Born in the Flame

Chapter One

"Towels. We need more towels." A midwife said to the apprentice by her side. It had been sixteen hours in the dead of winter trying to help a noble lady give birth. It was long and difficult; and all the while had to be done in secret at the sacred Temple of Flys, the creator god of fire. This child was not like many, the lady had told the two of them. This child would be born with a target on her back, or so the lady had claimed.

"On it." The apprentice called back. Blood had been coating the soft feather bed the lady laid on. Screams of agony were heard regardless of the mattresses' comfort level. It was not easy, the apprentice assumed. She herself had not given birth, but this was the first experience she had with an elven birth. Human births could be difficult as well, but elves had far more complications with birth. The apprentice supposed this was a way to balance out the elves' long lifespans. The lady screamed at no one in particular. Her soft amber eyes were glazed over, her deep brown hair knotted and tangled on top of the soft cotton pillow. A thick coat of sweat was making its way through the long locks of hair.

"You're in luck, the head is crowning." The midwife said in between the lady's grunts. The apprentice could tell the midwife was more trusted than she was. She found it odd that a dawn elf was here in a dwarven territory, but maybe that was why she had to give birth in secret. Either way, it was none of the apprentice's business.

The noble lady pushed and pushed until a small head started to protrude. As the head became more visible, the apprentice saw the pale gray skin and the barest beginnings of coal black hair. A drama was unfolding before her very eyes, this child was most definitely born out of wedlock if this noble dawn elf was giving birth to a dusk elf. The apprentice's eyes widened at the sight, but still continued to stay by the lady's side, patting the sweat from her brow. She could have sworn that the noble lady's eyes blazed while pushing.

"You're doing great. Keep going." The apprentice's master soothed. Both she and her master were dwarves. The contrast between them and the lady were substantial, and regardless of the fact that dwarves hated dawn elves, her master treated the noble lady like any other patient in her care.

The apprentice spared her eyes away from the noble lady to look at the small infant now almost completely out. Small pointed ears, pale grayish skin, and damp coal black hair was what the apprentice could see before the master midwife fully pulled the child out of the noble lady.

"Ah, a girl..." the midwife gave a small smile and exhaled a sigh of relief, "Come, wash her up. I'll take care of the rest."

The apprentice did as she was told, taking the fresh newborn in her hands. When the midwife cut the umbilical cord that still connected daughter to mother, the apprentice exited the room to another with a clean wash basin. A feeble cry could be heard from the infant, a good sign, the apprentice thought.

As the apprentice washed the crying child, she continued to look at the girl. How strange, she thought. The child would be marked for death as soon as she was born, the lady had told the two of them. How could anyone try to kill a child? Even if the child was the result of an affair or out of a moment of passion, she would have assumed the mother would just be able to give the child up after giving birth away from their village or city. That is at all to assume that the dawn elves have any inkling of kindness in their society; but in her knowledge of the race, she didn't think dawn elves did.

A crash sounded from the room the mother and her master were in. Shouts reverberated against the stone walls of the temple. The lady's voice could be heard shouting, followed by her master's voice. The words were muddled, but the apprentice could hear the danger lingering in them. With haste, the apprentice grabbed the child and wrapped her in a rust colored swaddle. Shouts could still be heard through the corridor as she exited the room.