Mr. and Mrs. Lumihee lived in a small apartment in Doleville, a crowded little village that seemed to always be a little darker than it had seemed from the roads coming up to it, and if asked they would say their lives were perfectly normal, despite popular opinion. Neighbors said that their house seemed even darker than the rest of the town and that they, particularly Mrs. Lumihee, always seemed up to something suspicious. However, the couple would argue there was nothing at all to be suspicious about.

Mr. Lumihee worked as an accountant not far from their home and usually came home either happy to complain about work or pleasantly buzzed from a tavern he passed on the way home. He was a stocky man who seemed to have the potential to be very happy doing work outdoors somewhere, though he was a bit too uptight for what he was built for and wore suits and his mousey brown hair slicked back even on weekends. Mrs. Lumihee, on the other hand, rarely left the home and many people hardly had any memories of what she looked like at all. One of the few things that neighbors marked as out of place was that they had no children, but that would change soon, since they were due for their first child any day.

Even though Mr. Lumihee was happily typical in every manner, the neighbors were right to be suspicious of his wife. She lived every day wishing for a life she never had, and even though she seemed normal, she had a secret she hoped no one would ever discover. Especially Mr. Lumihee, who prided himself on living a very average life. She couldn't bear it if he found out about her life as a Nott, her family before she had been left at an orphanage as a child, or if anyone from the world that had shunned her found her living in Doleville. She shuddered to think what anyone that knew the Notts would say if they saw how she lived now. Sometimes when she was home alone she thought that by now she might even have a nephew, and her baby would have a cousin to play with, but she shook thoughts like that away when they came. That child would only be as cruel to her baby as children had been to her, and she didn't want her baby having to deal with pain like that.

One particularly gloomy Monday, Mrs. Lumihee awoke just before her husband to find the occasional stirring in her belly had gotten more frequent and hummed and pet it as if to sooth the child within, her eyes closed contently. Mr. Lumihee woke up soon after and picked out a suit for work, humming a conflicting song over her lullaby.

Neither of them noticed the light silver sparks that seemed to appear wherever Mrs. Lumihee pet her stomach.

By eight o'clock, Mr. Lumihee bent to kiss both his wife and her belly goodbye, chuckling a little when he felt a foot kick his cheek, but stopped when heard what distinctly sounded like firecrackers going off from within. He seemed stunned for a second, as if he wasn't sure if he had really heard it, but when he listened again he only heard the soft sounds of the baby shifting inside his wife's womb.

"Everything alright, dear?" asked Mrs. Lumihee in her soft voice.

"Yes...just listening to the baby, sweetness," he replied, moving back and thinking he could hear a soft humming like something electrical being turned on. However he shook the thought from his mind and went to work, thinking about the first account he would have to deal with and contemplating what drink he would grab on the way home.

Mrs. Lumihee, left to her own devices, steadily became more aware of how close the baby's time was getting. As she ate breakfast she began burping up what looked like the same sparks that her stomach had produced earlier at her touch, too close to her mouth for her to notice anything more than an annoying tingling around her lips, though the more she ate the more vibrant the sparks looked. In fact if anyone had happened to pass by the window that morning, they would have seen what appeared to be Mrs. Lumihee impersonating a firecracker and getting better and better at it as she tried, but she was soon finished and moved on to what she had to do that day.

The only activities Mrs. Lumihee was allowed to do were ones that omitted any bending or vigorous movement, so she was stuck with washing the dishes and dusting until the baby was born. Which was perfectly fine with her. It meant Mr. Lumihee wasn't so critical of her cleaning and had to do to whatever was bothering him himself. As she worked, her back to the window, she didn't notice the owl that flew past and dropped a letter at her doorstep; the neighbor's children did though, and let out several excited cries and pointed to the bird as it flew off. Mrs. Lumihee, on the other hand, had a normal morning and was in a very good mood considering she was starting to get sharp pains every so often. That is, until she decided to grab some ice cream from the shop down the street.

"Mrs. Lumihee! Mrs. Lumihee! You got mail!" one of the neighbor's children shouted, a rosy cheeked girl about three.

