Splinter Angel Chapter 158 (Patreon)

In the final weeks of the cycle, there were two births.

Normally the birth of a child would be a private thing, celebrated only by friends and family. This was especially true when the mothers were a farmer’s daughter and a tavern maid; they weren’t exactly people in the public eye.

In these cases, things were different. It seemed everyone in the outpost knew just how far along the mothers were in their pregnancies, and as the time approached people tripped over themselves to offer their well-wishes, prayers, and gifts. The reason for all this attention was that these would be the first children born in the Splinter. Even before Ana arrived, before so many people suffered and died, they’d been seen as symbols of hope. Now they were treated as though their births would signal the end of all troubles, and the beginning of a new, bright future.

Ana was frankly relieved to have some of the pressure off her shoulders. Let someone else be the beacon of hope for once.

So Ana knew that there was much ado about these two babies who were about to be born. She expected excitement, and perhaps for someone to ask what she thought about it all. She didn’t expect Touanne, in her role as the outpost’s midwife, to ask her—practically beg her, really—to help with the deliveries.

It wasn’t a huge ask, really. Touanne didn’t actually want her to participate. All she wanted was for Ana to invite each woman into her Party when her time came, so that she could benefit from the massive Vitality boost. There was no need for Ana to be in the room. Of course, she only made that clear after Ana told her on no uncertain terms that she would be staying more than twenty feet away at all times; she had no idea how Guardian Angel would treat childbirth, and she fully intended to never find out.

She may have been more emphatic than strictly necessary.

“The Attribute bonus is all I’m asking you for,” Touanne had said soothingly, not at all discouraged or offended by Ana’s choice of tone or words. “Though I would appreciate it if you could be present for a few hours afterward. Childbirth is exhausting, and even with my magic and my healing aura they would benefit from your Companionship Ability.”

“Sure. Yeah, that I can do,” Ana had replied. And so it was that Ana found herself being brought to the restored Servemel farmhouse in the middle of the night, so that she could add Yarri, Servemel’s eldest daughter, to her Party. Messy came with her, though why, Ana wasn’t sure. And after a few mercifully short hours of labor, which Ana spent far away, wandering the edge of the forest, Messy came to bring her back. Yarri had asked to see her again.

The room, though it was being aired out, smelled like… well, childbirth, Ana supposed. It wasn’t exactly a clean process, no matter which world you were in. Servemel and the rest of the farmstead crowded around the bed, and in it, sweaty and pale yet beaming with joy and pride, was Yarri. And in her arms, making occasional little whimpering sounds, was a baby, the first to ever be born in this Splinter.

Ana Inspected it. All the label said was [Human].

“Thank you,” Yarri said when she noticed Ana’s arrival. Her voice was hoarse, and she sounded tired, but also so very, very happy. “Thank you, Miss Ana. For everything.”

“Sure,” Ana replied awkwardly. Even though she’d been asked to come, she felt like she was intruding on a supremely private moment. She wasn’t sure what to do until Messy urged her forward with a gentle shove. “Uh… is it a boy or a girl?”

“A boy. A perfect, healthy little boy,” Yarri said. “I’m naming him Wandak.”

“Oh, Wandak will like that!” Messy said happily. She wasn’t exaggerating, either. The heavily pierced Swordsman had a soft side to him. And there were worse ways to pick a name than to honor the man who’d carried you to safety from a horde of bloodthirsty changelings.

“I hope so,” the new mother said. “I truly mean it, though, Miss Ana. Thank you. Without you we’d—gods, what am I thinking, talking about that now? Thank you.” Then she grew hesitant, perhaps even a little nervous, and she had to visibly work up her courage to ask, “Miss Ana… can I ask your blessing for my son?”

Her gut reaction was to refuse. To argue that a blessing from her was entirely meaningless, and that she was sick of being treated as something more than she was. But that wasn’t true, was it? A blessing from her wasn’t meaningless. It had no mystical power that Ana was aware of, but Yarri and all the people surrounding her certainly seemed to believe that it did, and refusing them would look terrible.

Besides, it wasn’t just them who were watching Ana expectantly. Touanne was as well, and Ana hadn’t missed the delighted little gasp that had escaped Messy at the request. And that sealed it.

“How could I possibly refuse?” Ana said, putting all the softness and kindness that she could muster into her voice. The Servemels backed away from the bed to give her room to approach, and as she knelt by the head there was a soft, collective gasp as everyone held their breaths in anticipation.

