The Voice Within

Prologue

It was the middle of the night. All the candles in the houses were out, and the only light in the village came from the street lamps, casting faint glows along the road. The only souls still wandering were the drunks, stumbling home from the local tavern after a long night of ale and revelry. Silence blanketed the village, save for one thing. Deep within the heart of the town, a single house flickered with candlelight.

Outside, a wagon and horse waited patiently, ready to depart as soon as their master returned. From this house came the sound of something dreadful—screaming, as though someone were dying. Inside, a pregnant woman lay on the floor, cradled by another woman, while at her feet stood a man urgently giving instructions. On this dark and stormy night, her son was about to be born.

The woman, Meredith, had long brown hair braided over her shoulder. The man, a sturdy figure with short-cropped hair and thin glasses, barked orders as he hurriedly prepared towels for the child. His build and composure resembled a member of the royal guard.

"Push, Meredith! Just a little more, I can see his head! You're doing great, my girl, just one final push!" shouted the doctor, his voice filled with both urgency and encouragement. Outside, the wind picked up, rattling the house and blowing out the windows and doors, extinguishing all but the fireplace's flame—the last light remaining. The doctor ignored the chaos outside, focused on the task at hand. He would not lose this baby, storm or no storm.

As Meredith continued to push, the storm worsened, thunder cracking louder with each attempt as if the heavens themselves responded to the birth. The doctor noticed the pattern but had no time to dwell on it—he needed Meredith to push one last time.

"Doctor Ivan, how much longer?" Meredith's voice trembled, weak and desperate. "I don't think I can go on."

"She's lost too much blood," the nurse whispered, her voice tinged with fear.

"Quiet, nurse!" Ivan snapped, though he shared her concern. "You're almost there, Meredith. One more push! You can do this!" Though he tried to sound confident, he knew the truth. She was fading fast, and if this final push didn't work, neither she nor the baby would survive.

With a scream of sheer willpower, Meredith gave one last effort, and as she did, a brilliant flash of lightning lit the sky, followed by a thunderous roar so loud it shook the earth. It felt as though the gods themselves had torn open the heavens. But then, at last, the baby was born.

Exhausted and barely able to breathe, Meredith collapsed back as the doctor wrapped the newborn boy in a towel. The nurse took the child to clean him, but before Ivan could relax, something strange caught his eye. The fire in the hearth had suddenly grown, flickering higher than before. And within the flames, he thought he saw a face—a smile. He blinked, rubbed his eyes behind his glasses, and looked again. The face was gone, and the storm outside had ceased. He dismissed it as a trick of the light, the stress of the night playing tricks on his mind.

He turned his attention back to the baby. As he unwrapped the infant to check for any complications, something caught his eye—this was no ordinary child. The boy was a half-elf.

"Where did she meet an elf?" Ivan wondered to himself. "Elves don't interact with humans...not anymore."

"Is there something wrong, Doctor?" Meredith asked, her voice faint but laced with concern.

Quickly regaining his composure, Ivan bundled the baby back up. "No, no. He's perfectly healthy, ma'am. But...he's a half-elf. If I may ask, who is his father?"

Meredith's face drained of color, her eyes wide with fear. "Someone...important. No one can know he exists, Doctor. If they find out about him...they'll kill him. I have to protect him...I have to protect Ryker..." Her words trailed off as she began to lose consciousness, her arms slackening around the baby.

The doctor rushed to catch Ryker, handing him to the nurse while he attempted to stabilize Meredith. "She's lost too much blood! We need to get her to my office. Quickly, help me move her to the carriage!"

As Ivan prepared to move her, Meredith weakly reached out, grabbing his hand. With her last breath, she whispered, "Protect him...protect Ryker...please..." Then, her hand fell lifelessly to the floor.

On the 14th day of summer, in the year 375 BTF, Ryker Willows was born.