Prologue: Her Weakest Hour

Prologue: Her Weakest Hour

A Chapter by Ashley Campbell

With tear dimmed eyes the woman wound copper hair around her finger as she watched the woman she had almost called sister against the fading sky of a day that the sun had never touched. Sympathy and confusion clouded the surfaces of her mind as she sought for the correct action for her to take. Before her sat a woman many in their small village would call a saint, and here she sat, her heart in her hands. Weeping. Nuonna bit the inside of her lip anxiously as she seemingly inched forward til her slender hands lightly touched the narrow shaking frame. “…Hey.” A breath she heard her take, in a futile attempt to restrict the sobs, and release it, “I understand you’re in pain now and….I know these words aren’t what you want to hear…but…” She paused a moment, knowing her next words would be difficult, “This is for the best. ” Seconds passed that felt like hours before the fair haired elf next to her lifted her head; resentment could almost be seen in the sapphire of her eyes when she rose to her feet. “No. It isn’t.” She breathed before she turned to leave.

The pathways in her village lay abandon for the most part at this time day when the sun hung low and the sky began to fade into black. She took the back way around the houses, not wanting the glances of sympathetic pity anyone who saw her would surely offer; she didn’t want their pity, their sympathy, their well intended gestures. It wouldn’t change what happened then and it certainly wouldn’t heal the unbearable pain that plagued her body now. Unseen she slipped through the door, finally safe from the lives that surely wondered how she faired here; alone. There was new pain here, for nine months she had struggled to make her stand with those around and often times herself. The child was to be half human, worse; it was the embodiment of the hate that ran between the elves and mankind. A constant reminder she was held against her will when the child was conceived, beaten like an animal, she still wondered how anything with feeling could be so demonically cruel.

~
“Athilia, you can’t honestly be serious.” The usual velvet of Nuonna’s smooth voice was coarse;” Do you know what kind of life it would have?”
She nodded slowly; even the smallest twitch still ravished her body with siring pain. “
I am.” Her voice was just above a whisper, “I can’t….I just can’t.
“You can’t just what?” The copper haired elf almost yelled, “You can’t remove the parasite that….that MONSTER put into you?”
It’s still a life I can’t.
Thin lids feel over the woman’s emerald eyes as she sighed, “You don’t have to be a martyr.” She said softly.
I’m not thinking of anyone but myself right now.” Athilia replied, “This child does not deserve to suffer for anyone’s mistakes but its own; thus far it has made none.
The woman felt herself smiling softly as she gently wrapped her arms around the woman she’d known all her life, “If this is what you really want then I’ll not pester you.” She pulled away and looked into her eyes, “As long as this is what you want.”
Athilia nodded, even she herself still wasn’t sure what exactly it was she wanted, but she believed every word she said. “
Will you be ok?” She didn’t offer to speak, merely nodded her head, “Go home.” She gently encouraged, “I promise I’ll be fine.” Three months had passed and she found herself completely in love with the child, often she found herself smiling as her hand gently stroked the small bulge of her stomach. From then on she counted the remaining months, anxiously awaiting the day she would meet the one she knew would bring purpose back into her bleak world.
~

Today had come without the sun, at least for her it had, dawn had just began to color the sky when she had first felt the pains of labor. Now as she lay her tired head back against the pillow she smiled, waiting for the cry that would sound as sweet as rain, minutes passed and slowly her smile faded as she looked toward the woman who hastily worked with the child. One look at the still fragile form and she knew, she knew the child was dead, yet she chewed her lip anxiously; praying the truth wasn’t so. The elder woman turned to her, the child motionless in her arms, “She’s beautiful.” The woman choked, tears visible in her eyes as she gently placed the baby girl in her mother’s arms. Athilia felt tears stinging her own eyes when they fell to inspect the features of the child, her daughter, that now lay in her arms. With delicate finger tips she traced the outline of the child’s face, her tiny lips, her cheeks, her nose. Her ears were elven, almost ensuring her acceptance in their tiny village. “
May I have a moment?” The midwife nodded, “Of course dear.” When they at last were alone she readjusted the blanket around the child, “My dear sweet Oria.” The sound of her name threatened the ocean of tears she fought with all her strength, “I hope.” She choked, “I hope that you can forgive me for simply not being strong enough.” The day had come and almost gone at this point, the heat of the day had already began to subside though the sky had yet to dull in hue, but the sun had never shone. Not here. 

The woman found herself now in an empty tent shaped house just before nightfall. She sighed heavily and made her way around the room, lighting home made candles as she went. A small clay pot sat close to the last candle to be lit, upon its lighting her unusually clumsy hand knocked the small pot to the floor. Shattering to pieces on impact. Minutes passed before she offered to move, her small figure shaking from the vast emotions that coursed through her body: grief, sadness, anger. As if intoxicated by the breaking clay she shattered another pot, and then another, and another, and another. Surrounded by portions of clay she slunk to the floor and there she wept again.

She woke disoriented; the dimly lit room seemed unfamiliar at first as she looked out a window to find the blackness of night had now fully claimed the world outside. Rubbing her still swollen eyes Athilia grabbed her hunting gear and left the small hut. She’d rather be anywhere but there, so a walk amongst nature she felt might do her good; into the forest she went. Alone.



© 2011 Ashley Campbell


Author's Note

Ashley Campbell
Polite constructive criticism welcomed. Don't be a jerk.
If anyone's curious about the meaning of the names just ask :).

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Reviews

Your prologue is beautiful. The reader really feels Athilia's pain as he or she steps into her shoes. I love that you gave us an insight into her head - those thoughts, particularly when she's holding Oria - are very important. They're also heart-wrenching. I had a hard time not crying - miscarriages and stillbirths are something my family has had to deal with personally several times. Your characters are well thought out and interesting. With a beginning like this, I can't wait to see where the story will take me!

I've got a few brief editor's notes, but I'll PM them to you. Brilliant work!

Posted 13 Years Ago



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Added on May 19, 2011
Last Updated on May 19, 2011


Author

Ashley Campbell
Ashley Campbell

TN



About
Currently I am twenty and am just starting my life as an adult, a writer, and a woman. Throughout my gallery you'll find dark poetry, fan fictions, and short stories, if you read and happen to review .. more..

Writing
Lost Lost

A Poem by Ashley Campbell