"Gods! Miracle!"
"What is? Aunty Felicia! What's with my child? Is he okay? Is he okay?" A bedridden woman exclaimed, her body shivering.
In front of her, a middle-aged woman handled a bloody infant in her embrace. She peered over at the sleeping newborn: examining his face, his hands, and his toes before she turned back to the bedridden woman.
"Alice, your child looks healthy."
Alice stopped shivering when she heard that. Instead, teardrops traveled down her flushed face and she burst into maniacal laughter. "It's…I'm happy…Aunty Felicia, are you happy?"
"Of course, of course, I'm beyond happy, daughter, I'm jubilated!" Felicia stared at the newborn with pride, a light grin coating her face. The newborn's eyelashes were fluttering, and his eyelids soon opened to reveal crystalline brown eyes.
"Aunty Felicia, Aunty Felicia…say, can you show my child to Matteo? Can you show him?!"
Downtrodden, she replied, "Alice, you know he can't-
"Who the fuck cares about the curse?! You all say that, but I know my husband – he's also now a father, and he can see, he can sense our every joy and sadness…"
"You know best, daughter."
Felicia gently tightened her embrace around the child and left the room. In a dim chamber, the older woman placed the newborn onto a mattress and ignited a candle. The newborn wasn't the bed's only occupant.
At the helm of the bed laid down a tall adult man. Robust in build and well-clothed, the man's hygiene was apparent from his spotless face and clean-shaven beard. Despite all of that, however, the man, named Matteo, remained unmoving. While his eyes were open, he was devoid of life and movement.
"Mister Matteo: Here is your wife's son, your son. I don't know if you are here with us, but if you are, you can be proud of your lover for carrying and delivering this healthy child."
No reaction. Felicia shrugged and retreated back into Alice's room. "Mister Matteo's eyelash fluttered. He must have recognized his son!"
A little lie was never too bad.
Alice said, "I told you! The curse will wear off soon…this child is proof…"
Felicia approached the new mother and acquiesced, "You're right, daughter. I've never heard of a child born during Frimiare…it's inconceivable, all women who try giving birth less than one month before winter lose their children: You're right, daughter, this is proof that you've received great fortune – this child will grow up to be incredible, a winner at life."
Alice retrieved her newborn from the godmother's hands. Scanning her son's open eyes she commented, "He is a winner at life…a victor. I wanted to do this with Matteo, but will he find no greater misfortune than a nameless child? My son shall henceforth be Victor: The one who wins, the herald of the God of the Golden Months, Victor, and the spiritual successor of our first consul, Victor Garibaldi…"
"It's a great name, my daughter. He will grow up to be a handsome and smart young man with parents such as you two…"
Silence befell the room. Alice wiggled her body and tried to stand up. It was a futile effort; giving birth consumed all of her strength. Felicia steadied the woman, "My daughter, be kind to yourself, you've just done a warrior's deed."
"Aunty Felicia, I can't keep you here anymore. You have children and you also need to collect timber and bake bread for tomorrow and winter…Your remuneration is on the shelf there."
"Don't be madwoman, daughter…I do need to do that, but there's no way I can take your money. My lineage has served the Agostos for the past century, we can be here for you in hard times as you were here for my mother and the women before."
"But-
"No buts, daughter. I need to go, yes, but I'm sending you my oldest daughter here to stay and help you for winter. She's outside of the estate, waiting to introduce herself – may I call her?"
"Oh, Aunty Felicia, you're too kind…The Agostos are no more, but we shall never forget your kindness!" With the most strength a postpartum woman could muster, Alice exclaimed.
Felicia left the room to get her daughter, leaving Alice alone with her son.
Speaking of that son…
'Is that my mother? She's gigantic!' Victor was a newborn. However, his mind was oldborn. In the few minutes since his birth, the infant still had difficulty comprehending the scale he occupied in the world.
