It was autumn, before the first lights of day hit the island. A young woman lay on her back, watching the beautiful sky. The stars seemed to be glowing even brighter than ever before. They seemed to be glowing for her, telling her that she could do this.
Her name was Jade, but it was possible that nobody would know her name on this island. Her old island had driven her out without any food or drink, and Jade knew she was dying. And she also knew that she wouldn't survive giving birth.
She had already had one child, and he was curled up next to Jade, a cold, shivering mess. She tried to give him her warmth, but her mind was on different things. Such as the pain.
Letting out a strangled half-cry, half-scream, she stared at the stars, willing them to just kill her now, to just get on with it. A sudden, soft spear of pain made her gasp, taking the wind out of her.
As the stars glowed even more, though now they seemed to be taunting her, she pushed, and a little baby girl slithered onto the sand, crying. Jade used a sharp rock to cut the umbilical cord and cradled the little girl, singing softly.
She'd already picked a name for this one, and she reached into her pack, bringing out a small stone tablet on a rough leather cord. The tablet was engraved with the girl's name. Jade fastened it around her daughter's neck. It was long on her now, but she'd grow into it eventually. She fell back onto the sand, exhausted. She knew she wouldn't make it.
Before she could even think to try to get her children to safety, Jade, the brave, the beautiful, the strong, was dead.
Her children's cries went unheard to everyone, for the few who were not yet asleep were watching the sky. The stars and the moon were glowing most beautifully, and those who were watching whispered to each other that this must be a sign, because things like this usually were.
But as the girl cried for her mother, the older son, who was only two years of age, gently picked his sister up and held her as they sat and waited with their mother for help to come to them.
High up in Swanshore Tower, Brother Noir noticed something moving on the beach. The priest was old, but his sharp eyes rarely missed a thing. He decided to keep watching.
Below, from another window, Fredric Hawthorne stretched forward to see the skies better. He was a bit young to be living in the tower, only two years old yet, but his father had worked there as an attendant to King Xavier. When his father died, Fredric had taken up residence in the Tower.
Fredric craned his neck to see out the window. Then he, too, saw something on the beach. More agile that Brother Noir, he leaped out the window, breaking his fall by jumping onto other window ledges on his way down. Brother Noir saw Fredric leaping down and followed suit, though he himself used the stairs. Brother Noir felt a responsibility to keep Fredric out of trouble. He had been teaching the boy to read for a while, now.
Fredric was already bounding toward the water's edge. He stopped abruptly once he saw what it was, though. Brother Noir hobbled as fast as he could to Fredric.
"What it is, young Fredric?"
Fredric couldn't answer. Staring, transfixed, at the two children and their dead mother, all he could do was make a sort of gasping sound, sucking in air. Brother Noir stopped behind him. "Oh, my…"
The older one was holding a baby, staring, openfaced at the two newcomers. Brother Noir knelt. He held out a shaking hand, probably to bless them, Fredric supposed. After a moment of silence, though, the older one, who had previously been awake, lay down and closed his eyes.
Brother Noir picked up the smaller one and gave her-Fredric checked it was a her so he wouldn't embarrass himself-to Fredric. Fredric rocked her absentmindedly, still staring at the corpse of the dead mother.
"What do you think…you know…happened?" He stuttered as Brother Noir picked up the older one. Brother Noir inspected the boy, then the girl, then the mother, occasionally making 'hmmm' sounds. Fredric waited, tapping his foot impatiently.
"What is it?" He asked again. Brother Noir looked up. "They're not from here," he said finally.
That was a first. It was almost impossible to get to Swanshore Island. Fredric looked closer and saw that Brother Noir was right.
While on Swanshore Island the people all had brown hair, brown eyes, and dark skin, this family (including the deceased mother) had red hair and fair skin. He couldn't see their eyes, as they were closed.
"The boy has light eyes. I'm not sure about the others," Brother Noir said, as if reading Fredric's mind.
Light eyes! This family was nothing like the people of Swanshore. How were they going to explain them to the islanders? Though loyal and kind to most, the people of Swanshore Island didn't react well to newcomers.
Fredric frowned. "What are we going to do with them?" He asked finally. "We can't bring them up in the Tower. They need a mummy."
Brother Noir chuckled. "It's alright. I know exactly what to do with them."
Fredric nodded, getting excited now. "What are we calling them?" He asked, excited at the prospect of picking names.
"They have necklaces with their names on them. Quite useful, really. The mother was a practical woman, I assume." He smiled kindly at Fredric. "The boy's name is Juniper."
Fredric looked down at the sleeping baby girl, only a little bit disappointed. For a moment, the skies glowed brighter, making light flash off of the stone tablet on her neck. He looked up at Brother Noir, who was looking at him expectantly.
"Willow," he said quietly. "Her name is Willow."
And as young Fredric and Brother Noir walked away, slowly, softly, the waves picked up Jade, rocked her once, twice, three times, and carried her gently away.