The Core

Lark was cuddled on the couch, warming by the fire. She shut her eyes in a desperate attempt to shut out the screams of pain coming from the other room. It was a mixture of Helena’s calming voice reiterating the word ‘push,’ Taylon and Lyrius’ encouraging voices and Rhiana’s angry response. It had been going on for an hour.

The door to the sleeping room opened and Tyrion walked out, rubbing his sleepy eyes. He was napping before dinner and dinner would soon need to be prepared. He looked at the room and walked over to Lark. “It sounds like Rhi-rhi is dying,” he commented, casting his eyes to the ground. “That baby isn’t very nice.”

Tyrion plopped onto the couch and nuzzled his small little body against Lark until she moved her arms. Then, he put his head in her lap and looked up at her with big round eyes. “Is she going to be okay?” He asked concern twisting his innocent little features. Lark giggled, dropping her hands to the small boy’s hair and racking her fingers through it.

“Of course she is. The baby isn’t mean either, it’s just making an entrance,” Lark said, shrugging. She wasn’t exactly good with children; she had never been around them. She only knew Lavena and she was almost considered an adult. Tyrion, however, was the picture of innocence in Lark’s eyes. She couldn’t taint his world with the truth of what Rhiana was going through.

After many more painful screams, the world was silenced to that of one pair of small lungs. Lark looked down at Tyrion who had fallen asleep again. She couldn’t understand how he could sleep when there was so much screaming, but she continued to play with his hair anyway. It took a while before someone emerged from the room. Taylon walked over to Lark, sat down next to her, casually through his arm around her shoulder and sighed.

“That was rough,” he finally said. He looked tired to Lark with circles around his eyes. His handsome features were streaked with sweat, his clothes wet also. His hair was ruffled because he touches his hair when he’s nervous and he continued sighing.

“How did it go?” She asked. Taylon turned to Lark, taking her in for a second. He knew he didn not look or smell good, but she was always wonderful. Despite her stay in Palimea, she still smelt like some unrecognizable floral scent. Her eyes shone with genuine concern and curiosity about Rhiana. Taylon himself was curious as to why she had left the room.

“As good as any birth can go,” he commented, nonchalantly. Honestly, he didn’t really want to remember or retell his mother’s twisted and painful expression. He didn’t want to recall the amounts of fluids, sweat and stress there was in that room. There were better things that room was used for. “They’re both sleeping now.”

“Are you going to tell me what it is?” Lark cried, impatient with Taylon skipping over the most important detail of this whole entire adventure. He smirked at her, stretching and yawning slightly as if he was too exhausted to even tell her what happened. She glared at him, waiting for the response.

“It’s a girl. Her name is Melaoney,” he said finally, smiling a little. “I’m officially a big brother.” He was beaming for he had always wanted a little sister. It was nice to have Tyrion, but it wasn’t the same as having a real sibling. “Anyway, my mother and the baby will stay in that room until the baby gets big enough to sleep in a cot.”

“And so we can all get some sleep,” Lark commented, a look of disdain on her face. Taylon questioned why she had such a look on her face. He couldn’t imagine someone disliking
babies. It was impossible because they were just bundles of poop and joy.

“You don’t like kids?” He asked glancing down at Tyrion, cuddled in Lark’s lap. She had her manicured fingers playing with wisp of golden locks. It didn’t seem like she disliked children. In fact, Taylon thought that Lark would make a wonderful mother one day.

“I didn’t say that,” Lark said, glancing down at Tyrion. Lark did enjoy Tyrion and she liked Lavena too. However, she didn’t like the idea of having her own children. In The Core, a child would signify her end as an Advisor while in the real world, like Palimea, it signified a
weakness. “I suppose in any location, a child is sort of my demise.”

Taylon corked a brow at Lark. He had questioned many things about her and had not understood many of the things she thought, but this was the most perplexing to him. His
eyebrows stitched together and he inquired, “How would a child be your demise?”

Lark sighed, almost as frustrated and confused as Taylon was. Yet, she was more confused on how to explain why the idea of children was so unappealing to her. Now that she was in Palimea, it was expected for women to have more than one child; Lark had planned on holding off on having her heir for as long as possible.

