Borne of a Dead Womb

[Kayne]

Rain fell from the sky, the droplets as silken as tears, caressing Lilia's face and mingling with the beads of sweat dotting her brow. The rain sparkled brilliantly like precious gems as they fell along the flamboyant autumn leaves. Straining in labor, the young woman let out a muffled moan of pain, which was barely audible within the sweeping sigh of rainfall. She turned her face up to the sky and tasted the cool, wet rain. It soaked her skin and mixed with the tears running down her face. She was in pain, there was no doubt, but her tears were not shed for herself, but for the child nestled in her womb, ready to be birthed. She knew what was to come...

---

Lilia was grievously ill, falling sickly nearly a month and a half before she was expected to give birth. She grew pale, more so than normal for her fair complexion. She was bathed in a cold sweat nearly perpetually. Her breaths came at short intervals, her chest heaving with exertion, rising and falling swiftly. As the pregnancy advanced, her condition worsened. Lilia was dying, and now she was in labor.

Earlier she had gone for a walk to a stream, just beyond the mercenary encampment. They were a small band of mercenaries serving in wars to the highest bidder led by Maxus Bludd, a renowned warrior both ruthless and relentless as well as Lilia's lover. He was her rescuer somewhere between half a year to a year ago when she fled from capture by Giants, and for that she owed him everything. Lilia herself was a cunning fighter that aided in many missions alongside Maxus, before they knew she was pregnant.

While promenading along the gentle currents of the stream she was overcome with a fit of coughing along with a sharp pain in her pelvic region and Lilia collapsed along the water's edge.

She was later found unconscious alongside the creek and taken to the camp healer, an old druidess. The old woman was no cleric, however she was skilled in her own way and saved many lives of those maimed in battle or those that have fallen ill yet despite her experience, she was perplexed by Lilia's terrible condition. Lilia had regained consciousness later in the day and awoke to find Maxus standing beside her bed, looking down at her with a concerned look. As resilient as she was despite her condition, Lilia tried to get out of bed, but was much too weak. Maxus went to aid her; however, the old druidess saw this and ordered him to lay her back down.

Maxus sneered at the woman and growled, "It's only a fever. Give her something for it, and we'll be on our way."

"It's not a fever, as you well know, my lord," the healer told him. "She's with child, and if she doesn't lie down and remain still she will lose the baby. "

Maxus's face flushed with red, all of the blood boiling up in a rush. Lilia, normally pale herself, turned ghostly white as the blood drained from her face and was forced to reach out and take hold of Maxus' hand. His grip on hers was crushing.

"I want her to lose the poxy brat!" Maxus began to curse, savagely, his grip on Lilia tightening with anger. "The gods-wretched labor will kill her!"

The aged woman pursed her lips and stated plainly, "Aye, she'll lose the baby, but you'll lose yourself Lilia at the same time. She'll die if you don't take care, with or without the baby."

The druidess nursed Lilia during the fever and the beginning stages of labor. She was very weak and could barely lift her head off of the pillow. Maxus had asked if the old woman could give Lilia something to end the labor, but by then, it was too late and Lilia would lose consciousness too easily. Lilia didn't like what she saw in Maxus after learning she was about to give birth to the child, but she was too weak to argue, too weak to do much of anything. From that moment, the mercenary warlord counted down until the baby's birth, swearing, "Soon enough, I'll be rid of the little bastard and we can move on!" He could be heard saying it time and again, as if swearing to seal the child's fate himself.

When the time of birthing came, the young woman was far too weak to stand up to the contractions. Her body stiffened and convulsed with the strain of supporting her own life while giving birth to a baby following the first couple of kicks. Somehow she found enough strength to thrash out during a particularly strong contraction, until she let out a wail and went limp. Her arms fell limp, dangling at the bedside. Her eyes remained wide with pain and staring out into nothingness. Before they were able to even prolong her life to save the baby she had passed.

Overcome with grief, Maxus began pounding on her chest, "Wake up, you wench! Don't leave me!"

Suddenly, both the old druidess and Maxus stood there with their mouths agape as they heard something unexpected -- The sound of a baby crying.