A raven was perched at the window sill, still and quiet. Observing all around it. It heard the groans of pain and the screams, and the occasional soothing sounds from the doctors and midwives. The raven's black, beady eyes were focused on Arella, sobbing and in a great deal of pain, despite the medicine.
"You are doing well," said a nearby woman, holding her hand.
Arella gripped down tightly on the woman's hand, her body jerking forward again and her skin flushing red with pressure. Her knuckles were turning white, and her face reddening even more. Sweat was running down her face in small rivulets.
Another woman reached forward to pat her forehead with a small towel, before putting it back in a jar full of water. The water had been altered with some of their Azarathian spells, making it cleaner and safer. More healing power within the water they were using to help Arella through the painful birth that she was suffering through.
The raven simply looked on.
When the contraction ended, Arella paused, breathing deeply to the point of hyperventilation. The woman who still clutched her hand leaned forward, attempting to steady her breathing. Her hands had moved to her back and to her chest, calming her with whatever power she had within her. Eventually, the pained look upon Arella's face was eased, though tears still streamed down her face, along with sweat.
Azar was there. The Azar. The one with the most mystic power, and the one with the most medicinal skills; she was the one who was delivering the baby—or rather, helping Arella to deliver the baby.
She was easing the pain just enough so that it wasn't terrible, but not too much that Arella could not properly feel and respond to the contractions that were wracking her body. Azar knew that if she made her numb to the pain, she would not know the right time to push.
"That raven has been here the entire time," Azar said quietly. "All five hours."
Arella groaned again as she felt another contraction clench at her body. Knowing what to do, she leaned forward and pushed again, hoping that this time it would be over. She tried and she tried, but it was still another hour before the baby had been delivered. When the baby finally emerged, quiet and still on the bedsheets beneath her, Arella didn't know that she had been delivered. She made to push again, to constrict her muscles in a desperate attempt to get the baby out.
"Arella!" said one of the midwives, "Your baby. She is here!"
Arella collapsed back on the pillows with a sob, tears streaming down her face and her whole body aching, blood flowing freely from her veins while the other midwife attempted to heal her. She was tired, so horribly tired, and she felt like she could have slept forever and ever after having gone through childbirth. Her legs trembled, and her body still had phantom contractions that pained her. A midwife swept Arella's wet hair out of her eyes. Arella panted and heaved, asking for water and for the pain to stop.
"It is female," said another woman, standing next to Azar, who held the newborn in her hands.
The baby didn't make a sound; didn't cry or gurgle or anything. Silent as a mouse.
"Is something wrong with her?" Arella asked.
Azar shook her head, and cleaned off the blood within the healing water before swaddling the baby in soft white blankets. Once this was done, she handed Arella her daughter, and Arella cradled her happily in her arms.
She was born with the gemstone on her forehead, the one that identified her to Azarath. Holding her head up, Arella could see thin purple hair sprouting from her scalp, still damp from the bathing water and birthing fluid. She had yet to open her eyes, but was already making suckling motion with her lips, eager for milk. Arella held the baby close to her breast, cradling her in her arms and looking down at her with tears of joy. Her daughter.
"My daughter," Arella whispered, awestruck.
She put a single finger to the baby's tiny lips, and she sucked on that, thinking it would give her milk. When she got nothing, the baby stopped sucking and opened her mouth, revealing a small row of sharp teeth. Arella's eyes widened as she saw that; a baby shouldn't be born with teeth, and especially not fangs. But, Arella reminded herself, this was a daughter of Trigon. Her ex-husband, her rapist, her most-hated enemy.
"What shall you name the child?" a woman asked, leaning in close to look at the newborn.
Her voice pulled Arella from her thoughts. She saw the baby's face again, clearly, her mouth now closed and her lips pursed, looking as innocent as could be. Arella thought for a moment. "Raven," she said then, thinking to the raven perched on the window sill, who had watched and waited the entire birth and still sat there. It had to been a sign, she knew. The people of Azar believed in signs, and she did too now.
If only…
"Raven," she said again, naming her child.
Upon hearing her new name, Raven at last opened her eyes. Causing almost everyone in the room to gasp in horror; everyone save for Azar. Raven had beautiful purple eyes, and four of them.
"So she has her father's eyes," Arella said sadly.
"No," Azar whispered. "Purple eyes are of Azarath."
