> Sehr em ver

>

> Phrase

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> Translation: Nice to meet you

>

> Definition: "Sehr em ver" is a formal greeting in Menschen, used when making someone's acquaintance. The phrase expresses a sense of pleasure or honor in the meeting. It is a polite expression, typically used in respectful or formal situations, and can also imply a degree of positive anticipation for the relationship or interaction that is to follow.

"Yeso," Noctavia called out, "Are you listening?"

Quickly understanding the moment's gravity, Yeso snatched the fabric strip from her trembling hands, binding it across his eyes. "I still don't see why this is necessary," he began, his voice trailing off as he was abruptly cut short by a piercing scream that seemed to emanate from the very core of his Hexe.

"Zonnestra?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her, supporting her as they leaned against the cool, damp bank of the lake. "Is it... are we... are you...?"

She nodded, her breaths short and laboured. "It's starting," she managed to gasp out between clenched teeth.

"We need help, love. I can't do this alone," Yeso said, starting to panic.

"No, stay with me!" she shouted, her voice echoing with another scream of pain, "You promised!"

Yeso's mind raced. "Perhaps I could send a signal, a light to the sky. Godmama might see it and—"

"You promised, Yeso!"

His words were cut off as time itself seemed to freeze. The world around them stood still, the leaves on the trees motionless, the water of the lake as smooth as glass. They were enveloped in a bubble of suspended time, alone and isolated. Noctavia couldn’t hold her powers in her state of distress.

"What should I do? What..." Yeso's voice trailed off again, uncertain, his blindfolded eyes reflecting his helplessness.

"I need to... I..." Noctavia's words were cut short by another scream, a raw sound of pain and fear. She wasn't actively pushing; the pain was overwhelming, leaving her unsure of how to proceed. Both of them were in the dark.

"Okay, love, try to breathe... just try to..."

"I'm trying!"

In that moment of desperation, the Howling Night appeared beside them from the shadows, its presence a sudden but not unwelcome intrusion. Alongside the wolf was a small white mouse, an incongruous yet familiar figure.

"Oh, boy, oh, boy! How exciting! Finally, I will meet my master," the mouse exclaimed with a voice that seemed too large for its small body.

"Dreamer!" Howl addressed the mouse sharply, "Can you help?"

"Of course I can!" the mouse responded with enthusiasm, "After all, I am the Dreamer."

In a moment that seemed both bizarre and utterly natural, the mouse transformed. Legs and arms sprouted from its small body, its form expanding and shifting until it stood as a being in a flowing, graceful white dress with striking white hair and captivating red eyes. Between her lips, she held an amber eye, which not long ago belonged to the Spring herself.

She removed the eye from her mouth and carefully placed it in Yeso's unaware hand, which trembled slightly under the weight of the mysterious object. "Don't use it, don't look at it, and don't lose it! I'll need it later," she instructed with a tone that brooked no argument.

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Yeso nodded. His expression was serious and focused despite his inability to see. The situation was beyond his understanding, but he knew his role was crucial.

"Who..." Yeso asked, holding the amber eye carefully.

"A friend..."

The Dreamer, now in her human-like form, glanced at Noctavia with a comforting smile. "It will hurt, but we're going to get through this," she said as gently as possible. She reached under Noctavia's skirt and finally announced, "Now is a good time to push, mamavida."

Noctavia's response was a series of screams, each one filled with the intense effort of childbirth. The sounds reverberated in a strange, fluctuating manner, echoing through the suspended reality where time itself seemed to halt, rewind, and fast-forward unpredictably. Noctavia was doing something utterly new to her, exerting herself in ways she never had before.

Yeso, blindfolded and unable to see the extraordinary events unfolding, felt the strange, almost tangible shifts in time. These temporal fluctuations brushed against his skin like an intangible breeze while Noctavia's grip on his fingers tightened, crushing them in her agony.

"Okay, once more!" the Dreamer encouraged, "You can do this, mamavida!"

Yeso was tempted, so very tempted, to remove the blindfold and share in Noctavia's pain, to witness the effort of their child's birth. But he had promised her, promised to be her strength by not seeing, not feeling her pain. He didn't need to do anything else but be there, to be her unwavering support.

"Again!" the Dreamer urged, "Push!"

With one final, monumental effort, Noctavia pushed again, her scream piercing the eerie temporal void. And then, as if breaking the spell, the cry of a newborn echoed, snapping time back into its natural rhythm.

The Dreamer gently lifted the child, cradling the newborn in her arms. Tears mingled with laughter as she looked down at the baby. "Oh, Master, you came back! You came back! You return to me..."

She then carefully placed the baby on Noctavia's chest, the moment marking the end of a journey and the beginning of another.

Noctavia, exhausted yet overwhelmed with love, gazed down at the tiny face of her child, her heart swelling with a profound, indescribable love. That until now, she didn't think it was possible. Beside her, Yeso, still blindfolded, sensed the shift in the air, the arrival of new life, and knew their world had changed forever.

"It’s a boy..."

Relief washed over Yeso as he heard those words, a deep exhale escaping his lips. "Can I take off the blindfold now?" he asked, almost begging.

The Dreamer, her task completed, retrieved her amber eye and swiftly vanished, returning to her original form as a small white mouse. At that same moment, Yeso removed the fabric from his eyes, and the world came back into focus. There before him were Noctavia, weary but radiant, and their newborn son, Orlo Yeso Sternach. However, he will be known to the world as Professor Edgar O. Duvencrune—but that is a story for a later time.

The baby, born in a moment outside of time, in a place of power, assisted into the world by two Spirits, was indeed special. Yeso remembered Godmama's words and knew they had been prescient. This child was destined for greatness.

"He is so beautiful," Yeso whispered, his voice barely audible in his awe. Gently, he caressed his son's soft cheek. "He has my eyes."

But Noctavia, still recovering from the ordeal, noticed something unexpected. "Why does he have red hair?" she asked surprised.

Faewood was utterly transformed on the following moons, bathed in a sea of golden lilies. The air was sweet, imbued with the taste of honey, and a comforting warmth enveloped everything. The arrival of the winged baby Menschen, Orlo, with his striking red hair, had captivated every faery in the surroundings.

Orlo, for all the uniqueness of his birth, was much like any other infant. He cried, demanded constant attention, and spent most of his time napping, often curled up in the laps of doting onlookers. Noctavia, in her recovery phase, was cared for tenderly by Yeso, who found himself unable to look away from his son for long.

Everything around them seemed like a scene from a perfect fairy tale until one day, it was not.

> Reflecting on my childhood, the memories of my parents are faint, almost none. I can't vividly recall their voices or their scent. Yet, certain images remain etched in my mind. I remember the depth in my father's eyes and the gentle curve of my mother's smile – these are fragments I cling to like cherished treasures of my childhood. One peculiar memory stands out. I sometimes saw my father blindfolding himself, an act that puzzled me still to this day. It was my godmama who shed light on this mystery. She explained that for a Hexe, blindfolding was to spare the other from pain. For the longest time, I pondered over this. Was it truly the eyes of the Hexe that forged such profound connections? Or was the blindfold merely a placebo, a symbolic gesture with no real power? The answer eluded me until the day I donned the blindfold myself. Until this day, I never removed it and it works. ——The Hexe - Book One by Professor Edgar O. Duvencrune, Special Edition, 555th Summer