The Nir Su Sea did not merely rage; it screamed.
Black waves, crested with foam like the teeth of wolves, hammered against the hull of the small green ship. Inside the cabin, the world was a claustrophobic box of lantern light and agony.
Gabrielle lay on the bed, her body slick with perspiration, her knuckles white as she gripped the sheets. She was a vision of exhausted beauty—smooth brown skin flushed with exertion, her striking green eyes wide with pain.
To her left stood her husband, Edward. He was a man built for war, not midwifery. His short hair was matted with sweat, his gray eyes filled with a helpless terror that no battlefield had ever elicited. He wore black knight armor, the breastplate bearing a phoenix insignia with a red gem for an eye—a symbol of a life they were leaving behind.
Between Gabrielle's legs was Carol, Edward's sister. She was slender but corded with muscle, her mercenary gear still strapped to her body, her hair tied back in severe knots. Her gray eyes, identical to her brother's, were focused and fierce.
"Is she supposed to be in so much pain, little sister?" Edward asked, his voice cracking.
"Yes, she is! Now shut up, you idiot!" Carol snapped without looking up. She turned her gaze back to Gabrielle, her voice softening instantly. "Come on, Gabby. You can do this. Only one last push."
Gabrielle threw her head back, a guttural scream tearing from her throat. "Mmmhm! After all of this, we're never having sex again, Ed! Mmmhhhh uhhh!"
She pushed with everything she had left.
And then, the world went silent.
It wasn't that the storm had stopped; it was as if reality itself had held its breath. If Edward had stepped out of the cabin, he would have seen the waves frozen in mid-crash, the lightning arrested in the sky like a jagged crack in a painting. Time had stopped everywhere except in this little wooden room.
"Yes... yes, Gabby, you did it..." Carol's voice trailed off.
The silence that followed was heavier than the storm.
Edward leaned forward, waiting for the cry. The wail of life. But there was nothing.
Carol held the infant in her hands. She shook him gently, then harder. She turned him over and spanked his bottom, desperate to provoke a reaction, a breath, anything. The baby remained limp and silent.
Gabrielle's heavy breathing hitched. She saw the look on Carol's face.
"No," Gabrielle whispered.
Carol lowered her head, reaching for a white cloth to cover the small body. Her shoulders began to shake. "I'm so sorry, Gabby."
Gabrielle buried her face in Edward's chest, a wail of pure heartbreak escaping her lips. Edward wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight against his armor, his own tears tracking through the grime on his face.
"You are not at fault, love," Edward choked out. "Maybe this was the will of the gods. If anyone is to be blamed, it is them."
As they wept, mourning the life that had ended before it began, the air in the cabin shifted. A hum, low and vibrating, emanated from the bundle in Carol's arms.
Carol gasped and pulled back the cloth.
Crimson patterns—ancient, geometric symbols that looked like texts found in the deepest, forbidden temples—were blooming across the baby's skin. They glowed with an inner light, spreading from his chest to his limbs, seeping into his flesh until they vanished, leaving no trace behind.
The moment the last symbol faded, the spell over the world broke.
BOOM.
Thunder roared, shaking the ship to its keel. The frozen waves crashed down, rocking the vessel violently. And in that chaos of noise, a new sound cut through.
A sharp, high-pitched cry.
Carol stared at the baby, who was now squirming and screaming with healthy, furious lungs. She laughed, a wet, joyful sound, and ran to the bed.
"Look, Gabby! He's alive! Why would you do that to your aunt, little fella?"
Gabrielle sat up, wiping her eyes with trembling hands. She took her son, looking at him as if he were a miracle made flesh. "Isn't he beautiful, Ed?"
Edward stood with his mouth agape, staring at the squalling infant. A smile broke across his face, radiant and relieved. He reached out, stroking the baby's cheek with a calloused finger. "Yes, he is. He is a handsome fella. Just like his old man."
Carol snorted, wiping her eyes. She opened her mouth to retort, You? Handsome? Forget it—but the look of pure gratitude Gabrielle gave her stopped the words in her throat.
"Thank you for helping us, Carrie," Gabrielle said softly. "Thank you so much."
Carol stiffened. She was a mercenary, a woman of steel and blood. Sentimentality made her itch. She grabbed a waterskin and took a long drink to hide her expression.
"Since when do we say thanks for such futile things?" Carol grumbled, wiping her mouth. "All I know is that if I was in the same situation, you would have done the same. So there's no need."
Edward burst out laughing. The tension in the room shattered. Both women shot him a look of contempt that shut him up immediately.
"Gabby is right, little sister. Thank you," Edward said, his eyes twinkling. "But I'm amused by what you said. What do you mean, 'if you were in the same shoes'? Who would get a crazy woman like you pregn—"
The steel of a dagger kissed his throat before he finished the word.
Carol smiled sweetly, the blade pressing just enough to dimple the skin. "What is that, elder brother? I didn't hear you very well. Could you please say it again?"
Edward gulped, raising his hands in surrender and backing away slowly. "Nothing. Nothing at all."
"That's what I thought." Carol sheathed the dagger in one fluid motion. She looked down at the baby, her expression softening once more. "Now... what are you going to name him?"
Edward looked at his wife and son. "Timothy. Timothy shall be his first name."
Gabrielle looked out the porthole, where the lightning flashed against the dark sea. "And since he was born in the storm... his second name shall be Mí'tûr. Son of the Storm."
"Timothy Mí'tûr," Edward tested the name. "Where to from here?"
"The Kingdom of Zebha," Gabrielle replied, holding her son close.
The storm raged on, but the little green ship sailed forward, carrying a new life toward a new beginning.