Fickle Fortune

Last week of Medos, 19th of 6152
– It is the worst time possible for the baby to be born, Medalain. – spoke old Gertrude, the midwife of the tribe of halflings, as she lit yet another candle inside the tent. – Nothing good comes from darkness. We are in Medos, child. At this time of the year, only demons and misfortune roam around.
– What can I do, Gertrude? The baby has left me with little to no choice-i-aaaaarghh – Medalain couldn't finish the sentence as another contraction happened.
– This concoction that I am making should help with the pain at least – said Gertrude giving her the thick leafy liquid to drink.
And so Medalain's labour went on through the moonless night of Medos. Gertrude was always at her side, aiding her with sips of the concoction and wipes of cold water to ease the heat of the candlelit interior of the tent. The hours seemed to drag as the pain increased, and the contractions came in with shorter intervals between them.
Conrad, the child's father, came and stayed for a long time by Medalain's side, but the moment the baby was crowning, Gertrude sent him away, saying that it was the moment for only them to be left there as tradition preached.
– Now you have to push, child. – said the wrinkled woman as she pressed Medalain's belly with one hand.
Some minutes later, a gasp – it can't be – Gertrude whispered – pale like a ghost.
The baby cried aloud.
– Let me see my baby – Medalain said faintly.
– I warn you, child. She is an odd one. – Gertrude answered while wrapping the baby in clean blankets and handing it over to the weak women that lay there waiting.
Medalain reached for her baby, wrapping the tiny figure in a tight hug and holding her close. The mother contemplated the small bundle as the baby got calmer.
– Nonsense, Gertrude! She is not pale! She is fair, like snow. Look at her white hair. It's like Empálica. I gave birth to a spark of light in the middle of the darkest night of the year. It's a good sign! She will be the most loved creature in all of Zandor!
Conrad came to meet his newborn daughter.
Just like the mother, Conrad didn't seem bothered by the paleness of their offspring. Maybe that would change with some exposure to the sun. The white hair didn't seem odd to them either, even though both parents were dark-haired. What mattered was that she was their firstborn. That baby was a miracle to them.
The tired mother and the newborn soon dozed off. Their breathing matched each other in perfect sync. Conrad left to celebrate and tell the good news to the rest of the tribe.
Some time passed, maybe hours, and even old Gertrude found a comfortable position on a rocking chair to watch over them and ended up sleeping.
But the calming tranquillity that hung as a blanket on that eventful night was interrupted by a scream. And the ringing of a bell.
– Demoooons! – a voice outside the tent shouted.
The screams multiplied.
The sounds of struggle and despair began to increase on the outside.
The baby was the first to wake up to this chaos. Her cry joined the cacophony that was happening all around them.
Conrad ran inside the tent. Sword in hand and terror in his eyes.
– Medalain, Gertrude! By the gods, you are safe. We are under attack by a horde of demons. Be prepared! – He said all that as he ran to his wife's side and handed her a dagger. – I will protect you, Love. But just in case.
Old Gertrude got up from the rocking chair with the little knife used to cut the umbilical cord ready. As a tribe of wanderers, they all knew how to defend themselves. Even Medalain, as tired and weak as she was, got up from her bed and stood guard.
They waited.
The sounds of mayhem invaded their senses along with the baby's cry.
Then, they heard the top of the tent tearing open by black claws.
The succession of events happened too fast. Quickly several little imps swarmed in the tent, attacking them. They fought bravely. Sword and daggers, slashing valiantly. Medalain was always on top of her baby as the reddish creatures slashed and bit her body.
Conrad fought with little to no mind for his safety. What mattered was the life of his loved ones. His sword impaled many of the creature's bodies and cut parts of their bodies. But to ever win he had was another slash to himself.
The fight seemed to last seconds and hours at the same time. Gertrude was already down. But eventually, the newly made parents were able to kill all threats to their precious child.
