Welcome Fantasy-lovers, to a story that fits your needs. This is the prologue to Generations, a story based off of the genius of Highlander, a 1986 cult film about IMMORTALS! However, I am sure you already know this. Be aware though, since I am trying to be as historically accurate as possible, this story will describe in detail, medical practices used back in the 16th century, some will probably be unbelievable. History buffs are free to rip the story apart and let me know about any historical inaccuracies, big or small. If they don't bother you, then that is okay. Without further ado, here is Generations.
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"Immortality. A toy which people cry for. And on their knees apply for. Dispute, contend, and lie for. And if allowed, would be right proud to die for." - Ambrose Bierce (1842-1914)
West Flanders, 1568
A terrifyingly large thunderstorm loomed over the rolling hills of the farmland. Wheats of yellow were now dirty with mud and flying in the wind. Calm cattle were frantically pushing each other around, trying to get away from the beastly rain. Horses were neighing and grunting loudly, full of fright from the close-proximity lightning. Storms like this were feared in around farm country, especially in the middle of the Spring as this part of Flanders had gotten many tornadoes in the past, and the weather was not afraid to produce one.
But even over the frantic crying and moaning of terrified animals, one noise stook out from the rest. It was a noise of pure pain and suffering. It was a woman's shriek. It was coming from inside of the farmhouse, the thatch roof peeling from the strong wind.
From inside of the house, in the middle of the living room, was a woman, laying on a blanket that lied on the floor. Her husband sat near her, holding her hand. She was being lit up by a row of candles lying on tables and even chairs. She was thrashing around, as if somebody was holding her down. She shrieked as she could feel a sharp pain in her vagina, like if she was trying to pass a rock. The thing was that while she was in pain, she was also very excited. She had been in labor for 9 months, just now getting her wish for a baby.
The lady's husband leaned over close to her, while she looked him in the eye.
"Be strong, Maryanna. From this day forward, we shall remember this day forever as I am afraid this will never happen again," the husband whispered in her ear.
"I plan for it not to. The pain is terrible," Maryanna said to him, tears running down her face.
In the doorway leading into the room, a stood. He wore a heavy-brown coat on top of a paper-thin white cloth shirt. His hair reached as long as his shoulders. He was at a height of 5'10" and had dark red shades over his tanned skin. When he entered the room, her husband looked up and almost fell backwards. He had called the doctor an hour or two before the storm. The problem was that he lived across the County Of Flanders, so it would take sometime to get across there.
"Oh! Dr. Ronaldino! I feared you would never come out in this ghastly weather," he said, excitedly shaking his hand.
"Well John, if the worst comes, I thought I would be here to help," Dr. Ronaldino said. He leaned over her.
"How long has she been in pain?", he asked while ripping her kirtle open with a knife.
"For at least an hour."
"Has this pain been around for a few months?", the doctor asked while feeling around her chest for a pulse.
"I already told you. This is not kidney stones," John said.
"I'm sorry, at time like this I..."
"Forget it. You still are a great man."
Dr. Ronaldino threw the blanket of her body. He looked down into her vagina. He could see that it was starting to expand. The baby was ready to come out.
"Alright, hold her hand. The baby is ready to come out."
Maryanna looked towards John, smiling.
"Maryanna, listen carefully," the doctor said, looking her straight in the eye, "this going to hurt badly, but you need to do everything I say. When I say push, you push as hard as you can. Tell me if you start feeling weak or about to faint."
The reason for this is because during the 1500s to 1600s, 1 in 1.5 percent of women in child labor would die immediately after conceived. Sometimes, women would create their will when they even hear about being pregnant. It certainly was not very simple for doctors either. Doctors would usually have a few helpers with just in case something like this would happen, but since Dr. Ronaldino has to come alone, the process would deem to be much more difficult. If she fainted, he would have to drop everything and try to wake her up while the baby would be suffocating while trying to pull itself out.
"Ready. PUSH!", the doctor yelled. He could see the head of the baby pushing out a little more.
"PUSH! COME ON MARYANNA, YOU CAN DO THIS!"
Maryanna shrieked as she kept pushing. She could feel herself becoming more weak from the pain. The voices yelling at her were now a great octave low. She could feel spreading away from her. She knew she could possibly be dying.
"SHE IS FAINTING DOCTOR! HELP HER GODDAMMIT!", John was yelling at the doctor.
Before she fainted, she did hear the cry of a baby. When she moved her eyes toward her legs. She could see the doctor inspecting her newborn baby.
"It's a boy!", he said.
"Wonderful! Now could you help me here! She fainting!", John yelled.
Maryanna smiled before finally fainting.
OOO
That was the Prologue of Generations. The birth of the immortal. I tried to keep close to what child labor was like back in 1568. If I didn't do a real good job, then tell me. Anyway, next chapter goes into 1968 South Carolina where our main character reaches a Marine outpost to begin training. Next chapter title is unknown at this time. Stay tuned!