing its razor-sharp teeth dripping with blood and saliva. Slowly, it rose on its hind legs to show its full height, the spikes and stone-like armor grinding against each other as it moved. The other beowolves turned to look, let out a few grunts, then promptly ignored her and the alpha in favor of their own meals.
The beast let out another roar, falling to all fours and charging towards her in a murderous frenzy. She was paralyzed with fear, her screams catching in her throat as the creature came at her at full speed. Its maw opened wide, showing her rows of sharp teeth and a tongue smeared with its previous meal. Her fingers dug into the soil beneath her as she pressed herself up against the tree as if begging for its protection. The warriors, the elder, the whole tribe was completely dead. There would be no one coming for her. Time seemed to slow to a painful crawl as the Grimm closed the distance between them. She squeezed her eyes shut, tears filling her eyes. No one would come for her. Only death.