Cealia

Life isn't easy.

Wrapped around a worn-out bloody cloth is a baby. Lying on a beaten wooden carrier log just big enough for her. She is alone, cold, hurting, and hungry. Crying for her mother. Begging for warmth. All she can do is cry or die.

Left on a foggy twilight. Her cries echo, her spirit dim. She will die in a few hours.

Then, heavy footsteps approach her. A frightening, huge figure stops in front of her. His breath was heavy and warm, breaking the cold air between them. He stops to look at the infant. Why leave her here? Did they want her to die? Get eaten by the hungry beast? No... The infant is drenched in blood that isn't hers. The figure ponders. She looks up at him and stops crying. Both motionless. He leans down and lifts the wooden log. He wraps her with his scarf and throws her behind his back, and ties her securely. As they leave, a carving appears on the log and glows. It reads, "Cealia; magic runs deep. With you always." The figure and infant disappear into the twilight darkness.