~ 7th Lackfrost, 3E 306 ~
Marvalo Telnoth is born.
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Strange sounds and feelings filled his head. The stroking and singing had faded into clamping and groaning. He did not enjoy this change, and pushed back against the sudden force as much as his frail body allowed. But the clamping would not relent. It grasped and pushed, trying to expel him from the comfort of his home. The sheer unpleasantness was enough to prod him fully awake, causing him to redouble his attempts to thrash. It seemed to work, as the clamping ceased for a while. More sounds resonated around him. They were not as intense as the groaning, but carried the same tone. Disturbingly, just as he was about to return to his slumber, the clamping reappeared, and the groaning came through louder than ever. It made sleeping highly difficult. Then, something even worse happened. A physical ripple went through his home, and then something touched him. It was a large something that wrapped around his whole body. The touchy thing seemed to be conspiring with the clamping to pull him outside.
He couldn’t even thrash anymore; the touchy thing was stronger than him, grasping and moving him about as though he were an inanimate object. As he was pulled farther and farther, the clamping became worse, putting pressure on him from every direction. Then, something changed. His legs were suddenly free of the clamping. But now they felt… tingly. It was strange. It was… wet? Why were his legs wet? He felt tender, exposed. But the grasping thing did not care, and pulled him further. The wetness spread to his waist, his stomach, and soon his arms and chest.
‘Why am I so small?’
He experienced his first conscious thought as the grasping thing — the hands — pulled him further into the feeling of wetness. The thought felt heavy in his mind, and seemed to take great effort to produce. Sleep would have taken him into its soft embrace already if not for the strangeness he felt. Finally, his head was pulled free.
‘It’s cold.’
Even now, in the cold, bright, and unfamiliar place, the hands would not leave him be. They poked and prodded, holding him and pressing him. Liquid poured down him, and the feeling of wetness was renewed. This wetness felt different, though. It was so strange. Everything was… strange. He felt pressure build within himself, seemingly separated from the pressure of the hands and the clamping. He felt a sudden sense of danger, and the pressure built higher.
Late at night on the seventh of Lackfrost, Marvalo Telnoth took his first breath, coughing and spluttering as he purged the fluids from his lungs.
He felt so very cold.
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~ 18th Lackfrost, 3E 306 ~
Marvalo meets his father.
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He had adjusted to life outside of his mother’s womb, and no longer felt air to be a strange, invasive thing. Even if it was cold. But still, an ethereal sense of strangeness followed the young Marvalo wherever his mother carried him. All the strange people around him would talk in strange words he couldn’t understand, but from the way they had spoken he had managed to deduce the word ‘Marvalo’ as his name. He spent his time quietly watching, observing the strangers as they spoke to him, his mother, and each other. They spoke to him a lot.
“He’s so quiet,” remarked a fascinated young woman. “He just watches us. I’ve never seen a baby like him.”
“I know,” spoke the voice of his mother, “Tomas was always either crying or sleeping. It’s like night and day.”
The two women sat and chatted as friends for a good while, talking about the trials and tribulations of motherhood. In this, the handmaiden had a good deal more experience than the youthful queen, and so offered as much helpful advice as she could think of. Meridi Telnoth spent most of the conversation worrying that her child might be ill or otherwise abnormal, while the handmaid Juleia spent most of it reassuring her mistress that Marvalo was simply special, and that he would grow up fine and healthy. Marvalo, for his part, looked on with a complete lack of comprehension. What strange sounds these people made.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
But he recognized his name. Whenever it was spoken, he shifted his gaze to whoever had spoken it, causing the women to worry and fuss and marvel at the young boy’s cognizance.
“You mustn’t worry for him overmuch, Majesty. I believe he simply has a more active mind than most infants. While I’ve never met a child like him before, I doubt he’s unwell or disturbed. He seems simply… curious.”
