Darkness had pervaded her conciousness as sleep kept hold of her. Secluded and alone in the darkest part of the forest, her eyes were closed against stray fingers of moonlight that filtered through the trees. She almost appeared peaceful and unthreatening as her red aura blanketed her protectively. Nestled in a bed of grass the child within her writhed restlessly, moving her stomach visibly. Her midsection clenched and contorted angrily, contracting with an uncanny viciousness. Lost within her dreamscape, flashes of pain invaded her serenity. Jolted awake the queen jumped to her feet - momentary confusion plain upon her features. Her sides heaved with every breath as her emerald gaze pulled the world surrounding her into focus. The leaves above remained remaniscent of the fall despite the cloak of midnight. Even so, spring was heavy upon the breeze - and her child demanded to be acknowledged.
Nothing more than a byproduct of her political ambition, his continued existence relied upon his ability to embrace the darkness of their kingdom. She was eager to lay her eyes upon the creature that had resided within her for so long. Another contraction tightened her belly and she clenched her teeth against the pain. The child pressed urgently upon her, his arrival imminent. The urge to push was nearly overwhelming and she submitted to the instinctual tide of motherhood. Time seemed to halt as she lost herself to the breathless wonder of agony. Like the changing of the seasons she felt her body shift and pull until, after one final heave, it was all over. Partnered by the sudden relief and soft thud of his freshly born body she trembled from the aftershocks of her exertion. It was over. Weakened by the events that had transpired she turned to gaze upon the lump that was the new prince of darkness.
Almost seeming lifeless, he lay helplessly in a crumpled heap. His immediate fragility struck the first time mother and revulsion accosted her. She had seen many a newborn, but the urge to see them neatly dispatched had never been as strong as it was in that moment. Abstaining, she dutifully set herself to clearing his nostrils and body of the sticky afterbirth.
He was a pathetically tiny creature, his bones jagged beneath thin skin. Pliable beneath the rough touch of her cleaning she would have believed him dead hahard it not been for the warmth of his flesh. Slowly she began to notice a start to his movement and he squirmed away from her. She watched with detached curiosity as his darkened lids fluttered open to reveal a pair of striking red and onyx eyes. They peered up at her with an indignant that mirrored her own. Amused, a chuckle fell past her hard pressed lips and his head lifted to study her further. Stepping away, Astarael noted him as a surviving piece belonging to the recently deceased Mortem. She wondered if he would be proud of his progeny.
@[Abnormal]