"Don't be silly, dear, he shouldn't be here for hours," Mrs. Lumihee chastised gently, making her waddling way to her car.

"It wasn't the mailmain," said the other child, a towheaded girl of six. "A bird brought it."

Mrs. Lumihee stopped dead, fear overcoming her. She looked to the children as if she wanted to say something to them, but instead hurried back inside as fast as she could, pushing the letter in with her with her foot.

She cried out the window to the now calling children to forget about the letter and had almost opened it before she seemed to change her mind. She brought it to her room instead and sat with it a moment, thinking…she was being silly. There must have been a mistake bringing her this letter. Come to think of it, the children hadn't said what bird had brought it; it could be one of the pigeons a man down the street had been trying to train. There was no reason to write to her. None at all. And there was no point in even looking at the thing and upsetting herself, especially with the baby so close…but all the same, if it was from one of them…

She found it harder to move from her bed that afternoon and the pains got still worse, and she had only just put the letter back in her hiding place under the mattress when her husband arrived from work. She was determined not to mention it to him.

Mr. Lumihee had had a lovely, average day. He was in a good enough mood to even order take out, since Mrs. Lumihee hadn't cooked dinner, and ate with her in bed as he talked about how Mr. Know-Nothing had fouled up a client's account and how he had met an old friend at the bar. Mrs. Lumihee tried to act normally and smile or laugh lightly at the right parts.

When he returned from the kitchen again the pains had gotten nearly unbearable, and she knew that her time had come when he jumped back and asked how the bed had gotten wet. He went to get the car keys, but after several attempts to get her standing she knew it was no use. She'd have to say something to him. She swallowed nervously. "Er—Damien, dear—I don't think I can make it to the hospital."

As expected, Mr. Lumihee looked frustrated and angry. Normally she went along with whatever he wanted.

"What? Why?" he asked sharply.

"Well I can't really get up," Mrs. Lumihee mumbled, "and I can feel her starting to shift around more in there…"

"So?" snapped Mr. Lumihee.

"Well I'm working it out and…if we try to get there…I'll probably end up having her on the car seat."

Mr. Lumihee's jaw had gotten very stiff looking. He loved his car more than anything, and wouldn't dare to risk getting anything birth related in the passenger's seat. "Alright…I suppose it can't be helped."

"Right, dear…"

Mr. Lumihee got some towels and warm water and Mrs. Lumihee got herself settled, now clearly able to see her belly glowing like she had swallowed a flashlight. She was grateful when it stopped before her husband returned, but as soon as she started pushing, there was no way to hide the light that shone off of the child bit by bit as she was born. By the time Mrs. Lumihee was holding the baby she was shining like the sun, and when the infant stopped crying and opened her eyes small stars burst forth from her dark eyes like fireworks.

"What in God's name is wrong with her?!" Mr. Lumihee shouted, pale as a ghost.

Mrs. Lumihee, however, was crying tears of joy. "Nothing, she…she's perfect, Damien! She's more than perfect! Our little baby is a witch!"

"What on Earth are you talking about, Mallory?!"

"She's just born and already she's magic…she's so beautiful…!"

"She's a freak, that's what she is! Why aren't you concerned?!"

"Oh Damien, don't you see? Our baby is a witch, a member of the magical world…our baby is special and wonderful and unique! Isn't it wonderful?!"

"…I need a drink," Mr. Lumihee murmured. He turned on his heel and soon a door slam and the revving of his car's engine signaled his departure.

It seemed unnoticed by Mrs. Lumihee, who lay silent and happy with her shining daughter as she blinked tears from her eyes. The baby simply looked at her and cooed until she fell into a light sleep. The glow finally faded and she looked like any other baby, not knowing she was special or wonderful or unique. Her mother watched too, not knowing she would realize hours later that her husband wasn't returning, nor that she would spend the next few weeks inconsolable save for her sweet and special baby…all she knew was at that very moment, she was the happiest she had been since she was a child, and she whispered to the sleeping baby, "My little Alazne...the girl who shone."