The chamber was a flurry of motion, filled with the echo of anguished cries and hurried footsteps.
"Ahhh!" The scream tore from her throat, raw and guttural, as the pain coursed through her body.
"Just a little more, my lady! Please, hold on!" one of the midwives urged, gripping her trembling hand.
"The head is crowning!" the senior midwife announced, her voice cutting through the chaos.
Tears streaked her flushed face as she struggled for breath, her body heaving with the effort. Her agony was palpable, sending a wave of unease through the servants gathered nearby.
"More towels! Warm water! Fresh sheets—hurry!" the senior midwife barked, her tone sharp and commanding. Servants scurried about, their arms laden with supplies, their movements frantic.
"That's it! You're almost there!" the second midwife said, her voice firm but encouraging. "Pass me the scissors, now!"
Whispers rippled through the room as some of the servants cast pitying glances at the laboring woman.
"The lord should be here," one murmured. "She needs him by her side."
But their words were drowned out by another agonized cry. Her strength was waning, her body teetering on the precipice of life and death. The excruciating pain wrung every ounce of her resolve, leaving her gasping for air.
Her lady-in-waiting knelt beside her, dabbing at the sweat and tears on her face with trembling hands. "My lady, stay with us! Please, don't give up!" she whispered, her voice breaking with desperation as she muttered silent prayers.
A collective gasp filled the room as the cry of a newborn pierced the air.
"The child is here! It's a boy!" one of the midwives declared, her voice thick with joy and relief.
"You've done it, Your Highness," another midwife said gently, tears glistening in her eyes, but gasps filled with horror among servants after taking a look at the newborn infant.
"B-black hair!" Most among them gasped. Mixed opinions were exchanged in hush voices.
Her body slackened as those words reached her ears. The sound of her baby's high-pitched wails was the last thing she heard before her world turned to darkness. Her chest heaved one final time, and she slipped into an exhausted slumber.
"My lady!" the lady-in-waiting cried out, panic etched into her face. She stumbled to her feet and rushed to summon the royal physicians.
The room fell into a strained silence, broken only by the cries of the infant and the frantic whispers of servants.
And as she drifted deeper into unconsciousness, a fleeting thought passed through her mind, soft and wistful: "How I wished to go back in time."
Her mind raced back to when the twist in her tranquil life began.
On a sunny afternoon, the garden glowed under the golden light. The sweet fragrance of roses and marigolds filled the air, carried by a gentle breeze. A young woman sat gracefully, her long, white hair flowing like silk, nearly touching the ground. Her pale silver eyes, reminiscent of clear crystals, were intently focused on the pages of a book. With a porcelain white hand, she turned the final page, biting her rosy lips.
"It's the last page," she sighed, closing the book. A soft smile graced her face. "So this is what freedom feels like." She lifted her teacup, sipping her favorite jasmine tea.
"Luci~!" a cheerful voice called out, and before Luciana could turn, her eyes were covered by delicate hands.
"Aria!" Luciana laughed, trying to set her teacup down before it spilled on her new dress. Her sister, Aria, giggled mischievously.
"Stop it, Aria," Luciana playfully protested, grabbing her sister's wrists.
"Sister, you missed the most important event of today," Aria pouted, her playful demeanor fading.
"What happened?" Luciana asked, pouring tea for Aria as she sat down.
"Lynn had her first flight!" Aria exclaimed excitedly.
Luciana paused, her hand hovering mid-air with the teapot, before quietly placing it back on the table. "Avlynn did?" she asked softly, passing the teacup to her younger sister.
"Yes! She looked so adorable, trying her best. You should have seen it," Aria beamed.
If a person were to hear about it, it was not an ordinary occurrence.In the realm of Amanécer, Luciana's homeland, the people were no ordinary beings. Amanécer was an empire of a unique, superior species, known for their silver or blonde hair, and striking silver eyes. Their most defining feature, however, was their wings. From birth, every child was blessed with a light that foretold the development of their wings, typically by the age of five. These wings appeared only when needed and vanished otherwise, and Amanécerians were gifted with healing powers and the ability to vanquish evil.
Today marked a special occasion for Luciana's youngest sister, Avlynn, who had just turned five and experienced her first flight.
"Luci, let's go!" Aria tugged at Luciana's hand, urging her to follow.
"Aria, you're sixteen. Behave like the princess you are," Luciana chided gently.
Aria pouted but then asked, "Why do you always get sensitive when there's news about someone's first flight? Does it bother you?"
Luciana smiled warmly and stood. "No, my dear," she said softly, as they began walking up the palace steps.
"I'll walk with you," Aria insisted, stubbornly climbing beside her sister.
"You'll tire yourself," Luciana warned, though she knew her sister's determination.
Soon enough, Aria began to falter, gasping for breath halfway up the steps. Luciana sighed and descended to where her sister lay exhausted. "You never learn, do you?" she murmured, brushing Aria's platinum blonde hair from her face and wiping her forehead.
"Sister, how do you manage these endless stairs?" Aria asked, still breathless.
"Rather than exhausting yourself, why not go ahead and inform Father that I'll be a bit late?" Luciana suggested, helping her sister stand.
"Why don't you just fly with me?" Aria offered.
A flash of fear flickered in Luciana's heart. She managed a tight smile and gently refused. Without another word, Aria's wings unfurled, and she soared towards the imperial palace. Watching her sister ascend, Luciana's own 'wing' faintly flickered into view, a bittersweet reminder of her difference. While her siblings and father were gifted with flight and elemental powers, Luciana inherited her late mother's rare traits: white hair, pale silver eyes, and a voice that could heal.
Luciana was a legend in her own right, renowned for her voice, said to be so enchanting it could move the heavens and even revive the dead. Though she dismissed such rumors as exaggerated, her voice brought comfort to those who heard it. To escape from her worries, she often spent her time singing or reading, her voice lifting her spirits when nothing else could.
As she ascended the stairs, Luciana sang softly, her melody filling the air. By the time she reached the palace, servants and subjects alike gazed skyward, captivated by her voice. The grand hall doors, adorned with pure quartz and gold, opened before her.
"Announcing the arrival of Her Highness, Princess Luciana, First Ray of Light of the Amanécer Empire," called the guard.
Luciana entered with grace, bowing before the empire's ruler, her father, Emperor Helios Aidan Mircéa de Amanécer.
"Luciana Mircéa greets the Holy Light of Amanécer," she said humbly, her elegance undeniable.
Helios, with his radiant golden eyes and platinum blonde hair, smiled faintly. "Sit by my side," he said, gesturing to the seat once occupied by her late mother. Luciana hesitated but complied, taking her place beside him—a rare honor.
"I have something important to discuss with you, Luciana," the Emperor began. Her sisters stood nearby, except for Avlynn, who flew into Luciana's arms, nestling into her lap.
Luciana wrapped her arm around her youngest sister and give a gentle peck on her forehead.
Helios cleared his throat, continuing, "The imperial family has arranged a union with the Caelus family."