Conrad took in the scene. His breathing rushed and shallow at the same time.
– Is the baby well? Did those foul creatures get to her? – He asked.
– No, Love. She is safe. – Answered Medalain getting the baby and wrapping her into her arms.
– Good. That is good. – Said Conrad as he went to his knees and fell over.
The blood from the many wounds he got from the combat started to spill around him on the floor.
Medalain rushed over him, crying his name out loud.
– Conrad! Conrad! No, please, no, no! Don't let this happen! Conrad! – She kept crying.
She laid the baby next to Conrad's body and started trying to help her husband somehow. She was so desperate with the imminent death of her loved one that she didn't notice that, for the first time since the first scream uttered that night, the baby halfling had stopped crying.
Medalain lost track of how long she tried to reanimate Conrad. When she gave up, she looked at her baby, who now lay in a pool of blood, and saw a pair of two red eyes staring back at her.
Red as the blood spilt that night was the baby's eyes.
And for a split second, Medalain felt hate for that pale creature that came from her.
Medalain started to cry about what had happened with deep sorrow. And her baby stayed there, watching her silently.

***

Present day, Medos 18th 6161
The smell of sausages cooking outside filled the tent around me.
I smile and open my eyes. There's nothing better than waking up knowing you will eat soon.
The tent is empty. Someone is talking outside.
– Good morning, Antlers – I say to the stuffed elk next to my head.
I put my tiny feet on the ground, grab Antlers from his rest and go to the basin to wash my face. Mummy hated when we didn't look presentable.
I exit the tent and see mummy and old Gertrude talking around the fire.
– Morning, little one. Did you have a good night's rest? – Asked the elderly woman.
– Yes, Gertrude! I dreamt that Antlers and I were up in the mountains. – I said, pointing to the snowy peaks in the distance.
– Oh, my! Quite the explorers, the two of you! – chuckled Gertrude.
– Explorers that need to eat! – Chimed in mummy, serving me a plate of sausages and eggs.
– Thanks, mummy!
It was a pleasant morning. The birds around us chirped.
I finished eating and helped mummy with the dishes, and she said I could play for a while.
Antlers and I began to play knight and dragon, like in the old tales.
There was no worry to be had.
But then, the sky started to turn dark. Something was blocking the sun.
– Mummy, – I shouted – what is happening? Mummy?
No one answered me.
I turned around and looked back at the fire where they were sitting and chatting a second ago.
– Mummy, what's wrong? – I rushed to her side.
Her expression was empty. It was like she saw past me.
I start to shake her.
– Wake up, mummy! Wake up!
She falls to the ground. A scream comes out of her mouth.
– Mummy!
I go to her side.
I look at her face and see black claws coming out of her open mouth. They were followed by tiny reddish arms that started to rip at the side of her cheeks.
I scream in desperation. Tears ran down my face.
Blood is pouring from the open wound. A demon-like creature comes out of my mother's mouth, gleaming with blood.
The creature looks at me and jumps.
– Aaaaaaaah! – I scream, waking up crying in the middle of the night.
I stay with my eyes closed for a very long time. Not daring to open them and see the scene I had just dreamt of again.
"It was just a stupid dream." – I think. "They are already dead".
I usually have dreams every night. They are just not as awful as this one.
I open my eyes. It was complete darkness.
That's how the nights in the last week of Medos are.
– That's why I had a nightmare. I always have nightmares during this time of the year. – I whispered to myself.
I feel around, trying to calm myself.
I was not inside my old tent. That life was long gone, like everyone around me.
I tried to sleep again, but I simply couldn't.
Honestly, I think I didn't dare to fall prey to another nightmare.
I go outside.
The day is yet to start. Some people, the early birds, were already moving around. I could see some traders preparing their carts to go inside the city walls.
My tummy growled. I patted it.
– Yeah, there won't be sausages and eggs today.
I head toward the gates.
