The Ferocity and Madness of Love and Life

[Kavala]

Timestamp: 20th of Spring, 511 AV
Location: Sanctuary and The Beach Below
Reason: Kavala's Birth Thread
Status: Open

She wasn't comfortable. Kavala hadn't been for most of the season and part of last. The Konti was too big, too awkward, too vulnerable. She hated the feeling. None of her clothing fit. Her shoes didn't even fit because her feet constantly swelled up if she didn't stay off of them most of the day. Long periods of time standing did her in. Long periods of walking also exhausted her. She slept in and went to bed early and hated every minute of it. Sitting in a chair was easy, heaving herself out of one seemed as difficult as climbing a peak in Kalea. Her life had changed, that much was certain, and though she knew every female in Mizahar went through what she was going through, that didn't make it any easier.

She suffered in silence though.

Kavala didn't complain. She didn't ask for help. She simply seemed to retreat from the group around her. Often she went without food since her stomach couldn't handle much, or she gorged when hunger overtook her. Her name disappeared from the meal duties list when it got to the point standing to do food preparation was too much. She often wasn't at the gatherings for meals at all either. She could tell if her stomach would let her eat by how it handled the smell of wafting odors that drifted up and accumulated in the large upper story apartment. When human food wouldn't suit, she switched to seafood - mostly raw - and that went down easier.

Kavala hadn't taken the time to get to know the others like she wanted too. She knew in the early days of spring they had paired up and quietly bonded. She'd kept herself aloof, separate, feeling like someone had to be in charge. But that hadn't been the main reason, not really. She'd withdrawn in direct proportion to how vulnerable she felt as the day came closer and the child readied itself to put in an appearance in the world. And currently, she'd felt incredibly vulnerable.

Had she been in Mura, her sisters wouldn't have let the withdrawal happen. They would have converged on her and had someone close by at all times. Konti were strange when they were birthing. Much like wild things, they tended to vanish as the climax of a pregnancy came upon them. Their odd instincts drove them to run, to hide, to give birth in secret spots sheltered from all and mostly beneath the waves. As a Konti's time came close, her madness seemed to grow. Chemicals rose in the Konti's blood that superseded intelligence with instinct and crazy things happened.

It was one of the reasons the Oathmaster generally suggested the Tavis bring their Konti charges back to the tower when their time was close. Most charges were recommended to give birth at the tower for that matter, but especially the Konti. They were secured in birthing rooms which had large tanks of salt water just for easing a Konti's fear and attendants who knew what to expect from all sorts of emotionally charged women. Humans were encouraged to be relocated to the Tower simply because it was there they had the greatest chance of survival with all the healers in attendance. And if they did not, then it was easier there to discard the body than go to someone's estate and collect it.

Kavala hadn't been relocated though. The Oathmaster would have called Hatot a fool for not seeing too it and he would have been mostly correct. For when she woke in the morning, her head was clouded with unusual thoughts. She was uneasy and her mind felt muddled with paranoia. She knew they often came to collect Nakivak near their times. Kavala expected them for some reason. Her muddled thoughts had her jumping each time a rider rode by on the road outside the facility or a wagon creaked along the traderoute. Her stomach ached and for some reason its bulk had dropped, painfully so. She'd carried her child high on her body, making her seem bigger than she was, though now the whole burden within her had changed, twisted, slumped and was putting pressure on the inside of her pelvis. It hurt, just like the rippling pain that infused her whole body - the one that woke her to unease.

The bed was too hard. She'd stumbled to the latrine to relieve herself and had managed to make it back out into the courtyard sunshine. It hurt her skin. The air hurt. She headed for the bathhouse, but halfway through filling the bath she decided the fresh water wasn't soothing and that she wanted salt. She left it, still filling itself, to head down to the sea.

After all, no one would find her there. It called to her like a siren's song beckoning her home. Ignoring everyone, even her chores, which seemed so unimportant, Kavala threaded her way through the stalls, crossed the pasture, and slipped through the fence to hit the road. She took the fork that would take her down to the beach, walking awkwardly. Kavala stopped once as pain overtook her and suddenly felt someone watching her. She glanced around wildly even as her body shuddered and just knew it was the Oathmaster's men come to retrieve her. Her eyes lifted to the bird overhead, circling, a harmless seagull, and then moved on certain it was men not animals focusing their attention on her.

