Chapter Text
He was so beautiful.
Yeon'a smiled down at the baby in her arms, tears silently dripping down her face. Her hand softly stroked against the fuzzy blond hair that haloed about his head; she guessed that it would be an unruly mess when he got older, just like his father’s own blond mop.
Haris was sitting beside her, his arm about her shoulders as she wept. His own face was streaked with tears, gazing down at their son. Their daughter was curled in on her other side, Yu’mi picking at the blankets and glancing between her little brother and her parents, brow furrowed as the three year old tried to understand why the adults looked so sad.
The midwife was busying herself on the other side of the room, prepping the basket and trying to give them as much time as she could to say their goodbyes.
It was for the best. Yeon’a knew it was for the best. Their son needed to be in a place where he could learn to use his magic and how to protect the world. It was supposed to be an honor for the Great Eagle to appear, alighting on the roof of the parents’ home as a beacon of hope.
Yeon’a couldn’t help but hate it.
They never planned for this little one, but when they’d found out and estimated the days, it seemed like they would be lucky; the birth was supposed to come well after the summer solstice by at least a month. And with Haris’ shop finally getting off the ground, and her recent promotion as a guard of Brisk giving them better housing and compensation, it looked like their life was making a turn for the better and they could provide for their growing family. Yu’mi had been especially excited that she was getting a younger sibling, happily declaring to Haris’ customers that she was going to be the best big sister.
The Great Eagle was supposed to arrive early in the pregnancy, usually showing up around or before the time the parent’s learned themselves of the baby…all the stories they’d been told had insisted that this was the truth. It was the Great Eagle’s way of giving the families time to prepare before they had to give up the child.
They’d had less than a month to come to terms with their loss, that this beautiful child would not be able to stay. Many times during the two weeks leading up to this birth, Yeon’a wished she’d had her spear or sword in hand when the Great Eagle had shown up. Maybe she wouldn’t have been able to hurt it or drive it away, but even if it cost her job as a guard of Brisk, it at least would’ve made her feel better to have been able to fight for her right to her child.
Yeon’a remembered drawing the attention of her neighbors when she shouted and screamed at the large red and purple eagle that had landed in their rooftop garden, holding one hand protectively over her large stomach. It hadn’t flinched away while she raged at it, only dipping its head and body as if to apologize to her. At that, she’d tried throwing one of the plants at it, only for Haris to intervene and take the heavy pot out of her hands. He’d gently herded her inside, giving the Eagle a glare of his own.
So many acquaintances came calling to give their condolences, but she couldn’t bear to see them…not wanting to entertain the idea that this beloved child would be taken away.
Yeon’a gently lifted the baby up, giving him a gentle kiss on his head. She turned and gently handed him to Haris, carefully scooping Yu’mi up into her lap. Her husband softly cooed to the squirming baby as he cradled him, wiping at his face with one hand.
“Ma, Da…don’t cry.”
Yeon’a gave Yu’mi a wavering smile, dropping a kiss onto the girl’s dark brown hair. The toddler wrinkled her nose, and reached over to gently pat the baby. His little face wrinkled at the sensation, eyes slitting open and a small yawn tipping his head back. Yu’mi giggled at him, continuing to pat him gently.
“Yu’mi…you have to say goodbye to your brother now…”
The girl’s hazel eyes narrowed, head tilting to the side as she processed what her mother said.
“He’s going away now?”
“Y-yes…he’s…he has to leave now.”
“Goin’ to the…Moon?”
“Mooncradle, yes.”
They’d had careful discussions with their little girl, trying to explain that the baby would leave after the birth. That the sibling she was so excited for would not be here, but that they would be keeping her safe when they got older. She had seemed to understand, but she was so young…
“…When will he come back?”
Yeon’a shook her head and pulled Yu’mi in tight to her, burying her head in the soft, dark brown hair as the tears flowed anew. She could feel Haris shift, gently petting a hand along the toddler’s face.
“He…he won’t be coming back, darling,” Haris’ voice cracked as he whispered to Yu’mi. The small body stiffened in her arms, and the resulting whine broke Yeon’a’s heart further.
“No. He’s yours. He’s mine! My brother!”
“Yu’mi. Stop.”
“No! No!”
Yeon’a shivered as she held her flailing daughter, trying desperately to soothe the crying child. The baby was beginning to whine himself, face scrunching at the noise. Haris gently rocked him, softly shushing the tiny boy. A shadow briefly darkened the light leaking through the shut window curtains, and a soft thump as something heavy landed outside.
“I’m so sorry, but it’s time.”
The midwife was next to them, gently setting the blanket lined basket onto the bed. Yu’mi’s wails grew as she watched her father gently kiss the baby before setting him into the basket.
“What is his name?”
Haris took Yu’mi from her, the little girl devolving to whimpering as she curled into her father’s strong arms. Yeon’a leaned down to kiss the baby one last time, and stroked his face as he whimpered.
“Zale. His name is Zale.”
It was Haris’ grandfather’s name; both Yeon’a and Haris wanting to honor the man that had been their witness to their marriage, and who had helped them leave their hidebound village and disproving families and make their way to Brisk. Perhaps the strength of the elder Zale’s convictions would pass to his great-grandson, along with the blessing of the sea the man had always insisted came with his name.
The midwife nodded and wrote the name down on a small roll of paper, tucking it carefully in the blanket Zale was wrapped in. Yeon’a turned away with a sob, wrapping her arms about her husband and daughter, shaking growing as Haris carefully wrapped his arm around her. The midwife smiled sadly as she gently lifted the basket and bowed to the grieving family.
“May Solen’s light guide you.”
It felt like a mockery of their grief when the bright, cheerful light of the sunny day streamed in as the midwife slipped out to the rooftop garden. The thunder of wings and the cry of the Great Eagle leaving with their precious son only seemed to enhance it more.
“…may Solen’s light guide you, Zale.”