The darkness accompanied by night was vast and endless, silver stars scattered across the sky. A pale bluish glow pierced through cotton-like clouds, covering the land and sea, pushing back the shroud of night. There, in the vast expanse, stood a lonely, round moon, watching over all existence, drowning everything in its soft glow. Beneath it, towers reached for the heavens, castles perched atop tall mountains, and a river reflected the moon's gentle light, while a hushed gust whispered through the silent forest filled with bushy trees—a ghastly silence. The leaves rustled, as if murmuring softly, their thick canopies forming a barrier against the moonlight, hiding the life and dangers creeping within. Small cities nestled near the valley, supported by the ever-flowing river.
A particular two-story house stood near the forest, its wood old and worn. Through the window, a pale woman lay on the bed, sweat rolling down her forehead, her teeth gritted in pain unknowingly. Beside her, a doctor moved with practiced hands, his expression calm and stoic. Outside the room, a man—her husband—stood, worry etched across his face as he whispered prayers under his breath. His heart pounded in fear with every scream of his beloved wife, longing to help, yet all he could do was wait.
"Oh, Mother of Growth, please let my Rias live... please… Give her strength, keep her safe."
Armin's heart tightened with every agonizing cry from his wife. Then, suddenly—silence. No whispers, no cries… Only the sound of wind blowing softly through the house. He did not care about anything else and kept praying, desperately pleading for the safety of his wife.
A hand on his shoulder broke him from his desperate prayers. He turned to see the doctor, a man in his thirties with blue eyes and neatly combed brown hair. His clean-shaven face was lined with exhaustion.
"Andrew... how's Rias?" His voice came out hoarsely, barely holding together.
Andrew met his eyes, his expression grim. With a sigh, he spoke, "She's safe. Don't worry about her, Armin…" Relief washed over him, setting a calmness around his heart –until the next word shattered it "but now you have to worry about the baby."
Armin's heart sank. Though relieved that his wife was alive, knowing that his child was in danger tore at him. His arms trembled, eyes wide with desperation. Gripping Andrew's arm tightly, his voice filled with raw pleading, "Have you done everything? Please… save my baby. For the love of the Mother of Growth, just save—"
Andrew's expression was complicated as he spoke with an indifferent tone, "Damn it, A divine healer would be more useful right now rather than me. I wouldn't need to gamble with a life here." He sighed again, rubbing his temple with frustration. "I'll try again, but don't get your hopes too high, Armin."
Armin nodded weakly and continued whispering prayers. He was never a devout believer, but desperation had driven him to pray to the only hope he could cling to—the Mother of Growth, Goddess of life, nurture, and renewal.
Inside the room, Rias lay on the bed, her body tense, breath uneven, eyes half-closed. Drenched in sweat after hours of struggle, she lay motionless. The sheets beneath her were twisted, her fingers once gripping them tightly, now loosened. The only sign of life was the faint rise and fall of her chest, each breath more fragile than the last.
The door creaked open as Andrew entered. His gaze swept over the room before he swiftly moved toward the bed and administered an injection to stabilize her condition. Assured of her safety, he bent down to where the infant lay—pale and limp, with no signs of life.
"This… it's clearly lack of oxygen… this little body is too weak…"
Recalling a case he had heard of before, Andrew quickly prepared two basins of hot and cold water, his mind racing. It was a last-ditch effort, his only remaining option. He wrapped the baby in a blanket, attempting artificial respiration. Then, like a mad juggler, he hurriedly plunged the infant between the two basins—first into icy cold water, then into steaming hot water.
Fifteen minutes passed.
Outside, Armin stood, pacing in desperation, whispering prayers, clinging onto hope.
Sweat dripped into Andrew's eyes, blinding him. One of his sleeves hung down, soaking wet. But still, no breath came from the child's lax body. Just as defeat began to settle in, somewhere far away, surrounded by gray fog, Adriana's spirit began to dissipate into light. Her thoughts were sluggish, her consciousness floating like a dream. A pull—something was calling her back. Her mind, too blurry to resist, followed the pull, floating through a space filled with illusory lights, her spirit being dragged towards something unknown. A voice soft and reassuring whispered in her mind as she surrendered to sleep.
