1 1 Larkin

_Larkin_

It wasn't a scene out of an extravagant story. This was a day like any other: partially cloudy skies, a light breeze, and people rustling about in the streets. It was a regular spring day, and it was an early one. The village of Comsworth was bustling with busy bodies, the people hurrying on their way to start the farming season. It was a joy to start so early- if the moderately-sized settlement was well off this season, they would be more than set for the winter that followed.

Comsworth wasn't anything special, it was just a small village in the middle-west of the kingdom of Ashmore. A simple mountain town with simple people. It had enough to survive but not enough to grow like many villages and towns under the Ashmore's rule. They had no blacksmiths, no midwives or medicine practitioners. It was a village of farmers, hunters, and fishermen from the great nearby river.

Birds chirped in the trees, singing their songs as people walked on. One might have called the scene peaceful. Gentle rustling of leaves and the crunches in the dirt under poor beaten boots and a few bare feet. There was plenty of talking and chatting, a few drunken hollers from the one brothel in town, and the sound of a few laughing children as they played tag in the streets.

As you traveled down one of the few streets, you would first find said brothel at the beginning of town, followed by an inn right across the street. Next was the wealthiest family of the village. The chief commander, and also a former farmer's family. As you kept traveling there was a mix of small shops and houses. As you traveled farther through the winds of the streets the houses soon began to grow further apart, some big and more than half of them small- possibly one or two rooms large. There was one communal privy; an outhouse that no one bothered to use for fear of disease.

Soon you would reach the edge of the village, houses here were spread farther apart, and more people had animals here- but not many. A few goats, some sheep, one person had two pigs. There were horses too- much more than there were the few farm animals. If you traveled over the edge and wandered the forest for a few paces, you would soon find a little hut. One bedroom and housed to three- one more on the way.

A wretched scream caused the birds to cease their singing and freeze, their tiny beady eyes surveying the scene. The next moment was one of drastic silence, the area only being barely far enough away from the busy village for no one to hear and take notice. All of a sudden, another scream. A wail more like; it came straight from the gut, a belt of pain. More cries and wails followed. The birds fled to the skies, making the tree's rustle on their way upward. Gone were the song birds as they fled the area. A couple eyes from the village watched the birds flee to the sky- but they flew far, scattering in a way that most wouldn't notice was nearly unnatural.

One of the eyes who saw, blinked and starred in the direction these birds had fled. A dusty brown-haired man stood holding his basket of freshly just purchased produce as he listened in closely through the ruckus of people, listening on what he feared might be happening. His eyes flicked around the streets quickly. He needed to keep them safe- all of them. It was important. His eyes caught another staring into the direction of the birds. As if sensing his gaze, a woman looked back at him and an instant understanding crossed him. This robed woman quickly spun on her heels and ran the opposite direction from where the birds had been seen coming from.

The man swallowed hard, his heart beating out of his chest in this very few amount of seconds that had passed. With his free hand he placed over the dagger on his belt, almost instinctively. It would be in his and his families best interest to go after her, to stop her and he took the step to follow her but froze when he heard it. A wail. His face paled as he heard her voice ring out through the valley. This now had a few heads turning. The dusty haired man dropped his basket of produce and ran as fast as his body would allow. His feet were hardly ready and he felt the small pings of pain as they slapped against the rocks and dirt through his thin shoes. He did not mind this at all as he rushed with as much speed as his old body would allow.

He passed houses upon houses, heading to the only one that mattered. The only house that had screaming coming from it. Time felt both rushed and slowed down, but eventually the man clamored through the doorway, breathing hard and frantically looking around the room till his eyes landed on the scene before him. His love, his life, she lay on one of two small and cheap beds. He rushed to her side, next to an older woman. His own mother.

"It is time my dear, you must push!" The older woman encouraged the black haired beauty of a woman. She cried out, her face contorting in pain and sweat also dripping down her brows.

"Tom!" she cried out, reaching for her lover. "Thomun it hurts so much!" She whined, breathing hard.

"Push, my love!" He responded, taking her hand in both of his. Her skin was much darker than his. It was clear she was foreign. Most people here were pale, but she was of darker skin and her eyes were more almond shaped than the people of this region. She was from far, far east but now she was west and more north than most of her people had ever made it.

"I'm trying!" She wailed, screaming in pain, quick breaths and whimpers following.

Thomun had never heard her cry and scream like this. Milaya had always been a tough girl- hell he met her when she was walking on a broken leg. This woman was a force to be reckoned with and for her to be so pained over this was a harrowing sight.

