Birth

On a dark, winter night, a hero is born under the pressure of the renown Alunyth Guards.

The door of an old cabin bursts open with a clatter that could wake the dead, but the wind was worse as it blew in with howling might and carrying sheets of white powder freshly fallen from the dark winter sky. There was nothing but a sad burning hearth, giving the room a gloomy light. The door was slammed shut and a man stood in awe as a women lay with complete fear on her face and marks of strain, obviously from the pain. A man next to her rises.

He's a scruffy looking man with the face of someone who has seen too much death and despair to have any love or kindness in his heart, but here he was with subtle tears hidden in his dark, grave eyes. He studied the remarkable man for a second then threw his arms around this well dressed man that had just entered the cabin.“Suibhne.” He mumbled.

“Drest, is she going to live?” Suibhne asked suddenly taking a more postured stance.

“I don't know brother. She is in extreme amounts of pain as you can tell. Cynwrig has also taken up an illness. O brother, how could this happen to me.” He still clung to him as he buried his face into his shoulder.

Suibhne glanced over to see a dark figure under a blanket slowly get up, but he was shuttering in pain.

“When are they coming?” Asked Suibnhe.

“The gods only know.”

“They're coming with me.”

“No. Cynwrig can stay. He has proven himself a decent warrior. He will stay and fight. The newborn will go. So will Aphria” Drest was beginning to shake.

“Drest!” shouted Suibhne. “You can not be this way when they come. You can't let them win.”

“You realize I will die anyway. I'm only supposed to delay them.”

“I never mentioned anything of living, I said win. Your death will bring us victory. You will be avenged.”

A cry of pain brought both the men to Aphria's side. They tended to her for several minutes in silence. Then as Cynwrig came to help, Suibhne broke the silence.

“You have grown a lot since last time we've talked.”

“I hope the palace is treating you fine. I don't suppose you brought one of your doctor's with you.” Cynwrig's voice was full of malice and his face was beginning to redden.

“This birth is private. If one of my doctors had come it could destroy the whole legacy, you know that, and yes, the palace is fine.” He said the last part with ease and a practiced smirk.

“I knew nothing about this, or at least not about the Alunyth guards. Not until today.”

“Cynwrig, you have nothing to worry about. The legacy has foretold of your future.”

“And what does it say?”

Suibhne answered with a look of pity.

Cynwrig dropped his head wondering what he didn't have to worry about but still would sadden his uncle.

The winds were calming outside, but the silence was cut by the crying of a newborn son. The family stood around the heir to a throne that was not yet created. A smile was on each of their faces, but only for a moment. With a sudden change in attitude Suibhne turned and grabbed armfuls of blankets for Aphria and the newborn.

“Wait. Who will tend to the newborn while I ride? Surely Aphria is not the proper state to do so.” Questioned Suibhne.

“ Your right.” said Drest rising from a nearby stool. “Cynwrig, you will go with.”

“But Father...”

“I will hear none of your refusals in my last hours, go.”

Cynwrig turned to Suibhne who simply nodded. Cynwrig grabbed his sword, shield, ax, and bow. He then headed out with Suibnhe, and Aphria who was carrying the baby. He turned back and saw his father for the last time, but he was not satisfied. His father had the look of battle on his face and didn't seem to be his father anymore. It looked as though he wasn't losing anything this day. Neither family nor life, but this was how it had to be.

Cynwrig stepped out into the cold air of the night. It was so quiet that the soft click of the door latching startled him. It was said that the silence before an attack from the Alunyth guards is quiet enough for a def man to hear a pin drop, until their rifles rip through the air.

Suibnhe was helping Aphria into the cart when he looked over to see Cynwrig's eyes welling up with tears. Suibnhe looked at Cynwrig with sympathy. Though Suibnhe often faked his emotions out of habit, Cynwrig knew that this was genuine.

The cart that they sat in on this night of truth was astonishingly decorated. Its dark wood was engraved expertly and was pulled by two large, black matching stallions. Cynwrig took the newborn in his arms and cuddled in close with his mother, then rapped himself in the blankets. Then with a sudden bolt, the horses took off down the snow-covered dirt road. The small cabin became no more than a dark silhouette hanging at the edge of a long path.

Cynwrig was just beginning to relax as the cart took a sharp turn. They almost tipped as it swung into a snow bank. He heard muffled commands from one of the several horsemen behind them. Two of which took off towards the cart while the others continued down the road.

Cynwrig's heart sank and he realized this was probably where he would die. A loud cracking noise echoed through the night and was followed by the pounding of lead on the expensive wood of the cart. Another shot was fired but this time it hit the rim of the cart throwing splinters into the air.

Suibnhe looked back at the horsemen then glanced forward. He turned back again towards Cynwrig “Do something!” he shouted. 

Cynwrig's hands trembled as he knotted the first arrow. Knowing that he had to shoot true he took a deep breath and waited for time to stand still. He loosed the arrow and it sliced through the air pinning one of the horseman in the chest knocking him from his mount and throwing him into the soft snow below.

Now with more confidence he prepared for the next shot. The cart hit a rough patch so he waited. Another gunshot rung out and hit Cynwrig. As he slipped out of the cart his arrow loosened and hit the horse, flinging the horseman over the horse and landing on Cynwrig's still body. 

The cart rolled quietly away from the pile of bodies. The wheels, now loosening from the rugged terrain carried the cart over a small hill overlooking the glorious city of Alunyth. Though night, light still crept out from the city's heart with both loving passion and evil. Suibnhe felt the presence of success and fatigue. Then he felt worry. He had nowhere to bring Aphria and the newborn. He couldn't stay with them overnight, otherwise he would be held with suspicion. He couldn't bring them to the palace because of the king's disapproval of visitors.

Suibnhe drifted back to reality just as the cart drifted into a snowbank. He swiftly glided back on the road but the wheel gave out and the cart slid like a sled and the reins pulled the horses with the cart but they pulled until the reins snapped breaking part of the front of the cab. Suibnhe fell from the cart and landed in the snow while Aphria and the newborn slid into a snowbank. 

Suibnhe ran over as fast as he could. He reached into the mix of splinters and snow and pulled a small warm bundle of blankets which cried out into the night. He then saw a bare leg sticking out. He pulled on it until the rest of the body came with it. Aphria's body was paler than the moon and ice built up where her tear were as they rolled off her face with the wind. He checked her pulse even though there was no reason to do so.

He wished he could mourn but he had to save the baby. He ran as fast as his feet could carry him. By the time the road turned from dirt to cobblestone he was panting and in a blur. 

He saw a small forge nearby and he stumbled to the door of the blacksmith's. He beat the door hard as to wake any sleeping patrons of the house. He set the baby on a stool near the door. When he heard movement he  quickly pulled out a small pen and scribbled on a note, then vanished.

The door swung open and the angry blacksmith stepped out. He was followed by his beautiful wife who noticed the baby and took him in her arms. The blacksmith took the letter and mouthed a name, Kear.

Author's Note

I would really appreciate constructive criticism.