Hatot told her she had control. That her son or daughter would be hers to raise. She had believed him, but what would the Oathmaster say? Once they had her locked up, they'd take her baby away sight unseen. She wouldn't even know if it was a boy or a girl or be able to count its toes and see its first smile. Her heart ached and she cried out. She wouldn't let them. No... she'd reach the sea first. More visions filled her mind, driving her forward, causing her to flee. She'd toured the tower. She'd seen the setup. Kavala had already stood in a birthing chamber and had seen the stirrups that looked more like restraints.

The konti began to shake even as she quickened her pace from a walk.

She knew what happened in the tower to those that were unwilling. Kavala would push the baby from her body and they'd take it away while she screamed to be allowed to hold it, to see its little face. They would look at her like a piece of meat. Then they'd bring someone else in, someone she didn't know, to fill her with another child before she left, perhaps even before she healed. She could hear the laughter now. Would a group be waiting in the hall, tossing dice against the wall to see who won the right? There'd be no rest. This was her life now - Akalakan Broodmare. Paranoia surged through her.

None of it was true of course. Birthings at the tower were handled with dignity and with a lot of family present surrounding both the mother and father. No one was restrained, no one was forced into anything. If someone was reluctant or nervous or worked up into the state Kavala was, they'd be given gentle drugs to relax them and make the experience seem more surreal than real. No one diced for the right to have a Nakivak. No one laughed or abused anyone because the future of their race depended upon the system as much as their pride depended on the system being dignified.

But Kavala was locked in the early stages of Konti labor. They all experienced it once or twice in their lives. And for the most part she was alone or so she thought in her head and in her life. Her father would protect her though. Shucking her clothing and leaving it in a pile on the beach, the healer continued her exodus. Kavala splashed into the water, wading out to her knees before she began swimming. Laviku's arms enfolded her, calmed her, and eased the burden of weight on her belly and back.

She sighed in relief and ducked under the water swimming. She began looking for someplace to hide - someplace secure - to birth her child there the Akalak could not follow.

[Raiha]

Raiha had spent the longer part of her life on Mura, and she was no stranger to the Konti. She was no stranger, either, to the weird ways they acted when the time of birthing crept closer and closer. It wasn’t something she knew much of – the quiet Akontak would never claim to be an expert – considering how much time she spent on the outside looking in and watching from a distance, if she watched them at all. When she had been at war with Kanikra, it had simply been too dangerous in her mind for her to risk it. She would take Kefi or Uzima out into the countryside with Mangle and go hunt. But it hadn’t been unusual for the youngster to see a swollen, laboring Konti hurrying towards the sea, escorted by others of her kind, only for them all to disappear beneath the waves. Raiha had never stuck around to see what happened… but had had the presence of mind to ask her mother about it. Tana had explained to her at the time that the Konti preferred to give birth in the water when they could. They were daughters of Laviku, and the waters of the sea were safe and welcoming. Their daughters breathed in their first breaths, their gills pulling the precious, life-sustaining air from the water and into their bodies. Tana hadn’t taken the chance of birthing in the sea, but had instead in a small pool that was deep enough for her to submerge in, but not so deep that the baby could drown quickly if it was a boy, born without the necessary gills to survive under the water.

And those thoughts had also been in Raiha’s mind increasingly as she watched and worked on a day-to-day basis. Of course, Kavala hadn’t been raised on Mura. Maybe the Drykas did something different. Maybe her upbringing and her sense of duty – which was palpable - would overwhelm the instincts of her body and blood. Raiha didn’t know. And she didn’t dare interfere - this wasn’t Mura, and Kavala’s Nakivak bracelet completely changed the rules, insofar as she knew of them. They had their council, their own laws, their own guidelines, and Kanikra had warned her away from researching it lest they take it as a sign of interest that she liked the idea for herself and decided on their bodily autonomy for them. They wouldn’t do that, surely, with their being practically children and Akontak besides, but Kanikra was not taking any chances.

She was bundled in her leathers today, good, serviceable working clothes that were going to have to be replaced sooner rather than later. She was outgrowing them, and from the constant use and wear and tear, they were thinning out. She had already taken a number of horses to the pasture to be turned out for the day, and was busy cleaning those stalls. Sometimes she waited until the end of the day to do it, sometimes she didn’t. Today she wanted to do it in the morning, because she was on dinner and dishes duty in the evening. It was a good gut feeling on her part, because she was finishing mucking the last stall when she saw Kavala walk down the stable on the way out like a woman possessed. “Good morning, Kavala,” she greeted her, sure that the Konti had just come in to look around – she wasn’t supposed to be on her feet a whole lot, and with the new life blossoming around them, Raiha had taken Asim with her on hunts to find Kavala new and fresh herbs to play with during the day to keep her mind and fingers busy. She could understand the blow of not being able to work when she was so used to it. But she had to take it easy. These were extenuating circumstances.

