Book I: BORN IN DEATH

By: NEVAEVA

Chapter three: STORM'S EMBRACE

Cold. Wet. Dark… And rather dejected - Raya was not gracious to the lands of Emriell that night.

It's been several hours since the sun had set over the snow-tipped mountain ridge, its spiky peaks appearing more daunting than ever. Cold wind howled in the valley, drowning out the usual sounds of night life. This unwelcoming weather wasn't uncommon for Zatok, a small village sprawled in the middle-of-nowhere. Zatok was the last point that resembled civilized living at the foot of the mountain pass. There weren't many new faces here, not too often in any case. A lone traveler might have made a stop there a few times a year, or a trade caravan could pass through in late spring. Those seeking adventure would resupply and rest before the road took them through White Dirt - the very aptly named mountain ridge - and out the other side to the Great Tribe Deserts, or more precisely to the lands of Two Crow.

But, as it turns out, taking that unstable and perilous path through the mountain was an especially silly idea this time of the year. Normally, Zatok didn't see any strangers in late October, not till the snow melted and the slippery pale ground of the mountain passage hardened up again under the hot summer sun.

That night, however, it wasn't a local lurking in the shadows two miles away from the outskirts of the village. It was a stranger, a newcomer, searching the ground near a patch of scarce vegetation that covered the hill-side. He was dressed in a once expensive, durable white cloak, now aged by wear and tear; knee-high laced leather boots; leather trousers with a simple cotton shirt tucked in; a large oil-treated satchel over his shoulder. He wasn't neat nor tidy, his clothes stained with white mud, dust, rain, and sweat. He didn't seem to pay much mind to it, though, or the bone-chilling wind and rain that pelted at his back. He was concentrated on one task and one task only, his movements quick and precise and he leaned down, knelt, and ruffled the ground with his gloved hands. Tetri was lost in search.

Finally, as the rigid moon rose in a momentarily clear sky, he'd found it. 'Such a fragile little thing', he thought to himself as he examined his find, 'but truly invaluable'. He held the plant up to the moonlight, its long white leaves glistening in the rain. It wasn't easy, finding a young sprout of Belaya this time of the year, even more so since its alabaster leaves blended in all-too-well with the color of the sandy, rocky ground. A triumphant smile played on his lips as he quickly hid the sprout inside his satchel, retracing his steps to the nervously pacing horse he'd left tied to a tree at the edge of the shrubbery.

But his victory was short lived and the mood quickly soured, his thoughts speeding ahead of him to one of the huts in Zatok. He'd left someone there, cradled in warmth and relative safety, but the gnawing feeling of dread settled deeply within his stomach, urging him forward as he galloped back to the village.

'Raya help us...' Tetri thought to himself, looking up at the angry skies above. Once upon a time he'd pray to the easily angered Lucatero the Aspect of Weather, and to the calm and collected Bayani the Aspect of Moon and Stars, and of course to Anwaar - the God of Gods himself. He'd ask them to make his journey safe and look after him and his companion in these dire times. It would've made him feel better, knowing that the Gods were on his side. 'The old Gods are silent,' he reminded himself, his thighs squeezing the sides of his horse as he guided it through the onslaught of rain, 'The Gods have no hand in this nor would they care. May Raya itself help us...' he continued to pray silently, wondering if his eforts would make a difference. He was brimming over with impatience, his face awash with rain and worry.

He couldn't let her down. Not when her very life depended on him... hers and her unborn baby.

…Your efforts are wasted on a lost cause – she is already gone… You know this to be true…

Ignoring such despairing thoughts, Tetri pushed on, guiding his mount against the rain and wind, his heart with the woman he'd left in the village. He didn't seem to notice that he was soaking wet, his hood torn and thrown off his head. His long dark hair whipped in the wind, its wet ends slicing at the skin on his face and neck. He was used to harsh weather, having spent his childhood in Two Crow Desert, infamous for its barren grounds that stretched for thousands of miles on the other side of White Dirt. People often guessed him to be a Two Crow – a filthy thief, a freeloader, a teller of lies. He figured that a few things gave away his origin. His slight, lean build, olive skin and almond-shaped amber eyes, to name a few.

