Again screaming could be heard from inside the Empress's chambers. This time, it was different. The Empress was in labor. Nine months and two days after her husband's passing, the Empress woke with a start. She called her maid and spoke only two words through gritted teeth, "It's time."
As the morning wore on, many midwives and physicians arrived at the palace to attend the Royal birth. Each had their own advice about what Zephyra should and should not do.
"She should walk around to let the baby come more naturally," one said.
"Your Highness, take these herbs for the pain," another offered.
"The Empress needs to rest," a third argued. "The hard work will begin soon."
They began to bicker, each asserting that their way was best. The room spiraled into chaos as the arguing grew fiercer.
"ENOUGH!" A voice rose over the noise. Instantly, there was silence as a woman in white robes approached the Empress's large bed. She was clean and pale, her skin seeming somehow translucent. But that was nothing compared to her eyes. Her irises, instead of being brown or blue, were colorless. More than that—they seemed to have a life of their own. A strange light swirled and shone between the black ring around the iris and the pupil, as if a storm were constantly brewing. It was mesmerizing. Even the Empress fell still between birth pains to take note of this strange character.
"All of you, OUT," the woman in white ordered, "except you two. I'll use you as my attendants."
One of the physicians puffed out his chest. "What gives you the right to…"
"Leave!" The woman's voice seemed to echo in everyone's mind. In a calmer tone she added. "I'm the only midwife she needs." All the attendants filed out in turn leaving the strange midwife and her two attendants to care for the Empress. Zephyra was both concerned by the woman's commanding presence and relieved that the circus had left her bedchamber. She opened her mouth to speak, but was overtaken by the urge to push. She released a guttural grunt instead.
"Very good, Your Majesty. It will not be long now." The midwife patted the Empress gently. Zephyra grunted again, her breathing labored and difficult. Shaking violently for several seconds, the Empress finally relaxed and lay still. The midwife moved to her appointed position and smiled confidently. Minutes passed and periods of tension and release came in regular intervals. "It's time to push, dear one. Whenever you are ready."
Zephyra followed the midwife's instruction and after what seemed like an eternity, a small cry could be heard. The Empress had never felt such relief, but then the midwife's words confused her. "You aren't done," the woman told her.
"What do you mean?!" Zephyra demanded.
"You are only halfway there. There is a second child." The woman in white was serious, and as the pain redoubled, Zephyra again went to work. Only moments later, a second small cry entered the air. Working to sit up, the Empress could see two bundles being held in the midwife's arms. The new mother wondered how the midwife could have caught both children so easily, but kept her thoughts to herself. The cords cut, the midwife handed one child to each of her assistants. "Good work, Your Majesty. They are very healthy."
"What did I have?" Zephyra asked, exhausted.
"This one is a boy!" one assistant said as she cooed at the little one.
"This one is a girl!" the other replied, pulling the warm blanket around a tiny escaping hand.
Processing the information, Zephyra nodded. "Who was born first?"
The midwife did not seem to hear her. "I will get the physicians and the wet nurses." She glided out of the room without another word.
"Who was born first?" Zephyra directed the question to the nearest assistant. The assistant turned white as a sheet.
"I don't know, Your Majesty. The midwife was blocking my view."
The Empress looked at the other assistant, who lowered her head. "My deepest apologies. I could not see either, Empress."
The physicians and wet nurses burst into the room and bowed deeply. "My sincerest congratulations, Your Majesty!" the head doctor said.
Zephyra looked at him angrily. "Get the midwife back in here. I need to know who was born first."
"Yes, right away," the doctor bowed again. He sent a servant in search of the midwife. The servant arrived a short while later, empty-handed.
"Well?" the Empress glared at him, certain she would not like what she was about to hear.
"The midwife is nowhere to be found," the servant pressed his face to the floor. He knew there would be a punishment for his failure.
"What do you mean?!" Zephyra's face turned red. She sat up in the bed. The head physician shook his head and tried to encourage her to lay down.
"You have not recovered, Empress. Please lay back down or you will hurt yourself," he scolded gently.
"Never mind about me." The Empress would not be calmed. "Where is the midwife?!"
The servant shook in fear. "She seems to have...vanished. No one saw her leave your chambers and no one matching her description has entered or exited the castle today. It's as if she just appeared and then disappeared."
"What are you saying?" Zephyra asked with steel in her voice.
The servant, knowing his fate was already sealed, decided to make one final stand. He lifted his head bravely and looked the Empress in the eye. "I'm saying Your Majesty, that your midwife was a Fate..."
The air was suddenly sucked from the room as everyone felt the weight of what he said. Fates were mystery and myth. No one but the occasional street-corner crier had ever claimed to have seen one. Zephyra took several deep breaths as her face turned so red it was tinged with purple.
When she spoke, her voice was low slowly growing in intensity. "You would mock your Empress in this way? With fairy tales and fables? Fates be cursed! I will find that midwife and she will tell me the order of my children's birth. I--" Zephyra's eyes rolled back in her head, and she shook uncontrollably. Then without warning, she fell on the bed, still as a stone. The head physician grabbed her hand to check her heart beat.
"She's alive," he announced. Everyone released the breath they had been holding. As if on cue, the Empress took a shuddering breath herself. The doctor looked around the room. "We shall never speak of this again." He made a strange circular motion in the air. "Please forgive us," the physician said into the air. "Honor to the Fates."
Those present in the room mimicked his circular action and words. "Honor to the Fates," they chanted.
Thank you for reading. I would love your comments!
I have many ideas going forward, but always welcome new ones too :)