But her greeting got her no reply, and she figured that Kavala hadn’t heard her until she put the pitchfork against the wall and went to go see what the Konti was up to. She wasn’t disappearing back into her room, like Raiha had expected her, but she was well and truly gone. Raiha puffed her cheeks, one hand on her hip, and went to check the bathroom, finding the tub overflowing… and no sign of the pregnant woman. She cut off the water, hot enough to boil a lobster. Had she gone to the place where she always went for checkups? She drained the bathtub a bit, getting the water levels back down to manageable in the event Kavala was upstairs or on the Veranda, or something and wanted her bath. She shook her purple hand and wrapped her arm around her midsection as she went to go and see if Kavala was upstairs, tracking water after her.

Or had she, Raiha didn’t want to think about it, gone to the shore? If her mind was well and truly agitated enough, she wouldn’t be thinking of the major problem. Little blue boys with dark hair that were born to the Konti could not breathe underwater like their mother. But surely Kavala was more rational than that. Right?

Right?

She tossed her braids over her shoulders, and surveyed the whole of Sanctuary from the Veranda. No sign of her. And nothing on the road that she could see from here, at any rate. She left the Veranda, trotting down the stairs and crossing the court yard, hopping the fence, and going to look down the road, hoping that Kavala definitely hadn’t gone down to the water. And even if she had, it was too bloody cold to swim, wasn’t it?

[Kavala]

Kavala kept swimming. She pushed out, but not to far, looking for someplace warm and secure. Her stomach contracted, bringing pain, and she cried out as she searched, looking, wanting, needing a cave or an alcove in the coral where she could curl securely and let nature take its course. Nothing was quite right.

She looked along the reef, searching, poking her head in this crevasse and that cave, though nothing seemed quite fitting. Swimming on, Kavala coursed up and down parallel to the coast, urged on by her bodies desire to rid itself of the child within.

It wasn't until she stumbled, quite by accident, on an underwater lair that she found the perfect spot. It was wholly circular, almost like a womb itself. It had natural shelving that Kavala settled on, cushioned by a sea of anemones. Perfect, just perfect. The Konti, not thinking straight at all, settled in comfortably. The best part, unknowns to the healer, was the air pocket leading directly to the sky at the top of the cave. If she bore a boy, it would save his life in the end.

Fish swarmed around her, seeming to cheer her on as she curled into her misery, fighting with her body as it began the long laborious process of giving birth. To anyone searching, it wouldn't be easy to find her. And yet, if they watched the fish who were alternatively startled out of the space by the Konti's regular cries and fascinated enough to slowly wander back in, the hiding spot would be obvious.

[Raiha]

Raiha snatched up an armload of towels as she made her way past the bathroom, jogging until she was in the air and burst into a run she made her way towards the gate. She took the wagon trail leading from Sanctuary, keeping an eye on the ground, looking for prints – that was always the first lesson in hunting, even if her quarry was a runaway expectant Konti – but the ground was frozen enough that she wasn’t seeing any clues to what she needed. It was an idea abandoned quickly when she realized she wasn’t having any luck with it and it was slowing her down. Instead, she just breezed for the shore. Her gut instinct was telling her that Kavala had gone to the sea, and, well, a pregnant Konti could probably swim a lot faster than she could run.

Her long legs ate the distance up as her braids streamed behind her. This might have been faster to take Yakini, but she was not at the point where she could grab her mare, and gallop bareback down to the beach. Raiha could wander around Sanctuary or up and down the wagon trail on a leisurely ride bareback, but she was definitely not up for the gallop. That left her with her own two feet, but she couldn’t complain. All the while, her eyes searched wildly for any sign of Kavala along the shore. Her chest heaved as she sucked in the good, bracing sea air and looked over the water and the shore. The entry point could have been anywhere. But she spotted the pile of clothing that the healer had been wearing earlier, and Raiha shucked her boots, leaving them and the towels with Kavala’s clothing. She put her exposed foot into the water, sucking in another breath before stepping in and beginning to wade into the waves. She just had to suck it up and deal with it. She didn’t have time for being sluggish or hesitant because of the fact that the water was a trifle chillier than she may have liked.