It wasn't easy to not let others' ignorance affect him, not to allow them to twist who he was or who he wished to be. Hate came easy, he knew that much… forgiveness did not. He also knew that not all strangers judged a book by its cover – she certainly did not. He often mused to himself that, were the circumstances any different, she might have been so much more to him. He hoped that someday she'd look at him and realize that he's more than just a servant, more than a low-ranked mage, more than just a boy in his late teens. He wouldn't dare imagine just what she might think of him in time, but the very notion of being a part of their little impromptu family made him warm inside.

All romantic thoughts left him, however, when he finally reached Zatok and weaved his way through the narrow streets to the familiar house. It was a pitiful construction, with dirty mud walls and a straw roof that threatened to be torn off at the next gust of wind. But against all odds the hut held up to the weather, and what was more important – it was private. Inconspicuous. No one would think of looking for her here.

"I'm back, my Quee…" Tetri blurted out, but quickly stopped and bit his tongue when he saw that there were other people in the room. Two old village women stared at him suspiciously, whispering something to each other as they glanced at the woman in labor and back at the young man. "It's alright, Lady Aana, I found what I was looking for."

"Tetri… Thank the Gods you've made it. It's getting worse."

Her voice was low and weak, but she didn't cry. She was her stubborn self and never cried once, not from a broken heart nor from the pain that shot through her lower back like searing hot iron. She was half-seated half-lying on a blanket thrown over a pile of straw, its golden strands smudged with blood. She was bleeding slowly but steadily, a sure sign that this birth was not normal, complicated in more ways than one.

"Thank you for watching over her," he mumbled as he dropped a silver piece into each woman's hand, ushering them out. "I'll take it from here."

"But milady…. She in need of a proper midwife, she is…" the older woman protested, not liking this situation one bit. No man should be present at childbirth. It's simply unheard of… so improper.

"I said I got it," Tetri raised his voice ever so slightly, annoyed now with the village folk's meddling in his affairs. His and Aana's. He quickly took off his boots, gloves, and cloak, shaking whatever rain and dirt he could off his breeches before he kneeled at Aana's side. "I will need more hot water and clean cloth, please," he continued, not about to relinquish the control of the situation. "And clean drinking water, too. You have nothing to worry about – I know what I'm doing."

…You most certainly do not…

Sure, he'd seen barn animals give birth before – cows and sheep and the like – he'd even assisted with it before. But never a woman. Never Aana. How much different could it be, though? 'It'll be fine… I'll do fine. And she'll be just fine. Both of them will be fine, fine, fine,' he chanted to himself as he examined her pained face, searching her pale hazel eyes for reassurance. Even now, she was so beautiful to him. He didn't mind that her hair was oily and drenched in sweat as he brushed it off her face, that her eyes were deep and tired with anticipation of another wave of pain. He held her clammy hand for just a moment before he stood up and walked to a table full of flasks with various liquids and oils, bags of herbs, small precision scales, and a mortar with pestle.

"Sorry it took so long, I'm nearly finished," he reassured her, not taking his eyes off his work as he slowly groud up the sprout he'd collected. He added Belaya mush to the concoction he'd prepared earlier and stirred it, pleased with the color turning white like it was supposed to.

"Tetri…" Aana called again. He watched silently as her nails dug into the palms of her hands when the next contraction passed through her. "Why is this happening now? It's too early…"

"I don't know, my Queen," he said kindly, calmly, hoping to reduce her anxiety. "But it is happening and it's happening fast. I still believe that everything happens for a reason and that Raya will keep us safe. The best thing you can do now is to stay calm and drink this."

He brought the mug to her lips and she drank it in one big gulp, not saying a word of complaint about its foul taste. She was stubborn; she was a fighter and a survivor. If anyone could make it through this, it was her.