May as well put on a show, Ana thought, and the flickering candlelight that danced on the walls melted into a pale, shimmering blue as she manifested her wings, enveloping the mother and child with them.

Within the fairy-light cocoon of the ethereal wings Yarri watched, spellbound, as Ana carefully laid her fingertips on little Wandak’s head. And when Ana spoke, she did so in English.

“Hey, kid,” she said, in that same soft, gentle voice. “I don’t know what they expect of me here. The world can suck, alright? But there’s a lot of good things, too. A lot of things that make it all worth it. I hope you get a lot more of the good things than the sucky ones. And when things get exciting, I hope it’s all the fun kind. Oh, and be good to your mom! Not everybody gets to have a mom who loves them.”

Little Wandak gave off a soft whine, his tiny hands waving aimlessly

“I’m glad to hear that,” Ana whispered, a small, genuine smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

When she stood and dismissed her wings, a reverent silence lay over the room. It was broken by Yarri when she whispered, “Thank you, Chosen, and bless you,” bowing her head respectfully before returning her attention to little Wandak as the babe began to whimper.

That was, apparently, Ana’s cue to leave. Heads bowed as Servemel, now a proud grandfather, led her and Messy out and to a small simply but comfortably furnished room. Ana suspected that someone—or more likely a couple—had been put out of their bed for the night to accommodate her and Messy, but she wasn’t going to decline.

When Ana and Messy left the next morning, Yarri already looked almost entirely recovered. Indoor plumbing may be a luxury in this world, but Ana doubted even a billionaire back on Earth had access to better obstetric care. Medicine could do much, but it wasn’t alchemy, and it wasn’t magic.

Nine days later, it was Nistra the tavern maid’s turn. This time it was Jisha who came to fetch Ana, to bring her to Touanne's, where the expectant mother had been brought; unlike Yarri, Nistra didn't have a home that Touanne judged appropriate for a safe, orderly birth. Nistra was also younger and more scared than Yarri had been, and with the exception of a fretful young man who was doubtlessly the father, the few people with her were friends, not family. One of them, Ana noted when she arrived, was Bragglin, who was holding Nistra’s hand and smiled warmly when Ana and Messy arrived.

Nistra didn’t notice Ana walk in. “Are you sure, though?” she was asking Touanne. “Are you completely sure? Maybe it’s juUUU—”

Her words turned into a high-pitched groan as another contraction hit, and once Touanne had soothed the pain she reassured the girl that, yes, it was most definitely time.

“I had to carry her here,” Braglinn said quietly as Touanne performed some very mundane midwifery to determine how soon they should expect the baby to come. “She’s been terribly scared. Bella—” She nodded toward one of the other young women in the room, “—came to get me when she tried to keep working despite her water having broken.”

“There’s a lovely image,” Messy whispered wryly. “But she’s huge! How could she be in denial about what’s happening?”

Braglinn shrugged. “She must have been three months along before she accepted that she was even with child. It’s a big change, yes? She and Frit are both young, with no family here. It’s no wonder if she’s scared.” Then she turned to her friend and smiled softly. “But with Touanne here, and you, Ana, she’s going to be just fine. And us girls are going to spoil her and the baby rotten. You’ll see.” 

Despite Nistra’s fear and denial, her daughter came into the world both faster and more easily than little Wandak had. And this time, when the new mother asked if Ana wanted to see the baby, Ana had an idea of what to expect.

Well, not entirely. Nistra also thanked Ana profusely and asked for her blessing, but then Ana asked what the little girl’s name was.

“We want to name her after you, Miss Ana,” Nistra said. “If that’s okay, I mean. Anastasia. It’s so pretty.”

“And we don’t really have any better way of showing our thanks for all you’ve done, Chosen,” the father admitted. Braggie had called him Frit, and the name was faintly familiar. He was a Cobbler’s Apprentice and had volunteered for the spears along with Mamtass the priest and most of the Wayfarer’s faithful. He also looked way too young to be a father in Ana’s opinion, but he was there, so he was already doing way better than her own father had.

“I really don’t think I should have any say in what you name your girl,” Ana told them. “But if you want my permission, sure. You have it. Just make sure she grows up knowing she’s loved, alright?”