As soon as she was submerged, though, the Akontak received a fresh jolt of energy from the cold water as it started going through her gills, and she had a look about her. “Shadows?” Bubbles came from Raiha’s mouth as she whispered in Makath, her eyes roving along the sand bank beneath her. “I’m looking for a Konti that came this way…” She knew better than to put all of her eggs in one basket. Sometimes the shadows weren’t interested. Sometimes they were. The tricky part was having something to offer them if they were not interested in helping out for nothing. This was where Auristics came in. As she sucked in another breath, she focused on the arcana and on her eyes, applying the djed. The sea lit itself up, as did everything else in it. Fish. Seaweed. Shadows. Sand. Stones. Shells. Sea slugs. Crabs. The auras were many, all of them dancing in and out of her focus for her to see.

As she kept looking, swimming deeper and deeper still, not sure which way to go, she looked. She listened and she kept swimming, half-hoping that she would see Kavala somewhere near here. No such luck – the Konti’s aura wasn’t showing up for her. That meant she was concealed or further away, likely and probably both, but she couldn’t give up right now. She had to keep looking. She had given up hope of getting an answer from these shadows down here, but it had been worth asking. Shadowspeaker… Who calls? She heard the answer far below her, on the sea’s floor. She made her way down to it, digging her fingers into the sand to keep from floating back upwards. Her clothes, soaking wet, helped her there as she looked at the shadow, lurking along the sea floor to a long piece of kelp, dancing and waving its hypnotic tendrils.

“My name is Raiha,” she spoke up, smiling as she lowered her body to lay herself on the sea floor, watching the shadow as it undulated in time with the kelp.

Shadowspeaker that comes from under the waves…?

“I am not from the water, no. I live on the land above, out of the water,” she explained patiently, her eyes wide as she watched it coil, flitting here and there. She may have been in a hurry, but she didn’t rush shadows. Especially if, if this could pay off. One never knew.

Shadowspeaker from the land. Why do you come here?

“I’m looking for my friend who may have passed this way. A Konti, a pale woman, all white, like my hair. That colour?” Raiha reached for one of her braids, pulling on it. “Have you seen her, may I ask?”

White woman… The shadow took a look time as she watched and waited. Yes. She came this way.

“Thank you, thank you,” Raiha bubbled at it. “Is there anything I can do for you?” The inquiry was met with silence. She saw a stream of fish coming, swimming with the current that was pushing at her, even as she held herself anchored to the floor. She did not have long to wait before it made its cryptic request.

The wind. The sky. Surely.

Raiha puzzled it out for a moment before realizing. “You want to see the surface?”

Surface, the shadow repeated. Yes. The surface.

She brightened. “Come with me, follow me. We’ll find my friend, and then we will go to the surface,” she offered, smiling, lifting her hands from the sand, and swimming over the kelp, hovering there until she felt the shadow attaching itself to her. “Let’s go.” She gave her legs a kick, and guided herself towards the current, and followed it. The shadow had said this way. This way would work. It was along the current that she began by checking each hiding hole as she found them, listening, watching, her eyes searching the auras contained therein. She did not intervene with the shadows as her new companion inquired on her behalf, introducing the Shadowspeaker and explaining what they looked for. But something caught her eye. A rainbow stream of auras, of fish, she realized, of all shapes and sizes and colours, emerged from one particular entrance, only to slowly come back inside. Raiha brightened, and thanked the shadows before hurrying for it, parting past the fish, their scaly sides brushing against her as she moved past them. She saw the aura that brought relief to her heart and mind.

“Kavala,” she swam towards her, approaching a little more slowly now, not entirely certain if she would be a target should Kavala lash out. She stopped and scoured the cove, noting the air pocket of light at the top. Oh, good. That meant she wasn’t going to be dragging the labouring Konti up closer to the surface. Labour was already stressful, and doing something like that would certainly not bode well for the culmination of it, for Kavala’s mental health, or her physical health, either. But that pocket… It would be big enough for them to pass through, should the infant be Akalak. If the infant was Konti… then it still provided a pretty view and an easy exit. “It’s just us. Calm. Calm,” she spoke to her friend in Kontinese, the singing bubbles leaving her mouth and gills. “Relax, yes? You must relax. Flow,” she reached out to touch Kavala’s hand and squeezed her fingers gently. “Swim with me? The motion will help bring the baby down.”

[Kavala]

She was lost to the surface - on the surface - out in the air beneath the sky. She wanted to be washed away, submerged, and washed clean of the taint of the world above the ocean's depth. The world she found herself was not her own, but one she wanted to desperately be a part of. The ocean was a sanctuary that was indescribably beautiful to her - someone born on the Sea of Grass. She'd never had its comfort as a child and knew inherently that she'd been robbed of something very special she should have been a part of. So instinct drove her home and drove her beneath the waves where suddenly she felt sheltered and held tightly in the arms of her father.

