Grief's Veil: The Lament of a Newborn

'The warmth enveloped me in a cocoon of safety, and the blinding brightness left me at a loss for words. I felt weightless, as if I were drifting through the air, until my gaze settled upon an ethereal tunnel. The idea of a light at the end of the tunnel had always seemed like a cliché, but now it felt like a tangible possibility.'

'Amidst the warmth and safety, a thought crept into my mind. Would I wake up from this paradise only to join the ranks of those who claimed to have 'seen the light'? The irony of the situation was not lost on me. Even if I survived, the thought of being disfigured and rendered unable to carry on filled me with a sense of despair. The idea of escaping my current misery seemed impossible, and I was left with an overwhelming sense of helplessness.'

'As I basked in the serenity of the moment, I couldn't help but wonder about the absence of the proverbial choir of angels. Weren't they supposed to be here, rejoicing at my arrival and congratulating me for enduring the trials and tribulations of life? I used to be a believer, but now my faith was wavering. However, the scene in front of me was uncannily similar to descriptions of heaven I had heard before. The only thing missing was the angelic hymn, and I waited with bated breath for its arrival.'

Mark's mind raced with doubt and uncertainty. What if this wasn't heaven after all? What if he had been mistaken? These thoughts were cut short as he was abruptly pulled out of the tunnel, leaving him with more questions than answers.

As Mark emerged from the tunnel, his vision blurred and everything around him became a jumbled mess of sounds and colours.

When he tried to speak, all that escaped his lips was a cry that seemed to belong to a newborn.

He was disoriented and confused, struggling to make sense of the situation he had found himself in.

The muffled voices became clearer and discernible.

"Congratulations, your grace and duchess. He's a healthy boy," triumphantly declared the midwife.

As the words echoed through the room, the newborn's mind drifted off.

Suddenly, he jolted back to reality and it hit him, 'Wait, am I a baby now? Was I just born? So, the bright light at the end of the tunnel is the light coming through into this world?'

'Damn... let's not think about that,' Mark thought to himself as his mind raced with confusion and wonder.

As he took a moment to assess his situation, he realized that he could understand the language being spoken around him.

That was certainly a reassuring sign.

Slowly, Mark opened his eyes and was immediately bombarded with a kaleidoscope of colors and figures.

The first figure he saw was the midwife, who appeared wise and old, with long gray hair cascading down her back and brown eyes that radiated a hint of wisdom that only came with age.

Mark's mind was in a whirlwind of confusion as he looked around the opulent room.

He could hardly believe that this was where he had woken up.

The elderly woman who had been fussing over him had referred to the occupants of the room as "your grace" and "Duchess".

Mark had only heard such titles before in movies and books, he knew they were reserved for someone of great nobility.

As Mark took in his surroundings, he realized that he was no longer in the hospital.

In fact, the room was so vast and lavish that it could only befit a royalty.

He couldn't help but wonder if he had somehow been transported to a different world.

'How strange,' he thought to himself. 'But then again, stranger things have happened.

As Mark's eyes scanned the room, they finally landed on the woman who had given birth to him.

He was struck by her beauty - she had long, flowing silver hair that cascaded down her back in soft waves.

Her eyes were a deep gold, shining with a brilliance that was almost blinding. Mark couldn't help but feel a sense of awe wash over him as he gazed upon her.

He couldn't believe that this was his mother - she was like something out of a fairy tale. Mark couldn't help but wonder what kind of life she led, and what kind of world he had been born into.

It was all so mysterious and intriguing.

He gazed up at his mother's delicate oval face with its perfect features.

Even in the midst of the intense pain of childbirth, she appeared almost ethereal, like a phantom from another world.

Her pale skin only enhanced her beauty and added to the sense of wonder and awe Mark felt as he looked into her eyes.

In that moment, he knew that he was loved and protected, and that his mother would always be there for him.

Mark was overcome by a sense of comfort and security, as if he was enveloped in a warm embrace from a loving mother. It was a feeling that defied description - both natural and yet somehow otherworldly. As he basked in this peaceful state, he couldn't help but wonder if this was what he had been yearning for all along: the nurturing warmth of a mother's love.

He wanted nothing more than to prolong this moment of pure contentment, to savor its cozy embrace for as long as possible.

Mark's mother, Naamah, spoke softly through a veil of tears, looking down at her precious newborn son.

"Elyon, my little angel," she whispered, her golden eyes glowing with a deep sense of love and adoration.

The very sound of her voice and the look in her eyes filled Mark with a fleeting sense of warmth and comfort.

As he watched his wife with their newborn, Mark's father embraced Naamah tightly, trying to offer some solace in this emotional moment.

"That's such a wonderful name, Naamah," he said, his voice filled with tenderness and pride.

In that moment, surrounded by the love of his family, Mark felt a sense of peace that he knew he would cherish forever.

