A Ballad of Sacrifice

Caedes meticulously arranged his workspace, each tool and ingredient placed with exacting precision. The hollow needle-like stonefish spine he’d procured from Azrael lay in a neat row on the polished stone table, their tips gleaming ominously in the dim light of his den. He examined each one closely, marveling at them.

His thoughts were interrupted by a distant sound — a faint commotion at the entrance of his den. Caedes tensed, his senses heightened to the anomaly. He sniffed the air, and his nostrils flared at the unmistakable scent of blood. Not something foreign, but it begged the question of who was bleeding at his door. His motions stilled and his brows furrowed as he heard a weak, broken voice calling his name.

‘Caed-..’ It was Aurelia. Oh no. It was Aurelia. Was her due date so close?

He moved swiftly to the entrance, his mind racing. Aurelia was there, staggering and in obvious distress. Her usual defiance was replaced by a painful, laborious expression. A hopeless one. A desperate one. Blood soaked her fur, and her face was a mask of agony. She was in active labor, and from the looks of it, she was on the brink of collapse. Or death.

”Aurelia!” Caedes’ low voice was a harsh exclamation, rushing to her side. He immediately offered her his shoulder, supporting her weight so that she would not buckle to the floor. Her eyes, usually so full of life and sardonic thoughts, were glazed with pain and exhaustion. “Hold on,” Caedes urged, his tone firm but gentle. He guided her to the bed in the corner of his den, laying her down with care. The sight of her suffering stirred something deep within him — a blend of concern, and an unfamiliar desperation. But he had work to do, so he kept his head on straight.

He worked quickly, his hands moving with practiced efficiency. He gathered the necessary supplies: clean cloths, water, and a selection of herbs known for their analgesic properties. He prepared a tincture from the herbs, carefully measuring and mixing them. Holding the vial to her lips, he coaxed her to drink with a nod of his skull. The potion would help dull the pain and give her strength.

And as he knelt beside her, he noticed the extent of her distress in full. The blood loss was severe, and her body was wracked with violent contractions. He pressed a damp cloth to her forehead, his touch gentle. “Focus on your breathing. Can you tell me how long ago your labor started?” He instructed, his voice calm and steady. He didn’t even know if she could talk with the state she was in.