“Of course!” Nistra said, stroking the fuzz on her daughter’s head. Then she looked at Ana and raised the baby just a few inches, asking, “Do you want to hold her?”

“I, uh… sure,” Ana said, accepting the infant almost on reflex when the father carefully took her from Nistra’s arms and offered her to her.

It wasn’t the first time Ana held a baby. Far from it; she'd never held a literal newborn before, but she’d been babysitting since she was nine all the way up until she fled her foster home. But no baby had ever felt quite as fragile as this one did. Ana was so much stronger now, and while she knew for a fact that she had near perfect control of all that strength, it still felt like Baby Anastasia was made of cotton candy—like the slightest false move could do some kind of irreparable harm.

To cover her nerves, Ana manifested her wings and closed them around her. “Hey, Ana,” she whispered to the baby, who’d opened her eyes and was staring in silent fascination at the lights surrounding them. Her eyes were baby blue, with little flecks of grey. Ana’s own eyes had been like that in the one picture she’d seen of herself as a baby. “You know,” she continued, “I think you’re gonna have a much better childhood than I did. I don’t know if your parents have any clue what they’re doing, but they love you and each other and they mean well. Trust me, I can tell. So appreciate that, okay? And when you get older, no matter what you decide to do with yourself, learn to kick some ass. You may never need it, but you can’t believe what a difference it makes to your confidence.” Then she laughed softly to herself. “Or don’t. I’m hardly a role model. Just have a good life, alright? And don’t take any shit from anyone.”

She handed the baby back to her mother, and left the new parents to wonder what divine wisdom she’d imparted there, wrapped up in her angelic wings.

“That was terribly sweet, you know,” Messy said as they sat in Touanne’s kitchen.

“What was?” Ana replied.

“You and baby Anastasia. I’ve never seen you look at anyone the way you looked at her. Well, except me. I had no idea you like babies!”

Ana shrugged. “I like kids in general, I guess. They’re cute.”

“Yeah?” Messy looked at her thoughtfully, her tone becoming more serious as she said, “Is that something you want?”

Ana replied instantly and vehemently. “Kids? Gods no! I should under no circumstances be responsible for raising a child. Jesus. Poor kid.”

Messy reached across the table to take Ana’s hands. “Why do you say that?” she asked softly. Her heartache at Ana’s reaction bled through her skin; it was in her tone, in her eyes, even in her touch. But she didn’t sound disappointed. She sounded sympathetic.

“You know me,” Ana replied. “I’ve only ever loved one person. I have no reason to believe that I’ll ever love anyone else. Even if, gods forbid, I somehow got pregnant, and if I carried that baby to term, why would it be any different? And wouldn’t that be the most monstrous gods-damn thing I could possibly do? Bring a child into the world, and then not love it?”

“Hmm,” Messy hummed sadly. Her eyes fell to their joined hands between them, and for many long seconds she didn’t say anything else.

“What’re you thinking?” Ana asked.

Messy looked up, her eyes soft and bright, and replied, “You didn’t say that you don’t want kids. Only that you shouldn’t have them.” Again, there was no disappointment. She sounded sad, yes, but for Ana, not for herself. “In a way, it’s a good thing. I don’t want them either. I have absolutely no interest in making one, neither the act itself nor the months after, and I’m far too much in love with my freedom to adopt. Being in agreement here is a relief. I just can’t help but be sad about the idea that you might be denying yourself something that would make you happy.”

“Hey, don’t worry about that,” Ana said, turning her hands palms up so she could hold Messy’s. “I made my peace with it a long time ago. And have you seen how many friends we have? What are the odds of none of them having any kids? If I decide I suddenly really want a kid to spoil, we’ll just be the free spirited aunts who swoop in with presents and terrible advice every so often. How about that?”

Messy snorted softly. “How does that fit in with your plans to Ascend and defeat a god?”

“We’d be the best aunts. The envy of every other kid in the village.”

That earned Ana a chuckle. “I suppose we would. But are you sure?” Messy asked seriously.

“Yeah. I meant what I said. I shouldn’t be a mother.”

Messy let the topic drop there, but there was still a haze of sadness about her. She clearly still thought that Ana wanted to be a mother at some point. And Ana honestly wasn’t sure. Maybe she did, deep down. But she’d be damned if she deliberately took the risk of putting a kid through a loveless childhood, and that was that.