Rebirth

(Lower realms- Nascent Aether, Kingdom of Cyndor)

"It seems a storm is approaching, and a rather strange one at that," remarked a man who appeared to be in his mid-forties, as he gazed out from the balcony of his grand estate, seemingly in a somber mood. 

"Father, you summoned me?" inquired the younger man who had stepped into the room, bowing respectfully. He bore a remarkable resemblance to the older man. This was Damien von Blackthorn, heir to the Blackthorn family. 

"Yes Damien, I did," Evander responded in a detached tone. "But before we proceed, I hear your lover has gone into labor, has she not?"

"Yes father," Damien answered his voice tight with barely contained anger. "But she is struggling, and Natalia's interference has made matters worse…"

Evander turned from the balcony to face his son, his gaze sharp.

"Natalia acted as she did because you insulted both her and our family by consorting with that savage woman!"

"Fath-"

"You will address me as your patriarch!"

Evander interrupted his voice sharp as a brief but powerful surge of energy sent Damien staggering backward.

After a brief pause, Evander's expression softened, and he spoke in a calmer manner. 

"Your recent actions are giving the elder council a reason to act against the head family, so I'm sending you out to acquire enough merit to prove otherwise."

Evader lingered for a split second, but not giving his son a chance to respond, he continued.

"The royal family has sent word. Our enemies are causing unrest at the borders, and you have been ordered to lead our forces to quell them. Select men from our ranks and depart at once." 

Evander looked at his son, his expression not leaving any chance for excuses.

"Yes fath-, Patriarch…" Damien replied, his voice laced with helplessness and resignation. 

As Evander had foretold, a storm descended later that night, bringing with it torrential rain, bright flashes of lightning, and deafening claps of thunder. The roaring thunder drowned out all other sounds within the mansion, including the anguished cries of Emma as she endured the throes of labor. 

 "Just a few more pushes, madam!" The mid wife encouraged, her voice soft yet steady as Emma struggled through another wave of pain.

"Ahhhhhh!" 

With a guttural scream, Emma pushed once more, her entire body slick with perspiration, making her pale skin glisten under the dim light of the room. Beads of tears formed at the corners of her eyes as the agony grew nearly unbearable. And despite her efforts, there seemed to be no progress, causing the midwife's troubled expression to deepen.

Emalani, once the last surviving member of a native tribe that dwelled within the vast forests of Blackthorn territory, had been rescued by Damien after her people fell victim to a devastating beast tide. Through the dangers they faced together, their bond deepened, and the two eventually fell in love. And not long after, as fate would have it, Emalani found herself with child.

Unfortunately, things weren't as simple. The purist idealism of noble society had frowned on their relationship. In other to protect his lover and unborn child, Damien had altered Emalani's name to Emma von Blackthorn taking her in as a mere concubine. 

Despite her pitiful state, Emma still seemed like an otherworldly fairy bathed in the radiance of the room's light source. She possessed silky black hair which directly contrasted to her pale white skin where small reptilian scales of the same color could be seen at her neck and shoulder, that and her deep blue eyes with slits as pupils hinted at her non-human origins. 

"Mi… Mira." Emma whispered hoarsely, her voice weakened from the relentless screams of labor. She called to her maid servant, who had been gently dabbing her forehead with a cool, damp cloth.

"Yes madam?" Mira instantly ceased her task and responded at once.

"Damien… where is he?" Emma inquired, her voice barely above a whisper.

 "The young patriarch was summoned on a mission by the patriarch, madam. But don't worry as he will surely return to you as soon as he is able. So please, madam, deliver a strong, healthy son to surprise him upon his return." Mira replied, her youthful optimism clear in her tone as she attempted to offer comfort.

"Yes… you're right." Emma replied, her expression resolute despite her exhaustion.

"I'm going to push again." She informed the midwife, who nodded and quickly moved into position.

Summoning the last remnants of her strength, Emma pushed with all her might. As she did, the storm outside roared with a brilliant flash of purple lightning, illuminating the room. Her pain-filled efforts were finally rewarded, as the baby at last came forth into the world. 

"You have done it madam, it is a boy!" Mira exclaimed, her voice a mix of excitement and emotion as she assisted the midwife in the necessary cleanup.

"My son… my dearest Seth." 

Emma whispered her voice weak but filled with joy, tears gathering in her eyes as she cradled the infant close. Strangely, the usual cries of a newborn did not follow, and the child remained silent in his mother's arms. 

Only after the midwife confirmed the infant was alive did she stopped being tense.

"Forgive me…" Emma murmured tearfully, her voice trembling as warm tears rolled down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry to have brought you into this cruel, unforgiving world and under such circumstances no less."

"Your mother is wretched, for I have no choice but to leave you just as you have entered this life. But never forget that I love you, and always will."

"Madam, what are you saying all of a sudden?" 

Mira began to ask, but her voice faltered as a look of horror took hold of her features after she took notice of the blood that trickled down the corner of Emma's mouth.

"Madam!"

Mira cried, rushing to her side. Her horror deepened as she noticed dark veins creeping across Emma's pale skin. The midwife, skilled in the medical arts, quickly examined her and shook her head with a heavy sigh.

"It is a miracle she was able to bring this child into the world at all. She has been poisoned, and it seems she used all her internal force to protect the baby, at the cost of her own life. I fear there is no hope for her."

"Mira…" Emma called softly, her voice scarcely audible.

"Yes, madam?" Mira replied, her voice quivering through her tears.

"Please, take care of Seth. It is selfish of me to ask, but you're the only one I trust with this." Emma whispered, her strength nearly gone.

"Madam, you may rely on me, I shall see to-" Mira's voice broke as she realized that Emma had taken her final breath.

"Madam!"

"Madam please wake up!"

While Mira mourned the passing of her mistress, the door to the chambers suddenly swung open revealing a man of middle aged appearance, his black hair framing a face marked by the distinctive red eyes of the Blackthorn lineage. He strode in with a nonchalant air, his expression unreadable.

Upon recognizing the visitor, the midwife immediately bowed deeply, a gesture of utmost respect.

"This humble servant pays her respect to the patriarch." She murmured, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and reverence.

Evander's gaze fell upon Mira, who had yet to offer the proper courtesies. His voice, devoid of warmth broke the silence.

"You are consumed by grief for the departed, so I shall pardon your lack of respect." He stated coldly.

"Give the child to me." Evander commanded. The midwife without a moment's hesitation took the infant from Mira's arms and presented him to the patriarch.

After placing the child in Evander's arms, the midwife promptly explained how Emma had shielded the infant from poisoning, an act that had ultimately cost her life. Having listened to her account, Evander reached out and pried open one of the baby's eyelids with his fingers.

"A half-blood will always remain a half-blood…" Evander remarked icily, his gaze fixed on the child's oddly colored eyes.

"Protected this child indeed…" he asked with slight sarcasm.

"Then she did a wretched job despite her attempts, the child's meridians are gravely damaged and a grave number of his force veins have been corroded." He revealed indifferently.

"The boy will possess an unnaturally weak body and would be unable to use any internal force, he is no different from a cripple." 

Evander added completely ignoring the look of despair on Mira's face which only grew as he continued.

With that, he handed the child back and departed without another word, leaving Mira to stifle her sobs behind her hand, silent tears falling as she cradled the sleeping infant in her arms.