'Elyon, huh? That's...unusual,' Mark thought to himself, looking up at the man in front of him. Was this man really his father? He studied him closely, taking in his noble and charismatic appearance, with thick brown hair and a neatly-trimmed goatee of the same rich hue. His eyes, a radiant sapphire blue, seemed to exude both authority and warmth as he gazed at his wife and son with deep affection.

Lost in thought, Mark's father spoke up. "Elyon, huh? That's...unusual," he said, his voice trailing off.

The woman turned to look at him, a gentle smile playing across her lips.

"I thought it was fitting," she said, her voice calm and soothing. "It means 'most high'. He is our little angel sent from above, after all."

Mark, as a newborn, couldn't express his thoughts in words, but as he looked at his parents, he felt a sense of joy and contentment.

He marveled at their beauty, admiring his mother's stunning looks and his father's regal appearance.

'I must be one handsome fellow,' he thought to himself, admiring the features of his parents.

'My mother looks like a masterpiece, an angel, even. She's exactly what I would imagine an angel to look like. And my father, he's so noble and charismatic. I definitely have some great genes.'

Mark was filled with happiness at the thought of resembling his parents and he knew that with such a sweet start in life, he could only imagine the amazing things that lay ahead for him.

"Noah," Naamah whispered, capturing his full and unconditional attention.

Noah anxiously eyed her from head to toe, scanning for any mishaps. "What is it, my dear?" he asked.

With a tired smile on her face, Naamah uttered the words that would change Noah's life forever. "Please take care of our child," she said.

As she spoke, all remnants of life faded from her face, and tears veiled her eyes, shimmering like crystals filled with her remaining life force. With one final drop, a tear fell gently on Mark's face, as if passing on Naamah's love and light to their son.

Mark's heart ached with the weight of the world's rejection, as if fate had dealt him another cruel hand.

"What's wrong, my dear Naamah?" Noah asked, his voice laced with worry and fear. "Please answer me, don't do this to me," he pleaded, dropping to his knees in despair. Noah's heart shattered as he witnessed the life fade from Naamah's eyes, leaving him with nothing but the memory of her love. "Please don't leave me, Naamah," he whispered, holding her hand tightly, as if he could somehow keep her with him.

Overcome with grief, Noah buried his face in the bed sheets, shaking uncontrollably.

He lifted his head, his voice muffled by tears and despair as he asked the midwife, "What went wrong, Asseline?" She hesitated, knowing the weight of her words, before finally speaking.

"It's related to the child, your grace," she started before her voice faltered.

Noah's heart sank, as he braced himself for the worst. "He....he was not supposed to make it," she finally said, her voice heavy with sorrow.

Noah's world collapsed around him as he struggled to process the devastating news.

Noah's voice trembled with disbelief as he asked, "He what, Asseline?" Though he already knew what had happened, he needed confirmation.

The midwife's voice was heavy with sorrow as she spoke, "Your grace, the child...no, Elyon was not supposed to make it. I don't know how Duchess Naamah did it, but their situation seemed to have reversed. From her last words, it seemed like she knew what was to come."

Noah's world shattered around him once again as he tried to comprehend the gravity of the situation.

The loss of his beloved wife left him feeling completely helpless and alone.

After some time, Noah rose to his feet and with a heavy heart, instructed Asseline to tend to the child.

Elyon watched as Noah turned his back, his expression obscured from view, but his tone revealing the depth of his grief.

Slowly, Noah's form grew smaller and smaller in Elyon's view as Asselin and the ladies-in-waiting carried him out of the room. Noah remained there, looking out into space, contemplating the sorrow that had befallen their household.

As Elyon gazed upon the new light of beginning, it was abruptly engulfed by an endless darkness, leaving him feeling lost and alone. The question, 'Why?' echoed through his mind, but remained unanswered, leaving him to ponder in the river of sadness

With heavy hearts, Elyon, Asselin, and the ladies-in-waiting silently departed from the room, leaving Noah to grieve in solitude after the loss of his beloved.

They knew the importance of allowing Noah the space and time he needed to come to terms with his sorrow, and so they left him to mourn in peace."

On Elyon's first day as a baby, peace seemed to be far from his grasp.

Despite having no responsibilities and being well-cared for, he found himself unable to shake the thoughts of Naamah from his mind. Her absence left a void in his heart.

Elyon spent his day lost in thought, yearning for the warmth of Naamah's embrace.

The warmth and sense of safety that Naamah brought to Elyon's life was truly priceless. Even though their time together was brief, he could never forget the loving gaze and embrace that held him with unconditional motherly love and affection.

It was exactly what he had yearned for in his past life and he couldn't help but long for the comfort of her presence once again.

On that sorrowful day, the entire dukedom was draped in mourning as they grieved the loss of their beloved duchess.