Red Sky at Night – Chapter One

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The sun was nearly at its peak, bathing Kakariko village in warm spring light. The hum of the bustling town filled the air, mixed with the calls of cuccos and wildbirds. Market day was in full swing, with traders both local and from afar peddling their wares. The smell of newly baked bread mingled with freshly caught fish and still bubbling elixirs. Children ran, dodging between stalls while parents shopped, bartering over the price of eggs and meat.

Yet to one woman, all this was barely registered as she made her way through the crowds, head down and hidden under a hood, despite the warmth of the day. There were whispers as she passed, pointed looks at her swollen abdomen that she tried to ignore as she walked as quickly as she could to the other side of the village. Why today? On any other day it would have been much quieter, her chances of going unnoticed so much greater. She bit her lip, biting back tears.

She made it out of the town centre just in time, grabbing a nearby tree as the next contraction hit. Gasping, forcing herself to breathe, she rested her head against the rough bark and waited for it to pass, before finding the will to carry on again. "Please," she murmured, rubbing her belly. "Wait just a bit more."

By the time she arrived at the old woman's house, she was sweating and nauseous. The woman, Triska, was no healer, yet had assisted in the birth of many of the village children over her long life. With shaking hands she knocked on the door, praying to the Goddess that Triska would help.

The door, once blue but now brown and faded from age, creaked open. An old lady, her face lined with deep wrinkles, looked out at her - and frowned. "There is nothing for you here, Medilia," she said, shaking her head. "You must leave."

"Please!" The young woman pulled down her hood, trying to keep Triska's attention. "Please. The healers won't help me. No one will help me. I know... I know what you think of me, what they all do... but if not for me, for my child. They are innocent in this and should not suffer for my misdeeds." She was crying, desperate, as she reached out to take the old woman's wrist. "Please. I'm begging you. Help us."

There was a pause, too long to be comfortable as Triska looked at her deeply, dark eyes narrowed in thought. Then, at last, the old lady stepped aside, allowing the desperate woman in. She motioned to a chair and let her sit.

With a groan, Medilia sank into the chair.

"How far apart are the pains?" Triska asked, wrinkled hands probing at the significant bump.

"Some thirty minutes... a little less now." She'd tried to keep track, but her distress and desperation had distracted her.

"Hmm." The examination continued, the woman's hands feeling and assessing the bump, until finally she nodded. "I'll not birth a bastard child here. There's time enough. Go home, I'll be along presently."

Medilia sagged in relief, even though the thought of walking all the way back was not pleasant. She would not be alone, even disapproving company was better than none. "Thank you..." she whispered, getting to her feet with effort. "I... thank you." She pulled her hood back up, moving slowly to the door. "I'll try not to be a bother." Pulling the door closed behind her, she pretended not to hear the snort of derision.

Walking home, she let her mind wander. It wasn't supposed to be this way. Her fault, Perhaps, for giving in to her desires, to laying with her love before they were wed. But it had been so good, and he had been so sweet. When she'd told him she was carrying his child he'd been delighted and started making immediate plans to marry.

She paused, as both contractions and memories overwhelmed her. That was how he'd died. Travelling to Hateno Village in search of the perfect cloth for her dress, he'd happened upon several Lizaflos attacking a family and had tried to help. They'd escaped, but her love had died protecting them. Stupid, heroic man. He'd always been like that, needing, wanting to help. Her dear Arn, how she missed him. Perhaps their child would take after him.

It was with immeasurable relief that she finally arrived back at their small house. Her feet and back ached from the exertion and the contractions were getting closer. She managed to make tea and tidy a bit, before giving in and taking to bed, to wait.

Xxx

The old woman, much to Medilia's relief, was true to her word, arriving with elixirs and herbs to help the labour pains. Despite her feelings for Medilia, she was calm and quiet, reminding her to breathe and offering sips of cool water. It was a relief for Medilia as the hours drew on and the sky darkened. Beads of sweat were mopped from her brow as she strained, pushing when her body demanded it.

Outside, something seemed wrong, but the drapes were closed and she couldn't tell what it was. She tried to block it out, to focus on bringing her child into the world. There was no hand to hold for her, so she gripped a small stuffed horse, that Arn had brought for their child just a week before he died, and thought of him. Of his smile, his laugh, his joy when he touched her belly. Of how much he'd wanted a family, with her in this village. It eased her pain and her cries as she pushed, straining, until at last she screamed and pushed her child out into the world.

"There..." There was a feeling of odd emptiness as the old woman pulled the baby the rest of the way. She should have felt relief but she couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

It took a moment to realise what it was was. Silence.

"My baby..." the old woman had not passed her the child. Why? Oh please, no... not after everything. This child was all she had.

"The cord is around the neck," came Triska's short response. Medilia could only wait helplessly as the woman went to work, cutting the cord without ceremony and breathing into the tiny mouth. She suppressed slight surprise that the disapproving old lady cared enough to do that, but perhaps she really had understood that the child was innocent in this mess.

The wait seemed to last forever, though was two minutes at the most. Yet at last she heard what she'd feared she never would - a weak, reedy cry. "Oh..." her voice broke and she reached out, desperate to hold her child at last.

"It is a boy..." the old woman told her, as she wrapped him and placed him in his mother's arms.

Medilia fought back tears as she finally held him close against her chest, so small but alive despite it all, and she kissed his head, with its dusting of pale hair. "Thank you..."she tried to clear her vision, to look at him better. Soft, blonde hair, eyes still blurry but showing hints of blue in their depths. The same as his father's. And oh, he was small. So small, but, though few knew it, he was nearly three weeks before she'd expected him.

Yet below the perfect face, lurked a less pleasant sight. His throat was red and raw from the cord, a bruise already showing on the virgin skin. "How long?" Fear grew within her again, that the air had been too long from his lungs. Even now, a touch of blue lingered on his fingertips and toes.

"Impossible to say," the woman replied. "Might've been a bit, might've happened when he was coming out. You'll have to wait to see if he's... right." She shook her head, muttering something. "You've a name?"

Stroking the soft hair, Medilia nodded. "Link. After the hero of old and because... he is my last link to my dear Arn."

The woman frowned. "No good can come of that name. But he is cursed already so I suppose it matters little." She looked down at the boy nestled in his mother's embrace. "There will be no rest for him. No peace, not even in death." She crossed the room and drew the drapes. The sky, not black but a deep, crimson red, flooded the room. High above, the moon itself sat, glowing and ominous.

Medilia gasped, her grip on her child tightening as tears burned in her eyes. No, it wasn't fair. Would nothing go their way? But the old woman was right she knew. There was no peace for a child born under a Blood Moon.