Die marching
Chapter
18th Adamant, King’s Year 582 – 10 years before the opening of the Dark Portal
“Bethany.”
“No, I don’t want to name her that. How about naming her after your grandmother? Greta? How about it? That’s a good name and I always did like the old bat. But no, that doesn’t sound right either. How about…”
Wymorland sat on the bed next to his wife and his hand was on her shoulder. It felt warm and loving which comforted Lilyfor, but she seemed to pay no mind to her husband’s rambling and allowed him to carry on the conversation with himself – which he seemed content to do. Lilyfor had already named the beautiful baby girl cradled in her arms and she spoke the name for her daughter’s sake: to tell her who she was.
“Bethany.”
She whispered the name to her daughter again. It made her so happy to say it. Wymorland said something else, but Bethany had eyes and ears only for Bethany. She gazed with utter delight at her sleeping newborn child and soon enough she fell asleep too. She had been exhausted, of course, but the labor had gone relatively smoothly. Bethany was a gentle soul, Lilyfor could already tell, and had not overly pained her.
The boy on the other hand had been difficult. The labor had lasted for days and Lilyfor had been certain she was going to die. Even once born he did not let them rest and refused to stop crying. He was growing into quite the troublemaker. Bethany though barely cried after her birth. She was quite and serene and her mother’s caring touch was all she sought.
The labor had begun late in the evening and taken most of the rest of the night. Bethany had been born a few hours earlier and now the Sun began poking its head over the horizon. Rays of light seeped their way in through the window and crept closer and closer to where Lilyfor and Bethany slept.
Wymorland carefully rose from the bed and quietly walked across the room to close the curtains. He looked at his son who was asleep at the foot of the bed; he was normally so full of energy and curious about everything in the world, but it had been amusing how shy he had been around the baby and how quiet he had been the entire time.
Certainly, Wymorland was glad that his son hadn’t been a bother the same way he was during much of everything else, but he couldn’t help but smile at how nervous his son had been. Wymorland lifted his son, careful not to wake him, and put him in his own bed in his room. Eventually he would share that room with Bethany but for now the baby was to sleep in a cot in the room Wymorland and Lilyfor shared, unless of course Bethany slept with her mother as she did now.
Wymorland watched as his son slept and could not help but smile. It was a joyous day. He and his wife were blessed with two healthy children. He admired his son’s rambunctious spirit and wondered if having a baby sister would temper his son. Wymorland concluded that he would have to impress the importance of protecting Bethany to his son as soon as possible.
Ambermill was beginning to wake up as Wymorland walked to the Town Hall. He saw friends and fellow townsfolk leave their homes to begin a new day of work. His friend George strode up to him and slapped him on the back.
George had been there for the birth, as well as a few others, but had left shortly afterwards to catch as many hours of sleep as he could. He looked like he would fair the day better than Wymorland. But as Wymorland saw it, having a second child was motivation to work harder and not to motivation to slack off. He’d gone nights without sleep before and he’d manage just fine.
“Bethany.”
“No, I don’t want to name her that. How about naming her after your grandmother? Greta? How about it? That’s a good name and I always did like the old bat. But no, that doesn’t sound right either. How about…”
Wymorland sat on the bed next to his wife and his hand was on her shoulder. It felt warm and loving which comforted Lilyfor, but she seemed to pay no mind to her husband’s rambling and allowed him to carry on the conversation with himself – which he seemed content to do. Lilyfor had already named the beautiful baby girl cradled in her arms and she spoke the name for her daughter’s sake: to tell her who she was.
“Bethany.”
She whispered the name to her daughter again. It made her so happy to say it. Wymorland said something else, but Bethany had eyes and ears only for Bethany. She gazed with utter delight at her sleeping newborn child and soon enough she fell asleep too. She had been exhausted, of course, but the labor had gone relatively smoothly. Bethany was a gentle soul, Lilyfor could already tell, and had not overly pained her.
The boy on the other hand had been difficult. The labor had lasted for days and Lilyfor had been certain she was going to die. Even once born he did not let them rest and refused to stop crying. He was growing into quite the troublemaker. Bethany though barely cried after her birth. She was quite and serene and her mother’s caring touch was all she sought.
The labor had begun late in the evening and taken most of the rest of the night. Bethany had been born a few hours earlier and now the Sun began poking its head over the horizon. Rays of light seeped their way in through the window and crept closer and closer to where Lilyfor and Bethany slept.
Wymorland carefully rose from the bed and quietly walked across the room to close the curtains. He looked at his son who was asleep at the foot of the bed; he was normally so full of energy and curious about everything in the world, but it had been amusing how shy he had been around the baby and how quiet he had been the entire time.
Certainly, Wymorland was glad that his son hadn’t been a bother the same way he was during much of everything else, but he couldn’t help but smile at how nervous his son had been. Wymorland lifted his son, careful not to wake him, and put him in his own bed in his room. Eventually he would share that room with Bethany but for now the baby was to sleep in a cot in the room Wymorland and Lilyfor shared, unless of course Bethany slept with her mother as she did now.
Wymorland watched as his son slept and could not help but smile. It was a joyous day. He and his wife were blessed with two healthy children. He admired his son’s rambunctious spirit and wondered if having a baby sister would temper his son. Wymorland concluded that he would have to impress the importance of protecting Bethany to his son as soon as possible.
Ambermill was beginning to wake up as Wymorland walked to the Town Hall. He saw friends and fellow townsfolk leave their homes to begin a new day of work. His friend George strode up to him and slapped him on the back.
George had been there for the birth, as well as a few others, but had left shortly afterwards to catch as many hours of sleep as he could. He looked like he would fair the day better than Wymorland. But as Wymorland saw it, having a second child was motivation to work harder and not to motivation to slack off. He’d gone nights without sleep before and he’d manage just fine.