Raven shifted her four eyes around slowly, surveying the room. But when she finally allowed them to focus on her mother's face, she smiled brightly. Arella grinned and clutched her daughter closer to her chest, hugging her, already filled with love for her Raven. Not her teeth nor eyes could make Arella hate her. The baby cooed softly, tiny fists reached forward in the white blanket that swaddled her, reaching for her mother.
"Four eyes or two eyes, it does not matter," Azar told her calmly. Her words were calming, and her voice soothing. She knew how to speak perfectly right, to put Arella at ease. Arella trusted these words. "She is of Azarath, and all of Azarath is the same."
Just as comfort had been given to Arella, it was so easily ripped away at that moment. There was a loud knock on the door, and a gruff voice spoke through it. The voice was hazy to Arella's ears, but she could hear the anger and fear seeping into their voice. She held Raven protectively, knowing that she was the subject of this outburst.
Azar stood up and marched towards the door, the door opening before her and sliding back shut at the absence of her presence. Arella knew that she was wrapped in another argument, and she looked down at her daughter sadly.
She loved Raven so much, and she didn't want any harm to come to her.
The three women by her bedside sat on either side of her, trying to comfort her with their words. But it all rang dull in Arella's ears.
She knew that even with the protection of Azar and all of Azarath, her half-demon child would still have a hard and difficult life in front of her. More tears streaked down her face, but this time it was out of sadness instead of happiness or pain. Raven looked so innocent to her eyes; how could anyone think this child evil?
She sighed and leaned back on the bed, still cradling Raven.
The bird raven still sat at the window's ledge, watching everything play out and listening to the far off sounds of angered voices both trying to raise over one another. Ravens, highly intelligent birds by nature, could sense what was happening.
Dispute.
Spreading its silky black wings, the raven flapped into the room, perching nearer on a table before flocking over even closer. It was testing its boundaries, and since no one made to remove it, the raven flocked closer ever still. They all seemed to know this raven had no ill will. From all they knew, the raven was friendly, and had taken a special interest in the newborn. The bird got as close as it dared, and stared down into four violet eyes, looking at the baby curiously. Twitching its head back and forth, the raven took in full sight of the child.
Healthy and well enough. Happy and oblivious to the yelling just outside the room.
After all the long hours the bird had spent watching over this room, it finally flocked away just as Azar stormed back into the room. Her good mood had vanished, but she still remained calm and collected.
"The raven has left," she said in a deflated tone.
Walking back to the bed, closing her eyes, she said as she sat down, "Something special has happened. I am sure of it."
"What was the ruckus about?" the woman to Arella's left asked.
Azar glared.
"Nothing important," she said. "Leave the care to me." As the words left her mouth, she instantly regretted it. Her mouth had become set in a thin line, and she squeezed her eyes shut and turned away, not wanting them to see the bitter expression that had hardened her face. She stayed like that for many minutes, caught in a subtle moment of meditation.
She was Looking, seeing into future.
That was when resolve broke.
"Give me the child," Azar said, bolting upright.
Arella did as she said, without question.
Please do not be true, Azar thought to herself in a state of panic.
She held the child up to her face, looking into her eyes before making her face dissolve away. Together, their eyes began to glow a bright white, and throughout their minds, a succession of moons and suns rose and fell, the black sky forever chasing the blue. Years of passage went through their minds, a stream of Raven's future playing out before the eyes of Azar. Her body grew, her purple hair flying out in all directions, and her eyes matured to hide her second pair of them. She sensed the personality of her, the essence of her to do good and to not aid her demonic father.
But still she arrived at the future predicted to her.
What the demon said had been true.
She looked into a future of stone skin and red skies and burning air. Of lava flowing where water should be, and desolation all around, the air filled with birds that desired to feast on carnage. So many people, all innocent, turned to stone and frozen in a state of panic and fear.
And in the middle of this, a small distant sphere of white and blue.
That calmed her enough, and she broke the spell, seeing the baby in her hands for what it was, and not what it would become.
"Here," she said, handing the child back to Arella.
Azar sighed heavily, not wanting to admit to herself what she saw. But she knew she had to; to deny the truth would be futile, and it would not change anything. The unknown could be either a state of fear or a state of blissfulness, depending on the circumstances. Weighing them both within her mind, Azar knew that this unknown must be brought to light.
She had seen Raven's future.
At least those closest to her, and the child herself when the time was right, deserved to know the truth.
Before anyone could force the child away…