Kavala swam, sought, and finally settled. And like all of her people, cushioned beneath the sea and buoyed up by the visceral salt water, the discomfort eased. The sharp shooting pains did not completely go away, but her existence seem to rise to a new level as her body pushed and shoved the child within her gently positioning it for its arrival. Perhaps it was the peaceful underwater hall that she took up temporary residence in, or perhaps it was the Akontak’s hand that reached out to take her own – whatever the cause, Kavala settled and began smoothly swimming in slow easy circles. Her contractions became steady, strong, and held her in thrall as her fingers linked with Raiha’s. She glanced over, caught Raiha’s golden gaze, and smiled glad to be joined by a friend whom she knew would be a decent midwife. Somewhere deep inside her she acutely missed Hatot and Radris’ presence in her life. Sure, he’d been about more, but their closeness was gone, so too was the intimacy. Once, she would have lived for him and made him her whole life. But now she realized acutely that there was no one truthfully out there who was solid, steady, and reliable. The only person she could count on was herself.

That train of thinking almost generated another flight, but Raiha’s strong grip kept her afloat and swimming in the pattern that seemed to ease her strain the most. And as her mind eased and she let her spirit drift upwards a vision seemed to reach out and fill her mind. Kavala had never had one, not as other Konti did. Part of her blamed the fact that she grew up Drykas and not in the vision-water infused lands of Konti Island. She was blind where the rest of her sister’s could see – past and future had no meaning for her since living in the now was all she had.

But this vision hit her hard and she gasped under it, forgetting all about her heavy contractions, loneliness, or the strange steady pain that took her. She gripped Raiha’s hand tighter, cried out, and felt ‘pulled’ into someplace else. Raiha stood beside her, sharing the vision – linked by touch – as a world neither of them had seen before unfolded. To Kavala, it was a strange place, an alien environment. But Raiha recognized it immediately, both instinctually and because her own mother had told her.

Valkalah.

The city unfolded before them, spread out, and was suddenly filled with sights and sounds. The Akalak were everywhere, but so too were others. Children’s laughter ran through the city as crowds of them flocked the street, running to their lessons and sent on this or that sort of errand. It was morning. The city was just awakening, and Kavala stood in the street hand and hand with Raiha. None of her kind were around, and there were no signs of female Akalak just as the stories said there had been none in ancient times. But as Kavala swiveled her gaze to study her friend, then turned around in confusion to study the city, she saw it with new eyes. Lacking – blessed but lacking. Raiha was an Akontak, something special, something rare. Kavala’s eyes could see something then, in that instance, of how perfect Raiha was. She was the blending, and a powerful one at that, of two races that were never meant to have such gaps in their nature. And as she stood there, staring at the sunrise over Valkalah’s streets knowing it would all be gone soon, tears filled her eyes at the knowledge and at how somehow necessary its destruction had been in order to restart, rebalance, and create something new and something more perfected.

Raiha saw all Kavala saw, though if she came to the revelations Kavala, that still remained to be seen. Raiha’s mother had seen the same thing when birthing her Akontak child. Valkalah. Something had began and ended there, something secret and important. And later, when Raiha was older, she’d told her. The vision was not uncommon. In fact, it as more uncommon for a Konti birthing an Akalak’s son to not see Valkalah than to see the lost city..

No one knew why.

And as in all visions, the scene faded quickly, replaced by something else unexpected. Kavala felt another hand take hers, and yet another hand on that hand, and another hand touch her, then another and then another. She twisted, looking all around, and saw Raiha’s face get lost in a sea of other races. Konti and Akontak alike surrounded her, ghostly, touching her, encouraging her as their warm hands brushed her stomach, shoulders, neck, legs, arms. It was the women of her family, of her line, come back to assist a birth of one of their own. Kavala groaned as their combined touch, even Raiha’s, bled a new kind of power into her. It filled her, easing the madness and pain completely. She never screamed, never fought, never even broke one of Raiha’s fingers because Ay’aka was there, and even Tamar. Their mothers and grandmothers and hence Kavala’s relatives all joined her in spirit, surrounding her, welcoming the new child with ghostly approval. There were others there too, folks she did not know, women from Hatot and Radris’ line, his mother, his grandmother… welcoming a new child. Women all of them, come to comfort and ease the loneliness so the child knew only love and welcome when it came into the world.