The old village woman returned shortly with water and cloths, like Tetri asked. She didn't linger, muttering something under her breath about no-good Two Crow hexes when she glanced again at the suspicious vials and flasks on the table, and at their owner. None of this was right or proper, none of it…

It was another three hours of labor. Thankfully, whatever Tetri cooked up for Lady Aana worked wonders. Not only did the bleeding stop, but she was able to pass the time in relative comfort, her body feeling numb below the waist. Neither of them spoke much. He cleaned himself up and put on some fresh clothes, put away his potion making tools, changed her sheets and made sure she had everything she needed. He was mad with worry. Worry and guilt - how dare he fantasize about a romantic scenario when she was doubling up in pain. He didn't show his misgivings, but she knew that he was worried by the way he kept himself busy. He didn't look her in the eye for fear that she might see, didn't talk to her much so that his voice wouldn't betray him. But they both knew—there was something wrong with her and the child.

No baby is ready to see the world just three months after conception.

"I think it's time," he announced after a time with a warm smile as he reached down under his Mistress's tunic, feeling the baby's head crown, "I know it must hurt a lot more now but we're almost there. Push hard, my Lady... and again, push!" He was beside himself with joy.

She didn't cry nor scream, following Tetri's instruction to the best of her ability. There was no one in the world she trusted more than him. She knew that no matter what, he'd be there for her and her baby. She gasped and panted, her insides burning as she pushed harder than before. She couldn't see nor hear well, a haze clouding her eyes and a low buzing noise distorting Tetri's words of encouragement. She didn't know whether it was from strain or the medicine he'd given her, but she didn't care. She just wanted this to be over, she wanted for that pressing pain to stop and to hold her child in her arms. Alive and well.

Finally, with the last push that took nearly all of her remaining strength, the baby slid out into Tetri's waiting hands. It took its first real breath and screamed its little lungs out.

"It's a girl," Tetri said softly, cradling the newborn in his arms and gently wiping her wrinkled red skin clean with a wet towel. "She's beautiful, she really is."

Aana fell back into the pile of straw, exhausted but overflown with glee, smiling as she took the infant into her arms, brought her to her breast and let her suckle peacefully. It was the happiest day of her life. Aana sighed with relief, amused by the 'proud father' look on Tetri's face as he watched the mother and daughter bond for the first time.

"I'll name her Julia. Julia Stallard," Aana said quietly, wondering who else might be listening through the thin mud walls. It wouldn't be safe to say her real name aloud – Julia Stallard-Bane. She didn't want to advertise who she really was, or the child's relationship to the King Lehi Bane.

"Now that the baby's here, ahead of time but thankfully healthy..." Tetri said with a frown, examining what little gold and belongings they had left, "where do we go from here? You can't keep running forever. It wouldn't be fair to her... to Julia."

"I know, Tetri, I know...I do want to make it right," Aana mumbled with a sigh, her eyelids heavy with sleep and her voice hollow. "I'm just too tired to think right now. So very tired..." She pulled the infant from her breast and touched her little fisted hands, letting those tiny fingers wrap around hers. Julia wasn't happy. She wrinkled her face in displeasure and started screaming again, demanding more food. But Aana didn't seem to be bothered by the noise her daughter made, receding deeper into the bed and closing her eyes, her head falling limply to the side.

What happened next made Tetri's blood run cold, terror squeezing his chest and stomach as he watched, powerless to do anything. Julia was still nestled on Aana's chest, her hands still squeezing her mother's finger. Faint glow emanated from where their skins touched, as if exchanging life force itself. Only... it wasn't a fair exchange. Julia's whole body soon began to glow, so bright that Tetri instinctively shielded his eyes. Sharp ringing sound pierced his ears as he stood there frozen, his mind not being able to cope with what he saw and heard. He could feel a wave of heat coming from the newborn as she continued to wail and squeeze her mother's hand. It was over before he realized he'd forgotten to breathe, the room soon returning to the way it was before. But not everything returned to normal...

