Warmth and a name

Amidst the steady glow of the night stars, glowing streaks flare up across the sky before quickly fading out. A rare meteor shower is visible all over the land except one place.

Large dark clouds cover a region of thick overgrown forest. A deluge pours down on the denizens beneath. One particular humanoid figure walks through the forest. Strangely, the downpour seems to bend around the figure.

The figure wears a dark green cloak and in the right-hand carries a basket filled with various plants and fungi. A pale light with no apparent source floats above the figure's other hand dimly illuminating the surroundings. The light reveals the figure's visage to be that of a beautiful woman.

There is a sheen from the light across her soft brown hair. Her hair frames her smooth rounded face creating a lovely portrait filled with worry. Her almond brown eyes constantly shift around at her surroundings, cautious for danger, while her full lips press together in concern. Her rounded eyebrows slightly pinch together as strange sounds seem to echo through the forest.

The sounds resemble the wail of crying infants to her. As she continues, the sound nags her almost in a taunting manner. Old painful memories surge up from the depths of her mind as her teeth slightly move, making to bite for her bottom lip. She tries to focus her vision on a potential source for the sound but is only met with the depths of the forest. The wailing soon fades to silence.

The woman's name is Melinda. A woman she was friends with, had recently given birth to a baby girl. The woman had fallen slightly ill and Melinda had taken it upon herself to gather some herbs to alleviate her condition from the neighboring forest.

Despite the danger, Melinda knew she could safely traverse the forest. Still, with the sudden downpour slowing her movement, night had fallen and the shadows of the forest grew ever longer. They seemed to wrap around the light, hiding unknown dangers.

"How unlucky. It'll be another half an hour before I make it out of these woods. I hope Cheryl will be alright," the woman remarked.

When she thought of the ill mother she was reminded of the time she found that she would never bear children. Five years ago she received the devastating news that she was infertile. It was only three years ago she ended up in a frontier town far away from her family. Two and a half years ago she met Cheryl and her other acquaintances.

They were all from families without anyone to support them. Some of them had lost their husbands in some war, some lost their breadwinners to the forest, while the rest grew up from a broken family.

Cheryl's group had ended up turning to prostitution to survive. The main issue with their work was that it was unsafe. None of them were particularly strong and it was frequent that they would be abused and wouldn't get paid.

Melinda changed all that. She placed all of them under her protection and opened a brothel to give them a secure place to do business. She established codes of conduct for their clients and left violators with many broken body parts. The women were all regarded Melinda as their savior and treated her like family.

Melinda's thoughts drove her to pick up the pace. Her legs move swifter as her originally spotless cloak picks up muddy splotches from the large splashes she can no longer keep back with her magic. She swiftly navigates the gnarled roots and muddy ground at her feet when the wailing that sounds like crying infants picks up again.

It sounds all around her, leaving her unable to trace the source. Eventually, she decides to leave it. The forest has been known to make all sorts of strange sounds and this one should be no different.

'It's more important to get these herbs to Cheryl than to worry about some strange sounds.' Melinda's thoughts further push her onwards as she races back toward town.

It is only when she reaches the edge of the forest that the wailing stops. However, far from being silent, there is a soft hoarse sound coming from nearby. It is almost inaudible in the storm but originates from a place close enough for Melinda to pick it up.

She turns toward the source and sees a small bundle of cloth completely soaked from the rain. Her eyes focus on the bundle which seems to shiver under her gaze. Melinda approaches and discovers a small baby swaddled in the cloth.

The baby appears to be a days-old male newborn. He has soft dark blue hair barely visible in the night. His eyes remain hidden behind tightly shut eyes. Wrapped around his neck is a necklace with a leather cord and a rough purple gem with a red core. Melinda sets down her basket and touches the baby's forehead only for goosebumps to spread across her arm from how cold he is.

The shivers Melinda saw were from the baby's natural reaction to try and warm up only to fail. The soft hoarse sounds she had heard were the baby's cries coming from his throat that had long ago become sore.

Melinda thinks back to her own infertility and her lovely lips purse together in a frown while her eyebrows furrow together. Her stomach turns at the thought of someone giving up something that she had wanted not too long ago. A short wheeze pulls for her from her stupor as sympathy washes away the anger. She disperses the light above her other hand and picks up the baby.

Cradling him in her left arm, she waves her right hand in a flourish towards the infant as the rain around her comes together in a stream to wash over him. The mud that stained the cloth bundle is pulled away until it is spotless. All the rain that was sponged up is also pulled out, leaving behind a dry cloth and baby.

Melinda pulls the baby closer into her ample bosom to warm him up. As tender motherly feelings well up, Melinda thinks that perhaps the parents had run into an unfortunate accident and she slightly regrets her earlier lapse of anger.

'Every parent would surely want a baby as lovely as this one, right?'

"Until we find your parents, how about you let me take care of you cutie pie?" Melinda coos.

The shivering having slightly died down, the baby opens his eyes revealing his dark purple irises. His mouth is still slightly open, but no longer uttering hoarse cries.

He looks Melinda right in her eyes doe-eyed. His eyes shine like gems even in the black of night.

Melinda's breathing quickens and her heart quivers from how adorable he is. A soft smile adorns her face as she picks up her herb basket and proceeds on her way without breaking eye contact.

Melinda's eyes tear up at the thought of having a son as she exits the forest. The overcast sky clears up revealing little stars twinkling to say hello.

"Hmm, now that I think about it, you'll need a name. I think I'll call you Kael."