Kavala reached out to them, spoke, welcoming them. She said one small thing. ”Help me.” and they did. It was as simple as that. The women did, and Raiha witnessed it completely, where her hands were busy, other ghostly hands took up the slack. The two women were not alone, not in that moment, and Raiha remembered her on mother’s words about Konti and births. Help always comes. Always. Her own mother had help just as Kavala did. And any daughters Kavala would have would find the same treatment.

And come into the world it did. With one hard push, Kavala still swimming, a cloud of bloody water surrounded her suddenly as she paused in the water, arched her pelvis, opened herself, and slipped the squirming form free. The ghostly figures, either real or imagined, retreated then with grins of delight and welcome on their face, leaving Raiha to get to work as Kavala hung motionless in the water, stunned, gasping through her gills as the little creature still tethered to her body bobbed up and down in the water screaming through gills she never expected it to have.. Dark blue skin was all she could see and a shock of white hair. She assumed boy, but then wasn’t so sure because the white hair told her the infant was more Raiha’s kind than either Kavala’s or Hatot’s.

Had she been alone, she would have gathered the infant and surfaced, then set to work cutting the cord and expelling the afterbirth. Instead, with Raiha there, she hung motionless in the water, gasping much like the child was, and began to push again, working on expelling the rest of the foreign material in her womb. As quick as the child came and as easily the afterbirth slipped free, severing the tether between Kavala and the infant. She cried out then, immediately, the moment her ties with the child she’d been housing were broken physically. That was then, in an instant, that she reached out wanting the child, wanting it against her heart, at her breast, her body folded completely and comfortably around the new arrival.

She was still far gone, lost in the thrall of birthing, not thinking, not expecting danger. But Raiha knew birth drew predators and they were not off the coast of Mura where all the threats to Konti mothers had been virtually eliminated by Konti hunters. Their underwater hall was engulfed in a cloud of birthing fluid and blood – blood that would draw things they didn’t need to face.

Kavala still floated, hanging stunned, her body feeling empty and purposeless for the moment even as she reached out her arms to take the child from Raiha and hold it against her.

Boy. She saw immediately and as her eyes took in the shock of white hair, the gills, and the run of fine dark blue scales on his body, Kavala looked at Raiha, her tears invisible in the sea, and said simply…

“His name is Tasival.” Kavala said simply, worriedly. Tasi had exhausted her, even though is birth was quick. And so she hung motionless in the water as the blood slowly drifted away, carried by the current out into the Suvan Sea.

[Raiha]

Raiha had been more than relieved to find her friend, and was even more so when Kavala had taken her hand and they had begun to swim together. The movement, she knew, was good. And if, some ten, fifteen years down the road Raiha decided she was interested in children, then she had no doubt that Kavala would be here in the water with her, holding her hands while they swam to encourage the contractions to push the infant out. There was no current here for them to strain against, but as they went around in circles, they created their own, leaving a circle of bubbles and some of the smaller fish trailing in their wake as the shadows wrapped around them. The Akontak made sure that Kavala stayed on the inner circle as they swam, not wanting her to bash herself or get jolted out of the rhythm that they had established to coax the infant to move further and further down on its way out.

While her eyes occasionally flicked around the cave, just to set up her own internal guidelines on how close and how far they could get to the rocky, coral-covered walls and to check her pathing, but for the most part, she focused on Kavala – she was not one of the pale women, not one with so much natural empathy that it oozed from her skin – but she believed that her friend could feel the calming, soothing thoughts that Raiha sent her way, urging her to breathe, to stay steady, to stay calm. To focus on herself and her body, on the baby that was working its way out. Just shut out everything else. What was outside right now didn’t matter, and she ignored that reminder in her head from Kanikra that everything else did matter. While this was true, Raiha just didn’t want Kavala to think about it right now.

And then, with that clenching grip, as if that itself was the catalyst for the vision that they were now seeing, they were transported from the sea. Valkalah. It took her breath away to look at it, still holding Kavala’s hand, afraid that the vision would stop if she let go. She stared in wonder, her grip tightening on the Konti’s hand. For all that Kanikra despised the Konti’s relevance in their lives, for their usually softer natures, she had begun to understand just how necessary it was in how they went about their daily lives. The twin souls of the Akontak, and of the Akalak themselves, were two sides of the same coin… and it had only taken 23 years and divine intervention for them to truly understand that. But here, seeing it… This really reinforced the lesson, their need to work together, to be a whole that was greater than the sum of its parts.

