A fantasy humanization of my "To Watch the Sky Bleed" Land Before Time Fanfiction.

Chapter One: Blood of a Mother

Gǔpansya; Realm of all Races, Chaotic

Year 582 of the 19th Era; 19e-582

Mid-Autumn

The Scars of Sangaimu (Deity of Blood), The Scarlet Grove, Nightheart Village

The moon hung low and full in the inky black canvas of the night, its ethereal glow washing over the forest beneath. A shaft of light pierced through the thick canopy of leaves and into the window of an inn room, illuminating three infants in a cradle. Each was swaddled in azure-blue linen speckled a darker blue.

Their mother, Ishtar, sat in a chair across the room, dark-amber eyes unblinking. Her short scarlet hair was unkempt, not neatly combed back or styled as usual. The vibrant color had dulled with age but, even far past her prime, had yet to earn a streak of grey. Still, her back cracked as she sat up straighter, and her knees popped when she stood, telling of her long life. Scars littered her washed-caramel skin, though most were hidden under the long-sleeve, ankle-length scarlet dress she wore.

Ishtar walked to the window, hands tucked behind her back as she stared at the full moon. At first glance, she looked like any other Meek who walked the streets below. However, even though she did not possess the black eyes or skin of a True-Shedim of Destruction, she still carried their devastating ability...and something more. Ishtar was a False-Shedim of Destruction. Shedim were demonic-like people, some with devastating powers, and their opposite were the angelic-like Elohim. True-Shedim and True-Elohim possessed an outer-worldly appearance while False-Shedim and False-Elohim did not, nor were their innate abilities as strong. They were lesser, with very Meek-like appearances and abilities far weaker than their more powerful counterparts.

Even though she was a False-Shedim of Destruction, some people may just know Ishtar as a Jyyn — someone from one of the vile realms with a vile ability. Nonetheless, there were many races and even more subraces of people in the chaotic realm of Gǔpansya. From the elemental-wielding Viisir, the animal-like people called the Cina, or the divining, fae-like Nazik. And there were so many more. All of them originated from different realms. Even the Shedim and Elohim, collectively known as the Anon, came from the same realm: Ànọ̀nsaàna. And with so many races mixing, blood was bound to mix in one way or another. In such a mixed realm, it wasn't unheard of for two Shedim of different subraces to fall in love and create a child.

However, it would devastate Ishtar, for she had crossed more than just a blurry line between Shedim.

The elderly woman twisted the silver wedding ring adorned with small blue gemstones around her ring finger, her dark-amber eyes narrowing. It never occurred to her that she would have children, let alone triplets, after Hiran died. It had been years since her silver-haired, orange-eyed husband had passed away from illness. Not many years after his death, she seemed to have reached the time when women no longer bled or bore children.

Or so she thought.

For three months, she had ignored the nausea, strange cravings, moodiness, and fatigue until she finally noticed her growing stomach. Two more months, she donned heavy clothing to hide her weight gain and quickly growing belly. When she couldn't hide her pregnancy any longer, Ishtar announced to her people that she would be gone on an eight-month excursion around the outskirts of her village and other nearby villages. Then, she left, traveling between backwater villages, dressed in the heaviest clothes to conceal her pregnancy and identity. It wasn't until her water broke a month early that she sought help from a midwife. The labor was quick but painful. Once her children were in her arms, Ishtar sent the midwife away with a handsome amount of gold and a stare that could kill. The Meek woman who helped Ishtar with her birth would surely never say a word, even when it was gossip worthy — the mother was the leader of a powerful, blood-thirsty village, and the children were a pure oddity.

As the night of their birth grew on, Ishtar gazed at her three children, unsure what to make of them. Two girls and a boy. Each a varying mix of their parents, none looking enough like her to pass as a False-Shedim. If only their sire had not been such an exotic race.

The red-haired woman stared at her three sleeping children. They were so tiny, even five months after their birth. It wouldn't be long before she returned to her people of ScarletRain Village, but how could she return with the three infants? They were nothing like her or the other False-Shedim of Destruction that lived in ScarletRain Village.

How had a stupid decision late in the night, her mind clouded with thoughts of love lost too soon, leave her to bear three children? She was too old to carry children, let alone healthy ones. But here they were, in her tiny inn room, sleeping soundly in their crib. And to think the man she had shared an intimate night with was a...