“If I were home, or rather in The Core, if I were to give birth to an heir I would live for about ten years. These ten years would not be spent creating quality family moments. I would train my child and teach her all the secrets of the world. Once she was old enough, I wouldn’t ever come back. We don’t create attachment. For instance, I don’t even remember my mother’s name. But, it does mean that we will die,” she explained.

Although the explanation was offered, Taylon’s mind was not eased. “But, if you stay here, it wouldn’t be like that.” Lark sighed for she detested the idea of staying at home almost as much as she disliked the idea of being killed off after she had a child.

“Yes, that’s true. Instead, I’d have this ineffable relationship with a small being, whose life tangles constantly. One small little thing could shatter my world into a million pieces. Or, I’d end up staying at a home with two children in my arms, screaming and crying and never getting a moment to myself. It sounds quite miserable,” she said, ruffling her hair.

Taylon heaved a sigh for he certainly did not understand Lark at that moment. All he wanted in life was to get his own home, have his own children, have his own wife and live a completely content life near his mother and father. He didn’t understand how Lark loathed the idea of a family. However, he couldn’t really discuss it any longer with her; some things can’t be changed.

Helena entered the room then with a sweat covered and angry face. “Lark,” she said, not looking at her. “Rhiana would like to see you.” Lark looked at Taylon who smiled softly and nodded. Lark moved Tyrion’s head carefully off of her body and set it on a pillow. Taylon stood then and accompanied her as she entered the other room.

The room had been cleaned quickly, the sheets already changed and the signs of any birth was taken away from the room. Rhiana lay on the bed, cradling a small white bundle. She looked up and gave Lark and Taylon a weak smile. “Here,” she said, moving the child towards Lark. “Hold her.”

Lark raised her hands to politely refuse, but Taylon had the baby in her arms before she could even utter a word. Lark looked down at the child who couldn’t weigh more than four pounds and saw Taylon’s eyes looking back at her. She had a thick mop of curly hair that Lark knew would cause Rhiana some trouble in the future. Her skin looked was darker than Lark’s, but pale nonetheless. Her cheeks were tinted red and her little lips were the same shade. She had lavender eyelids and a thick layer of lashes, leading to a small button nose. Lark couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face.

There was something about babies that turned people into blubbering idiots and Lark was no exception. She sat down in a rocking chair across the room, remaining fixed on the being in her arms while Rhiana slowly drifted to sleep. Taylon walked over to her and sat down by her feet, resting his head against her calves. “You are the cutest thing,” Lark cooed.

“I think you would have made a great mom, if that’s any consolation,” Taylon said, closing his eyes. Lark looked down at Taylon in response to his comment because she couldn’t think of any other answer to it. Something inside her had wavered as she held onto little Melaoney and she couldn’t decide if she liked it or not.

“It is what it is, nothing can be done to change it,” she answered, mindlessly.

Taylon huffed at that and looked up at Lark. As painful as it was, Lark tore her attention away from Melaoney and looked at Taylon. “That’s not true and you know it,” he said sternly. She knew very well that something did feel right about the child in her arms, but her subconscious was screaming that this was all wrong. “You love her,” he said, teasing her.

“No, I do not.” Lark said, stubbornly. “She’s not even mine! Besides, what does it matter? I certainly can’t keep her and I don’t plan on having one of my own, so this is a moot point.” At that, she returned her attention to small and round hazel eyes that were begging for attention.

Taylon rolled his eyes. “If you say so, Advisor,” he muttered the last part. He hated when Lark spoke so high and mighty, it reminded him of where she was from. He didn’t like to think of Lark as some puppet in Zorac’s control. He liked to think of her as a graceful being that floated through trees and was a slave to a newborn baby. He liked the girl in front of him, not her title.

Lark stiffened as he spoke, but refused to play into his attempt to anger her. She knew he wanted a reaction from her and that was one thing he would not be getting. The baby had fallen asleep in Lark’s arms so she returned it to the crib, draped a blanket over it and turned to bump into Taylon’s chest.

“Let’s go for a walk,” he said.