Andrew, determined, continued his efforts. One last time, he rubbed the child's tiny body with a rough towel, crushing and releasing the little chest with both hands, trying desperately to force breath into the lifeless form.
His vision blurred as he kept rubbing the lifeless body of the child, which was like some slippery fish now. A memory flashed before his eyes—another desperate night, another small, fragile form slipping away in his hands. The weight of failure, the agony of helplessness. "Not again..".
He pleaded, "C'mon, please breathe… Please…"
Then—a faint glow appeared. Like embers flickering in the rain, barely noticeable. The light surrounded the infant's heart.
Outside the room, Armin, restless, recalled the dreams he had shared with his wife—of having a little daughter, of watching her grow.
Inside, Andrew felt something beneath his fingers—a faint pulse. At first, he wasn't sure. But then, the pulse grew stronger, moment by moment—a miracle. Life was returning. The baby gasped, a bubble of mucus escaping one tiny nostril.
Relief surged through Andrew's exhausted body. "With this, my debt is paid," he mumbled under his heavy breath. After his hard labor, he could not resist—his strength failed him, and he fell to the floor with his arms spread wide.
Armin's desperate prayers were interrupted by a faint cry. At first, he thought he had imagined it. He listened again—there it was, muffled by the whispering wind. A cry. His heart leaped. Without hesitation, he rushed into the room, nearly breaking the door off its hinges. His eyes widened in sheer joy as he saw Andrew lying on the floor, exhausted, and the baby—alive, pink, and crying.
"Oh, Mother… It's alive… She's alive!" Armin at first thought it was a dream. His lips trembled as no words came out of his mouth. Excitement surged within him, as he no longer able to contain it, a wide smile spread on his face "a miracle..." he whispered under his breath.
Andrew, his arms weak, got up, his body swaying slightly. He carefully handed the baby to Armin. "It's a little baby girl… Oh, and I'll take my leave now."
His voice was indifferent, but he made no mention of payment. He had no desire to taint this moment of joy for his friend.
"You performed a miracle" Armin said, his voice filled with gratitude. "Those healers from the church just play high and mighty, while you… you brought life back."
Andrew merely sighed. "Check on Rias. She must be completely drained after hours of struggle."
Armin nodded, his gaze shifting to his wife. She lay sleeping soundly, exhaustion finally claiming her. Not wanting to disturb her rest, he turned his eyes to the little bundle in his arms. "Such a pretty baby you are. Causing a storm the moment you were born, huh? Well, that much was expected—you are my daughter, after all!" he exclaimed with pride.
The baby opened her eyes, staring at Armin with an innocent, unknowing gaze. An indescribable sense of joy filled him. His body melted under his little angel's gaze. Inside the baby's mind, fleeting thoughts surfaced. "Wh… what is this place? So warm… so safe… is this the new life… that mirror spoke of…?" Adriana felt her mind melting into something new… As sleep claimed her once more, her tiny body relaxing in her father's embrace.
Armin, while admiring the baby, shifts his focus to Rias, his smile wavered with worry. He wanted her to see this–to hold this life she brought after hours of pain and struggle. The faint cries creeped in her ear "is this my baby's cry? She's alive…? Thank heavens…" a sudden thought with gratefulness appeared in her mind as her breath hitched and her fingers twitched against the sheets.
Armin's gaze snapped to her, relief washed over him. He leaned close and whispered to her ear, his whispers filled with emotions. "You're awake.." Rias's gaze unfocus at first, settled on him, then to the small blanket in his hand, and her lips parted as she asked with tears in her eyes…,
"The baby…?" without any word, Armin placed the baby in her arm, as she looked down at the child for first time, her tired eyes filled with tears…