Aana was dead.

"NO!.." Tetri screamed but the sound that left his lips was barely a whisper, "No, no, no! This can't be right... It's not possible!" He cried silently as he tried to shake the woman awake, his eyes blurry with tears as he studied her face for a sign of life. He shook her more and more violently, slapped her face and tried smelling salts. Nothing worked - she wasn't breathing. She really was dead. He'd never seen a dead body before. Not with the head still attached, that is. No one has. Not even Two Crow elders could say that they have, and they lived to be over a hundred years old. It was a terrible miracle...

She was the first person to die by separation of body and spirit in over three centuries.

Finally, Tetri accepted the fact that Aana wasn't going to wake. With shaky hands, he quickly gathered up his belongings and stared at the child, now peacefully asleep next to her mother's body. He was afraid. He was terrified of this one-hour-old creature. All his instincts screamed at him to turn around and leave, as the persistent voice in his head urged him to do at is says.

…Leave this thing alone…Let the villagers snap its neck and chop off its head before it's too late… Before it kills you too!..

He wiped the tears off his face and turned around, ready to run out the door, jump on his horse and ride as far away as he can before exhaustion brings him down, but... He couldn't. He cared for Aana and Julia before she was even born; he'd made a promise to keep them safe, to make things right. What kind of a man would he be if he let an infant turn promises into lies, honor into cowardice?

He put on his boots and gloves, flung the satchel over his shoulders and grabbed Aana's cloak. Even through the howl of the wind and the patter of rain against the window, he could hear that something was up outside. A commotion. People running and screaming, flashes of light as the villagers readied lamps and torches. He knew that they must have been watching the house; they were suspicious the second they saw two strangers arrive at Zatok in the off-season. And now this - a screeching baby, blinding light, and a dead woman in bed. Tetri knew that nothing good could come of it when the locals discovered all this. He had to leave, and leave quickly.

Carefully, he wrapped Julia into her mother's cloak, glanced one final time at the face of the woman he adored, fighting the urge to just fall asleep beside her forever. But the little warm bundle in his arms demanded his protection and he steeled his heart. 'I'll mourn you later', he thought, his free hand quickly readying the horse for a long ride, 'I'll take care of your daughter, like I promised you I would. I'll make it right for both of you, even if it kills me... if SHE kills me.'

Tetri looked out into the night, deciding which way to go next. The passage through White Dirt lay north, with the lands of his people on the other side. They would've been safe there - that's where Aana and he were headed before. But not now, not with an infant on his hands and not in a rainy season, with winter just around the corner. He turned his horse south-west, back the way they came. There was another town that they'd passed before but didn't stop at, not even a day's ride from here. Tetri didn't know its name; these villages were small enough that they weren't on the map of the region. Just knowing which direction to go was good enough for him as he urged his horse onwards, into the rain and wind and dark.

Behind him, Zatok was buzzing with life. Every single local came in to see the dead body still lying in the soiled bed. They were dumbfounded, having never witnessed anything like this before. The old woman who's been peeking in the whole time was retelling a morbid story of what she'd seen with her very own eyes: the young Two Crow seducing the noble Lady and waiting for her to deliver his child, then turning into a horrifying demon creature and sucking the very life out of her. He then took his demonic spawn and disappeared, ready to sacrifice a new life to corrupt Raya itself.

The men cursed and spat, swearing to the Gods that they'd kill that demon if they cought him again. Where is the protection from the Magi that the King had promised them, time and time again? Where are the Savage Hunters to keep these demons in check? No good ever came from the other side of the mountain. It must be that vile Two Crow magic that brought this disaster to their village. In the morning, everyone's curiosity was satisfied and they did what they've always done with a person whose body was rotten - they beheaded her and burned her corpse. But the story of the death-bringing Two Crow demon lived on, making its rounds in the region at the head of local gossip.

T B C

Character art available at nevaever. deviantart. com (no spaces)