But as soon as the vision was there, it was gone again, even as she squeezed Kavala’s hand even more. An ending and a beginning was there in front of them. Valkalah was but one chapter in their never-ending story. But it seemed that almost as soon as the vision was there, it was gone again, even as she squeezed Kavala’s hand even more, hoping to try to keep them in it, somehow, though part of her knew that she may never see it again. But there was no time to ruminate on that now - it was the child’s time now. The end of the vision brought about ghosts of women that Raiha had never seen before, had never met, but her gut told her that unlike the last ghost she had come across, these ones, if they were even ghosts, meant no harm. Brushing against them didn’t hurt her, and somehow, she wasn’t sure that these smiling, pleased women who came without being summoned were not apparitions. But either way, she was grateful for their presence and assistance, and honored by their arrival.

While this was Raiha’s first time acting as midwife, she went with it. Her instincts told her to make sure they kept swimming, because the movements worked the muscles of the body that pushed the baby lower and lower until it finally came free. At the first sign of blue skin, Raiha had been ready to cut the cord and rush it through the air hole to the surface, but the burbling screams through the gills and the white hair made her smile up at Kavala, having released her hands with a final squeeze to gather the infant from where it hung in the water, using her knife to cut the umbilical cord and knot it close to the baby’s belly, checking him over once that was done, and the remains of the afterbirth were pulled out. Once it was loose, her dagger went back into its sheath. She shushed the squalling child, fluffing his pale hair, and passed him to Kavala as soon as she reached for him, her mind already whirling through the implications. An Akontak. Sickly children, if they lived. She had faith in the healers of Riverfall, but it wasn't the Opal Order... Further, with this birth, especially with this birth, Kavala would never be free now, and who knew what, or if, they might try with Akela? If one sister had... “I thank you,” she told the spectral attendants, lowering her head in respect, her gold eyes bright.

“We need to go,” Raiha told Kavala, reaching with long arms for mother and son, mindful of the way she wrapped her arms about the two and started for the air hole. It would do for a shortcut. “We cannot linger here, not now. Predators will be forthcoming, drawn by the blood. They’ll like it.” They broke the surface, and Raiha lifted and pushed them out first before boosting herself up onto the rock and resting for a moment as she put her hands over her eyes, looking for the shore, looking to see how far they had come from it. Not too bad. A good swim, but she could pull Kavala along, and stay near the surface instead of in the deeps. Neither was bloody or bleeding any more, but with luck… They would be in the clear. When Kavala was ready – though the Akontak didn’t allow her much time to rest – she started the haul back to the shore, one arm around Kavala’s midsection, kicking with her legs and using her free arm for additional pulling, letting the new mother rest and reserve her strength for what was going to be a bit of a walk back. But once they got to the shore, they could rest.

Just had to get to the shore.

[Kavala]

Kavala had no energy as Raiha thanked the attendants. She simply floated in the water, as if stunned, clutching her infant to her. Fortunately the boy hand gills otherwise he'd be ill suited for the nature of his birth and how deep they actually were.

When Raiha said it was time to go, Kavala nodded, and allowed the larger woman to tow her towards the surface. The Konti knew that Raiha was right, but she was so exhausted she followed blindly as best she could. There were still all sorts of feelings in her about wanting to run, about the Akalak potentially taking her child, about being abandoned and leaving first before that happened - but right now she was so tired and the child in her arms so perfect she couldn't remotely think of running far. Her arms kept the child safe, close to her, his lips seeking nourishment and feasting off the bounty of her body. She paid little attention to Raiha, though the woman's presence most likely saved her life. Instead she took her rest on the rock for a the brief two chimes Raiha lingered to study the mass shock of white hair that surrounded her baby's head. He was definitely male and already his little fists had captured locks of Kavala's head as he determinedly nursed at her breast. The sensation was like nothing she'd ever felt before. There was a fierceness in her, a longing to protect and an urge to count fingers, toes, and look into his eyes which he hadn't opened yet. Not once.

Kavala glanced at Raiha and slowly the truth dawned on her. Her son was like the Akontak who guided her, protected her, and saw too it that she didn't stray too far.

"He's... not an Akalak." She said softly, steadily, seemingly surprised as if this somehow betrayed what her mind had been thinking all along. "What does that mean, Raiha? Will they come for him sooner? Does that mean hes not one of them and I haven't fulfilled my obligation?" She asked, scared suddenly, the panic rising in her again. She was about to turn, to slip back into the water, when Raiha started dragging her the opposite way. They fell off the stones together and Raiha's powerful strokes took her inland away from where Kavala felt safe.

