Alchimia…

Prefazione

Her name meant "God is gracious". It was bittersweet and fitting; but painfully so. It wasn't until the day she was born that the right name seemed to present itself.

Her mother was bleeding badly and the light was leaving her eyes. Her forehead glistened with sweat and her dark hair was matted to her fair face, as the midwife worked feverishly in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding that could not be stopped. She ground her teeth, bit back a cry of pain and struggled to avoid the white light creeping into her subconscious.

There were bowls of water all around, each of them clouded with blood. Blankets and towels were stained crimson were strewn about on the dingy wooden floor. The scent of panic, death and sorrow were hanging heavily within the modest bedroom.

The baby, who was not five minutes old, was wailing, as though she was somehow acutely aware of what was going on in the room around her and that there was nothing that she could do to save her mother.

"I want to see her…" the woman choked as the midwife bustled around frantically searching for a clean towel.

There was a man in the room as well. Even his leathery, dark Italian skin somehow seemed sallow and stripped of all color. He moved over to his wife and knelt down, cradling their first and only child in his arms. He passed her to the woman who looked at her as though she'd just seen an angel, and the baby's cries quieted after only a few moments in her mother's arms.

"Gianna…" she said, staring down into the baby's dark eyes. Her voice was weak and her eyes looked glassy. "It means 'God is gracious'…"

The man looked at her skeptically, as though there was something he very much wanted to say, but considering the circumstances, he chose to say nothing instead.

"Where there is death…" she looked at him, "There is also life." She said as she looked back down at the child blinking up at her. "God could've taken both of us… but instead, he spared her. And, for that, we should be thankful."

She winced as she leaned to hand the baby girl back to her husband. "She is healthy… and strong." She panted. "And now… I can at last find some rest." She managed a weak smile as she seemed to slide a little further down against the pillows which had been propping her up.

"Alessandra, no…" the man begged, taking her hand.

She looked lovingly at him. "Make sure she knows how much her mother loved her. If she grows up to become half the person that her father is… then she will most certainly make her mother proud."

She seemed to falter. With a look of serenity on her face, her eyes drifted shut; as though she were gently falling asleep. Then nothing. Then peace.

A/N: So - new story. The "plot bunny" got me... A slightly different direction than I usually gravitate towards in my stories. Explanation: Alchimia Italian for "Alchemy"; a form of chemistry and speculative philosophy practiced in the Middle Ages and the Renaissance and concerned principally with discovering methods for transmuting baser metals into gold and with finding a universal solvent and an elixir of life. Prefazione Preface. The language jumps around a little between Italian & English (just for effect) – but everything is translated. See what you think! Please R/R!