The night was stormy and dark, thunder roared in the distance like a dragon screaming in defiance of the heavens. A woman was pregnant and giving birth. Blood covered the bedsheets as the humble midwife worked with spell, charm, and knowledge to assist the woman. But she was young, much too young to be having a child. Only fifteen, a noble girl sold away for a small fortune to an uncaring merchant. Her small frame wasn’t ready for this kind of thing, yet fate had given her this struggle, and it was up to her to survive the tribulation.
Hours passed and the storm only grew worse. Her meagre cultivation, only at the Body Cleansing third stage, not even a true cultivator, was not enough to help her body survive being ripped apart in this difficult birth. She bled both internally and externally, and her screams matched the lightning and thunder outside. It was as if the heavens themselves were watching, and screaming alongside her. Then, a second screaming matched her own, and it was over.
The creature was small, blue, and weak. Its breaths were laboured and struggling, but its voice screamed with strength. The Midwife gave it a firm slap on the back, and it took a deep breath. The colour began to return to normal, going from blue to white. The baby was given to the mother, who had to nurse it with a bottle.
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“Congratulations, my lady. It’s a boy.” The Midwife told the mother. “What shall you name him?”
“Rong Ling. Honourable Soul.” The mother replied, holding the small baby to her body. “After my Grandfather.”
“That is a wonderful name, mistress.” The midwife told her. The storm outside still raged, and the woman slowly weakened. The Midwife comforted her, while her soul slowly passed from her mortal body. She died with a smile on her lips, and her child in her arms as it began to wail for the mother who had passed.
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At the same time, out in the dark and frozen forests of the north, a litter of kits were born in the hollow of a tree. Six baby foxes were born in the middle of the storm. Five healthy and normal kits, and one small runt. The father watched over the event, vigilant for any threats to his new family.
The kits nursed on their mother, all except for the runt. Unlike the others who were born with their eyes closed and used their instincts to find their food, the runt was wide-eyed and looking around. She looked up at her father with a spark in her golden eyes. The father looked back down and snarled at her. He saw this strange runt as a threat. When the runt didn’t look away, he bared his teeth and got ready to attack the strange kit.
That is when the mother snapped at the father, and he backed off. The mother wrapped her tail around the strange kit and guided her to the nipple, letting her feed with her siblings. The instinct to protect her young easily overriding the wariness of the strange and unusual. The golden-eyed kit snuggled up with its siblings, warm and full. She was content and happy.