The bell struck eleven. On the wall,
above the pendulum's swing, the words 14 of the Serpent bled through the plaster, red as a wound.
Elowen's scream tore through the chamber.
"Ahhh...please..."
"Push, your grace," croaked the old woman, skirts heavy, cap shaking as she bent between Elowen's legs.
Seraphina pressed her sister's hand hard against her own. A black pin held her hair back, a lotus carved at its base, though loose strands clung damp to her cheek. "Stay with me. A little more."
The maid in black stood back, clutching the steaming basin tight to her apron, breath shallow under her veil.
Another scream. A wet burst. The midwife lifted the slippery weight into the lantern's glow. A thin cry filled the chamber.
"Let me hold her," Seraphina whispered, arms outstretched. The old woman laid the child in her hands.
For a moment Seraphina swayed, clutching the small body close. The baby's cry scratched her ear, her tiny fists quivering.
Her gown brushed her knees as she bent toward Elowen, whose dim eyes still held a faint, peaceful smile.
"Here," she said at last, placing the newborn against her sister's bare chest. Elowen gasped as the warmth touched skin to skin, tears brightening her lashes.
"Sera, wait..." Elowen's damp hair slipped across her face.
Seraphina leaned in, fingers deft, tying the strands back from her sister's eyes. "There."
The midwife's cracked voice cut the moment. "Water."
The maid staggered forward with the basin. The old woman plunged her hand in, the surface flaring as if it shimmered with light.
The clear water darkened, swirling like spilled blood. The midwife
wrung the cloth and whispered a brief prayer, her voice cracked like burnt parchment. When she finished tending Elowen, she bowed low, her trembling hands folded before her.
Elowen, pale and weary, managed a faint smile. "You've done well, Mother Venn. Tell me,what would you have as your gift?"
The midwife hesitated, eyes flicking toward the lantern light. "your grace, I would ask that my son be allowed to guard the east side of the Noble Ring."
Elowen's brows knit. "The east side? But isn't that where the Black Sphere stands behind the midnight wall?"
The old woman's voice rasped lower. "Aye. And yet no knight is more faithful than one who fears what he watches."
Lightning tore through the window, flooding the chamber with white fire. For a heartbeat, Elowen's face glimmered with unease. She turned her head slightly toward Seraphina, as if to speak, but the words never came.
Seraphina's gaze lingered on the infant, silver hair glinting in the lantern light. Her smile trembled. For an instant, her arms ached with phantom weight. She almost heard another voice, soft as a breath: Ma…
The storm outside broke again, thunder shaking the windowpanes.
A second maid entered, veil drawn low. She dropped to her knees, voice quick.
"My lady,a letter."
Seraphina's smile faded. She rose without a word, gown swaying as she crossed the chamber. The stair before her coiled upward, carved in black stone into the shapes of skeletons, their bony fingers clasped in a ring of eternal grip. The lantern light threw their hollow faces into stark relief, grinning and whispering with shadow.
She climbed, her steps echoing against the hollow ribs and clutching hands, the air cold as the grave.
Above, the curtains of her chamber fluttered like torn wings in the storm wind. Lightning split the sky, bleaching the walls bone-white. For a heartbeat, another shadow stood waiting by the window.