Ishtar dug her fingers into her arms, her washed-caramel skin turning white with the pressure. What would her people think? Their leader, who had led them for almost three decades and who had begun to crack at the joints with age, slipping off into the night. What her eight-month excursion was really meant for. Why did she leave? Not to scout the local villages. No. She left to give birth to three children, of all things! Triplets in her old age not resembling any other child Ishtar bore before them. Everything was worse knowing that Ishtar had not shown interest in men within their powerful village of False-Shedim of Destruction. A night with a wayward stranger would cause more than enough scowls and quips from her villagers, but this...

Even a leader wasn't safe from banishment.

Ishtar was old, and several villagers eagerly awaited her to step down. She had hoped one of her youngest sons, who still lived with her, would take over, but they were still too young, and others were getting desperate. If one of her villagers found out about the foolish mistake she had made...

With a heavy sigh, Ishtar made her way over to the moonlit window. She mindlessly ran a hand down the inner part of her arm, following the trail of one of many veins beneath her skin. Her eyes fell close, and she let the sound of her own heartbeat and the feeling of her blood pumping through her vessels, lull some sort of peace over her.

She opened her eyes and gazed upon the triplets. Would they really survive past a year of life? What would she do with them? Hand wrapping around her wrist, she clenched and unclenched her fist. It would be easier if she killed them now, wouldn't it? The older they became, the harder it would be — whether her attachment became too strong or they grew quickly into their innate abilities. Many innate abilities.

As her fingers slowly wrapped around a knife strapped to her thigh, a sharp metallic scent of blood calling to her, but not yet lingering in the air, a flash of onyx hair and pale grey eyes filled her vision. So similar but so different from the stranger she slept with many months ago. Those pale grey eyes did not belong to the stranger. No, they belonged to a man she fell in love with so long ago and who she lost too soon.

"Damn you, Dasarha. Why did that man have to remind me of you? It's been years since that bitch killed you, and...and I still miss you. Even after all this time. Even after I married Hiran. Even after I had many children with Hiran. You and my first children... triplets just like these three... What would it have been like if you and them hadn't been killed? If she hadn't slaughtered our three children?"

Ishtar released her blade, pulling herself out of the bloodlust she was about to let herself fall into. Sangaimu would have to wait a little longer for blood to be split. Memories of her first husband and her still powerful maternal instincts were too strong. She should just kill them now, a simple slice to the throat. She should just tell herself she was doing herself a favor and sacrificing their spilt blood to the deity that had blessed her bloodline. She wouldn't have to worry about banishment. Everything would return to how it was before she left for the excursion.

She couldn't.

Sighing, Ishtar lowered herself into a nearby rocking chair. She would watch over her children and make sure they stayed warm and safe tonight. This inn wasn't the most secure after all. There were people with hellish abilities and even Meek rogues who could easily break through the window. But she was a village leader after all, and even though she was old, there was more than met the eye.

She would worry about her village later. Right now, she needed some peace to think.

Maybe, by sunrise, she could just leave her children at an orphanage or on the steps of a temple. However, images flickered behind her eyes of them being left and cared for by someone else. Children that looked like the three before her would not fair well. Ridicule and harassment would be tossed upon them the moment they could walk. Fear would spark in the eyes of everyone they encountered. They were, Jyyn, of mixed blood, and strange in appearance. Everything was against them. And... they were her children. They were of her powerful bloodline. It was not right to give them up to a random passer-by.

Nothing felt right.

Ishtar twisted the silver and sapphire ring on her right ring finger, followed by the dark silver and onyx ring on her right thumb. She didn't like any of the options she had before her, and she had had months to weigh her options. She should have ended her pregnancy the moment she found out she was carrying the children. She should have ended them before they were born or the moment after. But now...as she gazed at their sleeping faces, her maternal instincts were too strong. Even if she let herself fall away to the deity that blessed her bloodline, it wouldn't dampen her motherly will.

She would not let these children die or be raised by another pair of hands. If their lives would end, it would be on her terms. These children had formed within her body for eight months. If her children would live or die, she would be the one to end them.

But...what should she do now?

So many troublesome endings stopped if she slaughtered her children. It was the easiest and least issue filled for the leader. If Ishtar brought them back to the village, they would question her. If she roped another villager into her secret to help care for the children, there was no telling if the villager would spill her secret. Gossip was strong and traveled swiftly, even among the quietest of her village. And if they found out what the children really were, there was no way they would let them live.

Ishtar closed her eyes. She was getting too old for this. For everything. And to think she was now a new mother. However, she let her thoughts drift into the abyss for just a few heartbeats. She needed peace. Peace without thoughts.

All she knew was that she wasn't one for taking the easiest way out.