'I'm in Lusland. I'm a newborn. What are the odds I've stumbled upon a good family? What if they're bad parents, or worse, we're in poverty? A childhood of poverty was enough, can I live a spoiled child, indulging in the greatest abundances since birth?'
A big mind in a small body.
His gigantic mother interlocked glances with him. Then she leaned in closer, and closer. Victor furrowed his imaginary brows. As if to resist the invasion of his personal space by this gargantuan woman, he threw a fist at her.
Or at least he thought so…as his minuscule hands landed on Alice's cheeks, leaving a trace of blood and a smile upon his mother's face. "You're a strong warrior, aren't you? Aren't you the strongest warrior?"
'What is she saying?' Victor only heard incomprehensible blabber. Language was going to be a big problem for his first few years.
As such, a problem no other newborn had soon emerged as the biggest priority in little Victor's mind. Trying to speak, he moved his tongue and mouth with no result, obviously.
Alice caught onto his mouthing and dearly said, "Hungry already? You're a gluttonous one, aren't you?"
Victor did not understand her inquiry, but her hands moving towards her collar inspired an existential terror within the infant.
…
Awkward.
…
Embarrassingly, Victor's adultman worries disappeared as instinct reigned in while he fed on his mother's breastmilk. This continued until two women made their way into the room. Victor observed the two: An older woman he recalled being carried by, and a younger girl following her.
The young girl, seemingly in her late teens, kept her head down and only greeted Alice with a slight bow of the head before she retreated to herself.
"Lady Alice, this is my oldest daughter…Emilia. She's a little shy, but Emilia is one of my brightest. She'd be happy to serve the Agosto household and get some training, wouldn't you, love?" Felicia rubbed her daughter's black hair affectionately.
Emilia raised her head, and with an enthusiasm that betrayed her demeanor, she affirmed, "Lady Alice, I'd be a great choice! I've been learning to read, write, cook and clean under my mother since childhood!"
Felicia smiled and said, "You've forgotten one thing!"
"Ah! Lady Alice, it's nothing much, really nothing, but I can use some utility magic…after I work with you, I want to go to the city and learn real magic, maybe become a craftswoman in the magic fields…"
Alice looked rather impressed. Felicia added, "I didn't expect it, you know, that my daughter has talent for magic…It's unfortunate we couldn't send her when she was young…"
"Aunt Felicia, the Agosto household can-
"No can do, Lady Alice. I want to raise money on my own, I want to work hard for you and that the money be the fruit of my labor…" Emilia interjected and stood unyielding.
Alice chuckled, "Well, this 'Lady' is feeling impressed. Here is your first task, could you help me clean the bed? I want to shower my son on my own…"
"Of course!"
Emilia approached the mattress. Above the stained bedsheets, she waved her hands and chanted a few syllables. The blood and urine on the bedsheets throbbed, separating from the fabric and hovering shakily in the air.
"Here's a bucket, Emilia."
Emilia fixed the floating stains, and focused on her magic. With delicate swings of her fingers, the stains hovered towards thin air until they were atop the bucket.
With another swing of her hands, the liquids met gravity again and descended downwards.
"Impressive!" Alice commented. It was unfortunate that the newborn Victor was at a frustrating angle where he could not see the magic, for he would have grown more hopeful for his childhood.
"I can do more!"
Felicia massaged her daughter's shoulders and said, "Don't overexert yourself, Emilia."
"Mom…Can I come to see you during winter?" Emilia's eyes grew moist as she looked at her mother.
"I, I don't know, love-
"There are carriages that can run through heaps of snow, no? I'll arrange for those: I can't allow the separation of a mother and her daughter – My son has only just been born, and I cannot leave him anymore."
"You're too kind, Lady Alice. Emilia, kneel – for this is the great household you will, as did the women before us, serve!"
Emilia nodded and kneeled down along with her mother.
"No need for such formalities. It's nearing the last sunset of the year, you two, you should go. I'll wait for you, Emilia when you finish your last supper of the Brown Months."