The Obsidian Citadel was an enormous place. Especially for someone as small as me. But even so, there weren't many places where you could get food that easily. The shrine to the Bright Dawn had proven to be the best place so far. Priest Iemera was a truly kind soul. And I had also met old Alastair there. But as a rule, people weren't very nice. Not towards orphans.
After living here for the past year, I found my way around things. To be small as I was sometimes was quite handy. Stealing became a habit. But not something that I had to do every day. Sometimes I would do it for fun or to win a bet that I had made with some of the other orphans. Eamund was particularly fond of challenging me. The fool.
The south gate to the Citadel was still closed. The guards patrolled outside.
I smiled when I saw that it was Gyzard's day to be part of the guard. He was a dwarf and the nicest guard around. Sometimes he would give me a piece of stale bread. But the best part was that he always had stories to tell and occasionally would let me play with his sword.
– On guard, soldier! – I commanded Gyzard.
– Oh! Look what we have here! A talking mouse! – Gyzard chuckled. – What made you get up so early, youngster?
– Got tired of sleeping. – I replied nonchalantly.
– I see, I see. – Answered him. – The gates will open in about two hours.
– Ugh. – I pretended to faint.
– Don't fret. – He said – I could use some company. It's a bit boring today.
– Only if you give me something to eat and a story to go along! – I said smirking.
Chuckling loudly, Gyzard opened his pouch and got a piece of cheese. He broke it in two and gave me half of it. – There you go. Mice food, for the little mouse.
– And the story?! – I asked with my mouth full.
– As you wish. – Gyzard said. Proceeding to tell me about the Runedar Kingdom before the calamity and the mighty of the dwarves of old.
The hours passed. The gate opened, and the movement of the carts started to flow.
I stayed with Gyzard until his guard ended, pretending I was on duty with him.
I will never know if he didn't see me stealing some of the food while I was pretending to inspect the carts with him or if my skills as a thief were improving.
Gyzard was very kind to me. I think he had a tough childhood as well. Most people still struggle after the calamity happened. Zandor was a very prosperous place once. But something tragic happened, wiping almost all civilization.
I parted ways with Gyzard on the way to the shrine of the Bright Dawn. I usually went there to get something to eat, and to meet the other kids. As a halfling, food was a priority to me. And not every day do I get lucky and had more than a bite to go for the entire day.
The shrine of the Bright Dawn was a nice place. Not very big. It was an open construction. Half the size of a tavern would be. But sheltered, in case it rained. The back walls had stained glass that depicted the sun and its light falling upon the people.
Priest Iemera was there with a group of ragged children of different races around her. Eamund, Calisto, Yula, and Istor were the orphans like me that I liked. We tended to help each other out, play together and steal stuff we would share later on. Ygrar, Throk and Bulgro were jerks. They tried to steal what Priest Iemera gave us and were generally bullies. They were lucky that Bulgro was an oversized half-orc that helped them beat us. I was not good in a fight.
– Hello, Priest Iemera. – I said, joining the group of little beggars.
– Ah, little Alva, you've joined us today! Good, good. – The priest said kindly. – How has your morning been?
– Improving – I said, noticing that she was handling a steaming broth for the hungry group of children.
I said hi to the other kids and sent a deadly stare toward Throk. Yesterday he made Bulgro and Ygrar cause me to trip over and I spilt all my food on the floor. Priest Iemera tried to give me more, but there is little left once you finished with all of us and the others that come begging. And the rule is clear. All must eat some.
So today I avoided being close to those idiots.
Priest Iemera did her part in distributing the food, and after we finished eating, she gave us the usual blessing. – May the bright light guide your day and show you a good path.
Today old Alastair didn't show up. He was a guy with hair white like mine and a rugged face. Not much of a talker. But always treated me with kindness.
