Fabricated Peace.

"Mana sponge?" Arla asked looking around the room.

"He is referring to me." Ikaris sighed and poured at Sol for using such a term. "More specifically, the baby."

"Is there something wrong with her?" All three women approached Ikaris basically brushing sol to the side like a dirty rag and surrounding her.

"Are you hurt?"

"Is the baby okay?"

"What happened?"

"H-hold on, one question at a time!" Ikaris looked at them consecutively as the questions of concern came at her faster than she could answer.