Hold still, girl. I must see the blood to an end," spoke Elgama, her hand nearly elbow deep within Abigelle's womb. The young witch rolled from side to side in sheer agony, the pain of labor beginning to drain her strength. "The child has severed the maternal link of life. I am doing everything I can, but I am uncertain if it will be enough to save them." Hexonia stood back upon the wall, her eyes downcast. "Remain at work," she spoke. "I will see what I can do to aid your efforts." She turned and left the room. Abigelle screamed the feeling of knives tearing into flesh far too great to remain neither still nor silent. "Please, I beg of you...just cut him from me, and let me die." Removing her hand she began to feel around her patient's belly, her mind deep in thought. "It is a sin to allow a child to grow without the love and care of a mother. For fathers have no such love to give. Relax allow your body to perform the actions it was created to and see your loving son into warm arms."
Night had fallen upon them, and with it, the greatest of dangers. Holding a candlelight to the womb, Rosenwater gazed into the sanctuary of the Tydran. There resting upon its mother's spine laid a god wishing emergence from its idle growth. Small fingers and toes adorned by miniature talons, the structure of a tail birthing from its hindquarters. Its time of preparation had ended, and now it was tearing to get free. Something rested to its side but what, the priestess could not make out. She sat the candle down and went to cleanse her hands. "I will need to see your body calmed. You may feel sick at the stomach for a while, but the pain will cease and allow you to rest." "What are you giving me?" "The same herb I took to tongue when I lay in the same bed as you. I will give you seeds of Hemlock, unpleasant in taste but soothing." Moving to her chest of herbs, the priestess uncorked a clay jar and moved to the bed. Filling a small spoon, she pressed the seeds to the girl's mouth and spoke, "Eat and be sure to swallow it all." Doing as told, Abigelle gagged and fought to keep it down, the taste of poisonous healing upon her tongue.
"Good, now try to rest. You will need it for what is to come." "Gratitude for all you do for me. It is not every day that others would come to aid a Tyliquin." The priestess smiled and returned her supplements before heading to the door. "And it is not every day that two of the gifted cross paths." The door shut behind her leaving Abigelle to feel the looming effect of the Hemlock.
Rosenwater made her way up the hall finding his Majesty pacing in thought. "Your grace, might I break words?" "Aye, you may, but first I must seek answers to my questions. How fares the young one? Shall the child come forth upon this night?" Elgama shook her head. "Not naturally, M'lord. The girl carries a Tydran within her belly." "A Tydran?" "How did she manage to become the mother of a Tydran?" "She did travel from the lands of Dread. I believe the child was sired by your brother in marriage." "You have reason to believe that Calira has come to claim a child?" "Yes, your Majesty, I have gazed upon it, and he lays within her as cruel and battle born as your brother. I must beg of you to allow me to remove the child from the womb."
Hexonia came to stand behind her husband eyes full of worry. "Remove it how?" She questioned. "I must cut the mother and remove him, or they will both die. I am afraid I do not have much time, the boy has already begun to drain her blood. Next, he will begin to rip from her belly as if hatching. I will need Henbane to put her to sleep while I free her of her child's grasp."
"Will she perish, Lady Rose?" Asked the King. "It is quite possible, yes. She has lost a great amount of blood. And if I am not hasty with my work they will both fall into the hands of Dovium." The royal pair looked to each other seeking answers they would never find. "See Aleandere, he will provide you with all you need," spoke Hexonia her hand coming to curl over her lips. "Very well, I will see you both shortly."
The birthing chambers had been strung with jasper from red to blue. The windows and doors had been sealed shut, every male including the King escorted from the Eastern wing. All that remained now were Abigelle, the Queen, and the priestess. The time had come at last. Rosenwater moved to Abigelle examining her unconscious form, her body as still as those in eternal slumber. Her hair remained loose and long over her shoulders, her neck wrapped in a necklace of bloodstone and garnet. Upon the bedside table rested folded cloths of white cotton and golden silk, accompanied by a bowl of honey and salt. With them burned the oils and dried leaves of thyme and rosemary, in hopes to prevent infection. Taking a cleansed and blessed bistoury in hand, Elgama turned and faced Hexonia speaking,
"The Deadly Nightshade has taken hold with permission I would like to begin." "Are you certain she will not wake during this process? Such pain should not be placed on her. She has suffered enough." "I vow it upon my life, your Majesty." Hexonia walked to the bedside, her eyes downcast upon the girl. "Then see what needs to be done completed. Is there anything I should aid you with perhaps?" "Just take the baby when I bring it forth. It will need warmth." Nodding the Queen took a seat beside the bed her nerves a ball of tangled fear.