People weren't very kind to me in most places. "Ghost", "freak", and "aberration" are things that I've been called to just because, as I was explained once, I was born with albinism. That meant that my white skin and hair were odd to people. But nothing scared them quite like my red eyes. Unfortunately, that didn't make Bulgro fear me. If anything, he seemed to hit me harder.
Once we got our bellies full, Eamund, Calisto, Yula, Istor and I did our best to avoid the brutes that sometimes made our lives harder and got off to our day. Sometimes we would play around at the airdocks, or we tried to earn some honest money by convincing the business owners to hire us for tasks fit for little kids like us.
I mean, not all of us were small like me. I was small because I was a halfling. But on the next day, I would turn nine. That's almost an adult. Eamund and Calisto are eleven. Eamund is a human bastard. His mother works at a whore house and wants nothing to do with him. From us, he is the only one with a relative still alive that we know. Calisto, Yula and Istor are tieflings. They are also nine.
We have fun together.
That afternoon the tavern The Flying Tankard that stayed on the way to the airdocks was busy, and we were able to get jobs in the kitchens cutting vegetables and serving some of the tables. I was too small to serve tables, so I got stuck washing dishes.
When our shift ended, Eamund and Calisto talked about some interesting targets they spotted drinking.
As usual, Eamund was quick to issue his challenges.
We sneaked to the tavern saloon and he showed us three people in the crowd.
– That one is yours, Alva. – Said Eamund, pointing to a well-dressed middle-aged man.
I nodded. I never backed down from a challenge. Unless it was stupid.
– You know how it goes. Stay watch and try your best. If possible, meet us later. That one leaving right now is mine. – Completed Eamund, waving goodbye.
Yula, that had also received a challenge, stayed with me for a little longer. But eventually, her target also left. Calisto and Istor went to mind their business.
My guy was a drunk or maybe had a bottomless stomach. He stayed there for hours.
It was some hours into the night when the guy was dragged out by some other folk to the streets.
The poor guy couldn't walk very straight.
I started following him and was astonished at how stupid that guy was. Something good must have happened to him to celebrate like that, or maybe he just had a bad day. Why else would you walk so carelessly with a pouch that looked to still be filled with coins, even after hours of drinking?
I had to be quick. Even though he was drunk, he might be going to a house where others would be watching. My window of opportunity was now.
I ran a few meters ahead of him. I got ready and dashed towards his legs. I tackled him while I screamed – Mummy, wait for me! I don't like the dark!
The guy was drunk enough, that even someone small like me made him lose his balance and fall. I also went to the floor, but I was quick to act.
– Oh, I am sorry, sir! – I said apologetically. And helped him to get up.
In my hands, I had my little dagger out, and swiftly cut the knot that tied his pouch to his belt.
– Get off me, stupid mutt! – He said angrily.
– Of course, sir! I apologise. – I said as I bolted with the prize in hand.
I didn't stop running until I was safe outside the Citadel gates.
Since we were in the last week of Medos, finding cover was easy. Everywhere there were shadows to hide. I went from shadow to shadow until I got to the entrance of the little burrow I had found that now served me as home.
Not very far away, there was a little house with a lantern hanging on its porch. I hurried there and secretively peeked inside the pouch. The silvery surface reflected the light above. I was shocked. It was a lot of money. I quickly closed the pouch and looked around. I think no one saw me.
I rushed back to the little burrow and hugged the precious content.
The day had improved as it happened.
I smiled.
– I guess I will have a happy birthday tomorrow! I will eat well forever.
I stayed there daydreaming of everything I could buy with all that money and soon I dozed off into a heavy sleep.
That night I didn't have a nightmare. Instead, I dreamt of old Alastair holding a cat with a horn and we walked to a big boulder where a necklace was placed on top. When I tried to get the necklace, a shadow appeared above me and I saw a golden dragon flying in the sky.
Knowing that I was now the richest of the orphans must have protected me from bad dreams.
Unfortunately, having money didn't make me wake up the following day to the smell of sausages and eggs.