{Prologue}
“Where's my baby! I want to hold him, please let me hold him. Let me see him!” A lady panted frantically.
The room was near silent, the beeping from machines surrounding the patients, the cries of the woman desperate for her newborn, the air hissing through a miniature oxygen mask, feeding air to the silent baby.
“Why can't I hear his cries, what's wrong please... Jane, please tell me,” the woman pleaded, tears running down the face lined with fatigue and sweat.
Jane's face was filled with a strange disappointment, her head stared at her feet as she slowly inched closer towards the desperate woman.
“I want to hold him, why can't you give him to me.”
The doctor cleared his throat, an aura of disappointment loomed around him, “I apologise for your loss Eve. But it seems the difficulties during your birth were far to much for him, he has passed on,” he sighed, his pride and happiness slowly deflating.
“What... no but, I had a perfect pregnancy! I know I did all I could to make everything go well, you said everything was perfect.”
Her breathing was ragged and unsteady, her legs still shook and quivered under the sheets. Sweat dripped onto the sheets from her forehead, the smell of the drugs and blood intruded into ones nose, making all feel dizzy. Her bed was painted beautifully with the colours from the setting sun, sounds of the waves matching the steady rhythm of the respirator forcing oxygen into the baby.
“Sometimes... A perfect pregnancy is never enough, I'm so sorry Eve,” the doctor said.
He stood there, pale green eyes tinged with a significant disappointment with himself. His well built body stood tall, easily being a head and a half taller then the Jane. He ruffled his messy black hair, rubbing his near flawless face in frustration before flicking his wrist up which quickly followed with the sound of cracking bones. He put his hand into his pocket, looking down at his feet.
“Tim,” Jane exclaimed, nudging him in the shoulder.
“You were my mid-wife! This is your fault!” She screamed, making a feeble attempt to slap her across the face, her arm falling before it left the boundaries of the bed railing. “My Jeremy, my Jeremy, no! This isn't happening. This is a nightmare, none of this is real. You aren't really there, I'm still in bed... sleeping. So please, please wake me up! Please.”
Jane's eyes were bewildered, unable to understand the accusations being thrown harshly at her. She finally sighed looking towards the baby, her eyes narrowing slightly as she picked the baby up gently, as if it were still alive and breathing, crying for its mother. She sighed again, walking out of the door. The doctor stood there, listening to the woman's cries briefly before quietly disappearing from the room.
“How did it go,” the mid-wife stood outside holding the baby tightly in her arms, hiding his face from the intense light above.
Her almost unnaturally pale skin didn't match her job, nor the skin of any who have to travel to work. Her blonde hair cascaded around her face made her look even more sickly and pale as she turned her head towards the doctor.
“Headmaster will be happy,” he looked down at the baby who was slowly opening his eyes for the first time, being greeted by the intense lighting of the light above him.
She smiled, “What beautiful eyes.”
His emerald green eye stared at her with an intensity not meant to be seen in an infant. He shuffled in his blankets bringing his tiny hands closer to his face.
“It will show soon, we will see if our presumptions were right.”
The baby blinked, his iris briefly changing colour and shape into a lifeless grey, distorted three point star. He blinked again, his iris's returning to their former brilliant green. The two smiled, Jane heaving a deep breathe before walking out of the hospital, her clothes changing into normal attire in the brief moment she was behind a pillar. Tim shook his head, sighing before a car rounded the roundabout, stopping in front of them. The door swung opening, letting the cooling air escape into the sweltering heat.
“Headmaster?!” Tim exclaimed confusion painted across his face.
“Good afternoon Tim, Jane...” He paused, looking towards the baby, “Jeremy,” his iris morphed into a much more intricate shape as they entered the car with him. He grinned, waving his hand at the door, closing it before driving.
