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The fire burned fiercely, throwing tiny ashes onto my near naked form. Each wave of birth pain brought me to the edge of emptiness. A full moon, heavy with the weight of the world hung low in the sky. I want to cry, I want to scream, but I have the energy for neither. There are others around me, other pregnant women, older women wise in the was to bring forth life. Yet, I feel alone. It is just the Moon, the fire, and I.
Another wave of pain brings me low, so close to the fire that I can smell it singeing my hair. I care not, as the only thing I can feel is the pain from the child. How did I get here? A dark forest on a cool night, a man who is not a man calls to me sweetly. His voice sounds like calls from the forest, and I am helplessly pulled to him. His hands are soft, his eyes warm. A rush of water from me disturbs my sweet thoughts.
“Availa, your time grows near,” Neina, wisest of wise women, Preistess to the Moon, strong old arms wrapped around me, “breathe with me. Listen to my voice.” She whispers in my ear, but it sounds like flood waters. Thundering past me, I can no longer her the other women’s cries, or my own.
“Listen, Listen come hear of the first gift.
Come, comes Father Sun, Lonely
Cold, Cold Mother Moon, Lonely
Together they love
Together they give life
Falling, I feel like I’m falling. All I can hear is the voice. “Push Availa, push.” I feel lost, “push?” I repeat. I put my heart into it. “Good, now Breath.” I gasp for air. The pain is incessant. “One more time.” I push. The child must come out I can’t stand it any more.
“There, well done, open your eyes see your daughter.” I open my eyes; the fire burns low orange coals throwing comfortable warmth over the grove. Neina holds the small quiet form that is my daughter. Cleaning her with water that has been blessed by all of the moon priestesses in our tribe, Niena smiles. I cannot believe just how small my child is. Neina hands her to me, “hello, I’ve been waiting.” I say. It sounds clumsy to me, but I’m not sure of what to say to her. Neina continues to wipe her down, and her small eyes open and look at me.
“Neina! Her eyes!” I look but I cannot understand, they seem to burn. Neina returns to me and looks the child over, inspecting her eyes last. She cleans the last of the birth fluids from her. Neina, shakes her head slightly from side to side, “Availa what have you done? This child, who is this child’s father?”
I trembled in spite of myself. “What do you me?” I pulled the child back into my chest. “She is fine!” I felt like panicking. What ever could Neina mean?
She seemed to eye me for a long time. My legs weaken underneath me, “I’m sorry to have upset you, but her father isn’t, couldn’t be human.” She came closer to me, and gently brushed the hair from my face. “Name her then she will be part of the tribe, and no one can question her.” The edge in her normally soft voice disturbed me. I nodded my consent, “Luna uis Pele.” I whispered.
Niena took my daughter at that moment, and hefted her high into the sky, “Welcome, Welcome all, Luna uis Pele daughter of Availa nis Vearin!” A round of shouts and applause welcomed my daughter. The priestess brought her back down to me.
“It is done.” She said to me grimly, “Flower Without Fear welcome your daughter, Moon of Fire.” I could not keep the smile from my face. She seemed so small, so perfect.
“We shall see if what I have done here this night was the correct course, if not, I fear for all our souls.” Niena walk to chech on the rest of the new mothers.
I stare after her, gathering my thoughts. I ease myself and my daughter closer to the cooling coals. How could anything so perfect be harmful, “Mother?”
∞
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Title:
Fires of War
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Artist:
SeabeeMarie
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Description:
A child is born, with fires in her eyes. What could it mean? Who is her father?
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Date:
02/26/2009
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Tags:
fires
fantasy
mystery
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