"Something is wrong," the old woman called, lifting her head from looking at what was going on. "The baby is showing but it is not making any progress. I have seen many births and the babe will die if we do not get it to move now." She warned. "Milaya, my dear you will have to push harder!" the grey haired woman hollered over the screams. More wales followed.

"She is being too loud," Thomun warned, nervously looking to the door. "There was a lady in town- she knows. Mother- she knows."

"Aye, we need to hurry before they get here- Milaya my dear, you can do this! You did not cross the Severed sea and make a treacherous journey northwest only to end it all here. You need to be here for this babe!" The woman warned. "Push!" She yelled now.

Milaya pushed and pushed, tears and sweat streaming down her face. She could hardly hear her own screams as she felt herself rip open from the force. She felt a wetness follow and for a moment she wondered if she had wet herself but the dizziness that followed told her all she needed to know. An eerie calm reassurance washed over her. "Thomun," She croaked out, trying to warn him.

"You're doing so well, my love." He said kissing her hand.

She wailed and screamed again, pushing like she knew she had to do, despite how it tortured her. "T-tom, " She tried again, her voice hoarse and scratchy.

"One more push! Come on, dear!" Thomun's mother hollered. With another great painful push, a new cry entered the room. A babe's cry. The woman laughed in delight and immediately took the babe. She cut the umbilical cord and wiped down the babe with a cloth. She smiled brightly. "A boy!" She said with glee. Quickly she handed the baby to its mother.

A weak smile crossed Milaya's features. Fragile, like it would fade at any moment, but boy did her eyes sparkle. She took her babe in weak arms, feeling the faintest she had in her entire life. "A boy," She said wistfully. 

"What shall we call him?" Thomun urged, stroking his lovers hair back from her face.

Her eyes stared lovingly at the very thing that was to doom her. "He looks like you Thomun."

"No no, he looks more like you- he has your nose, " he urged.

"He has your grey eyes," She offered.

"What is his name?"

She gazed at the babe for a moment, finding it hard to speak or think. "Nyka. Nyka Larkin. Firstborn son of Thomun Larkin and M... Milaya... mm... mil...." she struggled to speak now, struggled to keep her focus. The babe that began to slip from her arms was quickly scooped up by Thomun.

"She is bleeding out," the woman said in a worried tone, reaching to clean the blood.

Thomun felt the blood drain from his- well his everything. "Can you do anything?"

"I- I cannot. I have not seen anyone ever stop this kind of bloody birth," She said solemnly.

"You have to do something, mother!" He pleaded with her. "I love her, she can't die!"

"Thomun I cannot do anything!"

"Please!" He cried, falling to his knees. "I will do anything, I will give my life for hers!" he said as tears fell from his face and into his short, well maintained facial hair.

"I know you love her, dear. I know she loves you just as much. I have never seen you look at anyone like you look at her. I know you would hold up the sky for a thousand years if it meant that she could live. But she is already gone, I am no witch or miracle worker. I am not even a proper midwife- I am a seamstress! If there was anything in this godforsaken world I would do it is give my life so that the two of you can be happy but I cannot and it kills me inside that I cannot give you what you want," The old woman said with tears of her own now. The two embraced on their knees, hugging the babe in-between them.

There was no time for grieving. "W- we have to leave." Thomun announced. He couldn't hardly look at his lover laying bloodied and sweaty on the bed. She had breathed her final breath with that last stutter. "Are you sure that woman you saw was with them?"

"I recognized the robe. She was one of them. If we don't leave now, we will have more death to deal with." He handed the babe off to his mother. He faced it's own mother now and knelt to kiss her first on the forehead and then on her lips. "Milaya... I have loved you from the first moment we spoke and from that time on my meaningless life had purpose. I have never loved anything as much as you and I never will love anything more than you and the son we had together. I will not see him die too. I..." He sniffed and wiped at his red face. "I love you, now and always.: He whispered before standing.

"Mother,"

"Y-yes?"

"Walk outside, I will gather our things. I can't leave her behind."

She nodded and took the babe outside. Thomun did as he said and stuffed their most important things into a sack. then he grabbed the flint and steel from the table and made his way outside.

When the three of them left in a swift hurry, a group of five robed individuals stood staring at a burning hut- or what was left of one. One of the, blatantly walked into the hot coals unfazed by the heat, the man investigated the scene for a moment before looking up at the other four. "Just one. The rest are still alive."