The first cut was made the blood coming forth in a soft flow. The flesh was worn thin from the activity of the creature, its body submerged within a living bowl of ruby fluid. The knife came to rest upon the bed, its blade painted with horror. Hexonia could not believe her eyes, surely this small and defenseless creature could not have caused such torment. But her thoughts were of no matter, the evidence laid before her in the girl who slept slowly passing from the world. It emerged bathed in the thickness of blood, its body that of a humanoid baring a short stub of a tail. It kicked and cried outward in the soft grasp of the priestess. For a moment, Hexonia looked on to its belly and the brass liquid that sprang from it.
"I t is a boy, she has given birth to a son," spoke Elgama extending the newborn to the Queen. In a rush Hexonia took to the bedside table and wrapped him in the white cloth then the gold. "Hold him still until I see his mother gathered. She has lost too much blood." The feeling of a child in her arms was one of sweet pleasure, yet her heart bled for his mother, a woman who may not live long enough to lay eyes upon him. He cried his voice loud and strong, his lungs freeing themselves of fluids. His eyes came to open locking onto she who held him. Behind the blood of birth laid eyes of emerald, the eyes of her mother.
"A King you shall become one day, my son. Welcome to the world you shall come to rule. With you perhaps, the past will be forgotten," her heart spoke for her, the weight of it for just a moment somehow making her feel as if the boy had split her womb. Across the room Elgama stood bailing blood from Abigelle's abdomen into a bowl of silver. As she did she reached for a bundle of cloths and wrapped something within them. The witch's body was growing paler by the minute. It seemed as if life had abandoned her. Holding her son close, the merciful Queen made her way closer to the events coming to pass.
She found a soft and unsure voice, "Why has the bleeding not stopped? And what did you see hidden by that cloth?" Keeping her hands steady as she began to thread a thorn, Elgama answered, "It is the placenta, your Majesty. It will be later offered to Dovium in exchange for a month of life so that she may nurse and enjoy her son. She will not live long in her condition, the child had begun to maul her from the inside out. It is the only way for her to be given the experience every mother deserves."
Hexonia looked down to the crying babe of red in shock, finally coming to notice the small grey talons attached to his fingers. "Why would he. How could he?" the Queen questioned. "It is part of the curse, any witch who breaks the covenant of the divine is punished this way. Tydrans are viewed as the only demon who could bring an end to the gods. And therefore any who participate in their creation are punished by torment and death. It is also known that Tyliquin witches who give birth to Tydran's are from that day forward, unable to produce children." Elgama say the woman's uterus removed before she pulled the skin together as she began to sew carefully, leaving neat stitches. It was near to ripping and would require tender care for the remainder of what life the Tyliquin would have left. "Will she be strong enough to feed him, or even less hold him?" "She will in a few days, your Majesty. For now we will have to make do with another form of nourishment." "And what do you have in mind? If the child claims draconic blood, would he be able to perhaps survive on our diet?"
Completing the closure she came to respond, "No. His draconic blood lies dormant within him. Most do not see signs of their race until they gather one hundred fifty wisdom seasons. It is his soul that is in need of sustenance, the blood that lays upon him feeds his body. You must remember, your grace, from the time of birth the Tydran is a warrior needing only blood and fire to survive. See him toward the flames, he must be kept warm to ensure the functionality of his fire bladder later in life."
The child came to move in her arms as they neared the fireplace. The crackling sounds seemed to calm him his cheeks flushing a vibrant ruby. Elgama washed the wound clean, drying it fully before applying an ointment of common comfrey and myrrh. Carefully the soft touch of spiders webbing and ivy found itself being wrapped around the sleeping Abigelle. "The bed linens must be changed, your Majesty, I will see the washroom notified of such. Ensure they take great care when moving her body, the faintest slip could reopen her wound." Elgama turned to cleanse her hands. She took hold of the salt and honey and made way towards where the Queen stood. "Might I borrow him?" "Of course," Hexonia spoke handing him off gently. Kneeling upon the floor, Rosenwater opened his swaddling clothes and began to wash the blood from his flesh. Satisfied with the gleam of his skin, she began to rub him down with salt, her touch gentle and caring. In a final cleanse, she saw him to new clothing, rubbed his gums with honey, and handed him off to his new mother.
"Gratitude, Lady Rose, this would not have been possible without your expertise in healing. I owe you a great deal. I shall see you repaid." The woman smiled and gave a soft chuckle placing a palm to the boy's head. "You owe me nothing more but your pleasant thanks. I but do as commanded as your humble and devoted servant. Enjoy your time with him. They grow fast. Should I see his grace notified of your son's arrival?" She twisted her lips in thought a moment. "Yes indeed, see the King to our chambers. I will meet him there."
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