340: The birth of hope

The birth of hope

Fevra, located in the northern reaches of Emoria and known for its extended winters, was experiencing a relentless season that seemed to stretch across three quarters of the year.0

The inhabitants of this county, hailing from a reticent and introverted background, had long confined themselves to the capital Destan, enduring the endless dark winter nights that prematurely swallowed the fleeting morning light.

"Another triumph!" exclaimed one merchant.

"Fresh tidings from the palace confirm the victory, once more in favor of the allies!" chimed in his neighbor, sharing in the jubilation.

Such was the prevalent atmosphere in the streets of Destan these days. Over the past three seasons, the winds of change had blown through the county, not only altering its physical appearance but also transforming the lives of its residents and the royal palace too.

Once steeped in melancholy and desolation, a newfound vitality had blossomed in the King's palace, akin to the arrival of spring after a harsh winter. The accomplishments and high spirits achieved over these seasons had kindled a warmth within the hearts of those residing in this cold terrain, and the palace buzzed with life as the allied forces converged within its stony walls to wage war against Varinthia.

That was only one facet of the transformation that had swept over Emoria.

In the heart of the palace, in its southernmost reaches, lay a secluded wing distinguished by its shadowed corridors. Accessible only to a select few, these halls remained untouched by the loud activity beyond their walls. Three individuals alone possessed the privilege of entering this sanctuary, where they safeguarded the Jewel of Emoria—a symbol of the ongoing war against the encroaching forces of dark magic that plagued Varinthia.

In the quiet annex of the Emorian Queen's chamber, Lady Adelaide de Lanark von Conradie lay recovering from what had been publicly announced as a rare condition—a deceptive cover concealing her sensitive pregnancy. Today, however, was a day unlike any other, one that Emoria and its royal family had not witnessed before.

The usual tranquil atmosphere in the annex was occasionally pierced by the whimpers of a woman, initially sporadic but gradually growing more frequent. Two days had elapsed since these heart-wrenching sounds had first permeated the space, for the long-awaited moment had arrived, the one that the Emorian royal family and their closest allies had all been anticipating: Adela was about to give birth.

Her pregnancy had been an arduous ordeal, hidden from the world's prying eyes but extracting an immense toll on her health. The three women by her side—her mother, Grace de Lanark, Baroness Frieda, and her sister, Larissa de Lanark—were the sole witnesses to this momentous event. All shared the hope for a safe delivery and a chance for Adela to regain her health, regardless of how long that process would take.

"It is not too late to call for the royal physician, Adelaide. Won't you allow him to be present?" Grace's voice was gentle as she brushed the damp strands clinging to her daughter's forehead. Frieda, meanwhile, dabbed a silk bag of ice on Adela's face to offer some relief.

"No! No one can be present." Adela responded between haggard breaths, her prolonged labor pushing her body to its limits. "The world shall not know of my child, not for another year. That is how it should be." 

Larissa, wearing a tender expression, chimed in, already aware of the answer her sister would provide, "Won't you consider the sedatives, then?"

"We don't know what my baby can or cannot take. What if it was too lightweight for the dose? I could not bring proper nutrition to my beloved while inside of me." 

"Your milk will be bountiful, and you and your baby will be healthy and strong," Frieda reassured, her bloodshot eyes finally dry of tears.

"Agh! Ah!"

Adela's face contorted in pain as another contraction gripped her.

"Another one already?" Larissa exclaimed.

"It is time," Grace announced, rolling up her sleeves and offering a reassuring smile to Adela.

"Mother!" Adela cried out. "I can't! I'm too tired!"

Grace leaned in closer, her voice steady and soothing. "You're stronger than you know, Adela. This pain will pass, and your child? He will be a beacon of hope."

"What if it's a girl?" Adela sobbed, her heart aching at the thought of the potentially unjust fate that awaited her unborn child.

"Have faith in the prophecy," Grace replied, her voice filled with hope.

The delivery became a grueling test of endurance, both for Adela and the women attending to her. With each wave of pain and each relentless contraction, Adela felt as though she might be consumed entirely. Doubts gnawed at the edges of her consciousness, whispering that she might not make it through this trial.

As Adela's strength waned, the collective strength of her family did not. They pushed her forward, as if their sheer willpower could coax the child into the world.

"You can do this!" Larissa urged as she gripped her sister's face with both hands and gave it a gentle shake, trying to keep her conscious for the final pushes that lay ahead. "Breathe, Adela! You'll be holding your baby soon!"

"My baby," Adela said with a voice cracking from all the screams, her grip on Frieda's hand tightening as she gritted her teeth against the pain. "I can do this," she groaned, addressing herself as much as those around her.

"You're doing wonderfully, Adelaide. Just a little more!" Grace encouraged, finally seeing the head.

The final moments were the most brutal, and the chamber seemed to hold its breath with the only sound being the piercing cries of the woman giving birth. And then, in the midst of the loud and chaotic moments of despair and hope, the baby finally emerged.

A profound silence descended upon the women, broken only by Adela's ragged breaths.

"...My... My baby!" Adela cried out. "Why won't my baby cry?" She gritted her teeth again, feeling another contraction that helped her push out the placenta and let out a sigh of intense relief, the most she had felt in her entire life. "My baby!" She exclaimed again.

"Both of you are fine!" Frieda exclaimed, her tears streaming down her face as she kissed Adela's hair repeatedly, while Larissa hurried to assist her mother.

"Welcome to the world!" Grace said, cutting the umbilical cord and tying it, while Larissa wrapped the newborn in a clean cloth. "Meet your brave mother, little one!" Grace said, finally allowing herself to shed the tears she had held back throughout the intense moments when she needed to give all of her strength to her daughter.

It was the most magical moment in Adela's life as her mother lifted the baby and brought it closer. Adela locked eyes with two dark brown eyes that contrasted beautifully with milky skin and cheeks as red as two ripe apples. She couldn't distinguish the color of her baby's hair, as it was covered in blood and the cloth her mother had wrapped around it.

All her worries about the baby not crying evaporated when the dark brown eyes blinked, and the tiniest hand was brought to the round mouth that sucked on the thumb fiercely.

"...Are you hungry?" Adela said when her mother placed the baby in her arms. "You were so brave! Of course you are hungry!" She laughed and cried as she kissed the warm forehead.

The room was filled with awe and hushed laughter as Adela attempted to breastfeed her newborn. However, the joyous atmosphere quickly shifted when Grace's face paled.

"This... How can this be? Larissa, Frieda, come here for a moment..." She said, her eyes filled with disbelief.

Adela's whining, the relentless companion of her torment, no wonder it had ceased completely, for the new mother's body, ravaged by the agonies of pregnancy and childbirth, was already beginning to heal.

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