Meridi sighed anxiously. “Do you truly believe so, Jul? Even if you’re right, and there’s nothing wrong with him, his… uniqueness may draw unfriendly attention from the church. What if they say he’s possessed? What if they try to take him, Juleia?”
Juleia sighed herself, but this one was closer to exasperation. “They won’t take him, Meri. They could try, but we both know your husband wouldn’t stand for it — even if it meant going to war with the faith.”
That made the Queen sigh again, no less anxious than the last time. “He would do that, wouldn’t he?”
Marvalo let out a little ‘huff,’ mimicking the pair of sighing women. Juliea giggled.
“Silly little Marvalo,” his mother cooed, her worries momentarily forgotten. “How can you be so strange, but still so cute?”
Baby Marvalo giggled slightly as the Queen smiled and booped him on the nose, his tiny little face twisting into a smile.
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It was now evening, and the little prince was sleepy. For hours, he had been watching what happened around him, trying to decipher the meaning behind every action. Progress was slow. But now the handmaiden Juleia had departed, and he was out of interesting things to watch. So, with a belly full of his mother’s milk, he snuggled in close to her as she hummed gentle melodies. Ever since being torn from the womb, he had never felt as warm as before, but the warmth of his mother’s bosom came close. In the coldness of the world, she was the protective blanket that helped lull him to sleep.
Until the peace was shattered by a messenger unceremoniously bursting into the room.
“Lady Meridi, the—”
“Keep your voice down, fool!” The Queen hissed.
Marvalo, having been thoroughly roused, hugged his mother tighter with an agitated grunt.
“I-I apologize for the intrusion, Majesty. I bring news.”
“Speak, then,” she whispered sharply.
“Lord Arnald has returned from his parley with Sornoth. They have reached a ceasefire. He promises to be reunited with you before the next sun rises, and apologizes for not sending a messenger sooner. He also apologizes most earnestly for missing the birth of his child.”
A swell of emotions bubbled in Meridi’s chest, threatening to spill over in a mess of tears and laughter. It was with difficulty that she stifled the flow — but her baby was trying to sleep, so she managed.
“I-I see. Tell the King that his child is well, and that we shall discuss his shortcomings at great length in the days to come. Do tell him I love him, as well.”
“At once, my Queen.”
With that, the messenger bowed and excused himself, leaving the nursery just as quickly as he came — if a great deal more quietly. Meridi went back to trying to hum her baby to sleep, and Marvalo continued fitfully cuddling his mother. It didn’t help that he could hear her voice shaking slightly; the Queen was caught up in thoughts of politics, and family, and the future, and it was all a little overwhelming. There was peace, but would it last? How would the political repercussions of a ceasefire affect their kingdom? What would all this mean for her children? It was difficult to keep herself from thinking of such things, even knowing it would do her no good at present. Marvalo was also thinking.
‘People are loud. I don’t like it.’
The burdens of a baby were plentiful, indeed.
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“He’s got your eyes,” whispered the King.
Marvalo’s pale green eyes gave him a sleepy glare.
‘Mom, tell him to leave me alone.’
“Yes, he does,” sighed the Queen. “Arnald, dear, I think we had best retire.”
“I know, Meri, but — I just got back, and I’ll have a thousand things to do by morning, I’m sure of it.”
“All the same, dear, it is late. The baby is tired. I am tired.”
Arnald Telnoth made a pitiful attempt at puppy-dog eyes. His wife met them with a steely, bloodshot glare.
“A-alright…”
With a tired sigh, Meridi gestured for her husband to excuse himself. He obeyed, leaving the mother and child to succumb to exhaustion. Within minutes, baby Marvalo was passed out, resting against his mothers chest. Once she was sure he was asleep, the Queen carefully walked over to the crib, and placed the young prince inside. Once he was sufficiently swaddled in blankets, she found her own bed and allowed herself to collapse into its embrace.
Marvalo’s sleep would be full of strange and frightful dreams, as it had been for the past eleven days.