- 266 A.C. -
- Unknown Location -
Aaaaaah! In the highest peaks of an unknown place, the sounds of a woman wailing can be heated echoing through the air.
"Push, my lady, push," urged a man seated at the foot of a bed, his robes damp, the chains across his chest shimmering in the moonlight.
"WHAT IN THE SWAMPY HELL'S DO YOU THINK I'M DOING, MAESTER?" the woman's shout roared through the room.
The maester flinched yet kept his composure, accustomed to the ferocity of women in labor. The room was thick with the scent of sweat and herbs, the air heavy with anticipation. Outside, the wind howled, as if the very land was responding to the struggle within.
"My lady Liana, you must keep going," the maester urged, his voice gentler now. He wiped his brow, the strain of the moment evident in his furrowed expression. The woman lying in the dimly lit chamber of Nightfall was Liana Blackthorne, Lady of House Blackthorne. Her usually striking and regal appearance was softened by the weariness of labor. Her long, dark hair, typically woven into intricate braids, now fell loosely around her shoulders, damp with sweat from the effort of childbirth.
Her emerald-green eyes, usually sharp and alert, now glistened with both exhaustion and fierce determination as she brought new life into the world. Despite the physical strain, her gaze remained intense, a reflection of the strength that defined her lineage.
The elaborate tribal markings on her face—symbols of her connection to the jungle and her people—were slightly smudged from the exertion, but they still added a touch of mysticism to her appearance. The emeralds and beads that adorned her jewelry, usually glowing with vitality, seemed to take on a softer hue, echoing the flickering torch light in the chamber.
Around her neck, the traditional necklace of House Blackthorne still hung, a symbol of her status and the legacy she would pass on to her Child. The once vibrant patterns on her ceremonial dress, made of finely woven jungle fibers, were now damp with sweat, clinging to her body as she labored. Despite the disarray, there was an undeniable beauty in her appearance—a raw, elemental grace that shone through even in her most vulnerable moment.
As she clutched the beds sheets, the exhaustion of labor etched itself across her features, and yet there was also a sense of profound serenity and strength. She was a warrior, a lady of the jungle, and a soon to be mother.
The room's only other occupant, a midwife with experienced hands, moved to support Liana, murmuring words of encouragement. "It's almost over, my lady. Our god is with you."
Liana let out a low, guttural cry, her body tensing with the effort. The maester leaned closer, his eyes focused intently. The moonlight streaming through the high windows caught the glint of something sharp—a ceremonial dagger placed on the bedside table, a relic of the house, waiting for the moment of birth.
With one final, agonizing push, the room fell silent. Liana's scream gave way to the weak, gasping cry of a newborn. The maester carefully lifted the child, wrapping him in a soft cloth, his hands trembling slightly.
"It's a boy, my lady," he whispered, his voice filled with awe as he presented the child to the exhausted mother. "A strong, healthy boy."
Liana, her face pale but determined, reached out with trembling hands to take her son. The baby's cries softened as he was placed in his mother's arms, his tiny fists clenched as if already grasping for the future that awaited him. She gazed down at him, her heart swelling with love and pride.
But before she could fully embrace the moment, the maester's expression changed. His brow furrowed, and he quickly turned his attention back to the bed.
"My lady…" he began, his voice tinged with both surprise and urgency. "There's another."
The mother's eyes widened in shock as another wave of pain gripped her. She barely had time to react before, with a final effort, a second cry filled the room—softer, but just as determined.
"A girl," the maester announced, astonishment coloring his voice as he gently lifted the unexpected child. He wrapped the baby girl in another soft cloth, carefully cradling her in his arms. "A beautiful, healthy girl."
The mother, still reeling from the shock, stared at the tiny figure in the maester's arms. Her breath came in shallow gasps as the reality of what had just occurred settled over her. Twins. She had brought twins into the world.
The maester brought the baby girl to her, laying her gently beside her brother. Liana, her strength waning but her heart full, looked at both of her children, marveling at the miracle of their birth. The boy, already strong and sure, and the girl, a delicate surprise but no less fierce.
"Lucian," she whispered, naming her firstborn with pride. Then, turning to the unexpected gift of her daughter, she smiled through her tears. "And Amara. My Lucian and Amara Blackthorne."
The winds outside seemed to calm as the name was spoken, as though even the elements recognized the birth of someone destined for greatness—or perhaps, for something far darker.
"Abruptly, the door to the humid room swung open, nearly ripping from its hinges. A tall, lean man stood in the doorway with an imposing presence, his body adorned in intricate green and black tribal ritual regalia. His skin was marked with dark, swirling tattoos that echoed the patterns of the jungle. His chest was bare, revealing a muscular physique, the sinews of his arms taut and defined as if chiseled from stone."
He wore a magnificent headdress, crafted from long, dark feathers that fanned out behind him, with streaks of black and green shimmering in the dim moon light. The headdress was crowned with a carved wooden totem at the front, symbolizing the revered black panther that represented their house. His face was partially painted with dark markings, giving him a fierce and almost otherworldly appearance.
Around his neck hung a large, circular medallion made of polished emerald, engraved with ancient symbols. His arms and wrists were adorned with green and black armbands, intricately detailed with tribal motifs. A long, dark green loincloth with black patterns hung from his waist, fastened by a leather belt adorned with small, carved bones and beads. His feet were bare, planted firmly on the ground, exuding a primal strength and connection to the earth.
His piercing eyes, shadowed by the headdress, reflected the wisdom and ferocity of a man who had long ruled over the jungles of the Emerald Isle. As he spoke, his voice was a low growl, filled with authority and an undercurrent of urgency.
"Where are my cubs?" he demanded, his tone as sharp as the blades hidden beneath his ritual attire, each word carrying the weight of his lineage and the ferocity of the wild.
"Arikan, my love, our son Lucian, and our daughter Amara, our new cubs." Liana, having yet to fully regain her strength, still managed to sit up and present the wailing babies to him. Her gaze, though weary, was filled with pride as she looked at her newborns.
"Wait, cubs?" Maester Orwyn's face held a bewildered expression. "My lord, you referred to them as 'cubs.' Did you know we were expecting twins?" A palpable silence swept through the room, the maester's eyes narrowing with suspicion.
"Ah, just a slip of the tongue, not something to overthink, Maester Orwyn," Arikan said, his voice carrying a hint of defensiveness but quickly shifting to a more relaxed tone. An awkward silence enveloped the room, the tension palpable.
"Ha ha, anyway, let me see my children. Lucian and Amara—Thalios has blessed our house once again," Arikan continued, his voice softening as he approached the cradle where his newborns lay. His gaze was filled with a fierce, tender pride as he looked upon his children, the legacy of House Blackthorne now resting in their tiny hands.
The maester, sensing the gravity of the moment and the importance of the occasion, offered a respectful nod and withdrew quietly, leaving the new parents to savor the first precious moments with their children.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Thank you for reading! As a somewhat new writer, I'm always happy to improve and grow, so any constructive criticism is more than welcome. Also, if have any questions, notice any mistakes or have suggestions on how to enhance the story, please let me know. Your feedback is greatly appreciated!