The Konti was obviously exhausted, not thinking straight, and scared. But she was no burden to Raiha and didn't seem to fight because her arms were full of the boy child who didn't seem to mind the water sluicing by his face. All three of them could breathe underwater and did so, Raiha keeping them near the surface but decidedly out of sight.

When she dragged the mother and son up on the sand, Kavala had no legs to stand. She collapsed still in the seafoam and lay part in the water part out while for the first time her son was forced to release her breast and use his new lungs. The wail of an infant could then be heard, which grew louder and louder as he protested this added effort which may very well have been painful for his first two or three breaths.

Kavala tried to sooth him but had no idea how. Babies were alien creatures to her and so even their softly whispered words weren't easing the wailing that was obviously pain - both at the air now for the first time inflating his lungs and the stump that used to attach him to Kavala bleeding freely.

[Raiha]

Raiha didn't have an answer to those questions right then. Oh, she thought she might have - but she wanted to think on them while they swam. This was good exercise for her, and she didn't mind it at all. If she ever got around to having children in ten years or more, Kavala would likely be there to help her. Only once they collapsed on the shore together did Raiha settle on her knees in the surf, removing one of the rawhide cords she used to tie her braids with from her hair and tied it tightly around the base of the bloody stump. Wet as the rawhide was, when it dried, it would shrink and tighten still more. It was as good a use for it as any, as far as she was concerned. She had more. She’d replace it.

“Shh, shh, shh, shh, shhhhhh,” Raiha told the baby. From here, though, she could see where they’d left their belongings. Satisfied that Kavala wasn’t going to go anywhere, Raiha got up. “I’ll be right back. I can see our things – I’m going to go get them, okay? You’re both safe here, you and Tasival both,” she touched Kavala’s bare shoulder, squeezing gently to assure her that she wasn’t abandoning or deserting her. She trotted the first few steps, then broke into a long-legged run, eating up the sandy ground as she ran, trailed by the shadow that had followed her from the water. “This is the surface,” she told it.

Waves without water.

“The wind,” Raiha smiled, breathing in the cool, fresh air of spring. “The wind, the sky…” she gathered up the bundles – using her own tunic to keep the towels and Kavala’s things dry, carrying everything back to where she had left the Konti, and she settled down beside her, putting their things out of reach of the gently-lapping waves, shaking a towel clear of sand and draping it around Kavala before taking the smaller one so that Kavala could cocoon her youngling in the swathing to protect his skin from the chill that came off of the water. If the Konti was willing, Raiha would help her with it.

Little blue shadowplayer?

“Not yet,” Raiha told the shadow in their shared tongue. “Maybe one day. For now, it is too soon to know. Little blue ones with white hair are called Akontak. I am one, so is the newborn.” She returned her speech Common for Kavala. “He is not Akalak. But he is Akontak. He is special. He is rare, Kavala. I can’t speak for the Council. I don’t know how they work or think. If I was in their position, a bunch of older blue men concerned primarily for my race’s survival, I would not release you from your duties as a Nakivak, for differing reasons. First, because the child is not Akalak, but a holy blend of Akalak and Konti. Akontak are prized by both. They may think that because you and Hatot produced one, you will produce another if they continue to pair the two of you. Or maybe they will try with another male, and see what happens. They may want Akela, to try to trap her into Nakivak status as well. If one sister can, why not the other?” She knew her words were not likely to help Kavala’s fragile state of mind, as soft and quiet as her voice was. “But on the other hand, you have birthed a child beyond whatever expectations they could have had. That may be enough. I hope it will be.”

She didn’t want to tell Kavala that her mother had always suspected that if her father knew the truth about his daughter, they would have come for her, by force or however necessary, to take her back to Riverfall to be raised. That would not help, at all, and could even send Kavala on the run, which, all things considered, was not a good thing. Not now, and certainly not with the manacle on her wrist. “But you have friends here. Hatot will speak for you, I’m sure. And I… I doubt if they would listen to me. But I would, too.” She placed a long arm around Kavala’s shoulders and pulled her close, resting her head against her friend’s. Perhaps a prayer, and several of them, to Oriana would help. She wouldn't approve of a child being rent from its mother, after all. “It will work out,” she looked out over the water. “One way or another, it will work out.”

[Kavala]

Kavala was a good healer. She'd attended births, both human and animal. She never lost her head. It was something she always prided herself in - that strength that had only gotten stronger since her capture and subsequent transfer here. But this... was a lot to take in. There were chemicals inside her she had no knowledge of that were driving her to flight, to fight, to protect her own and to stay hidden and stay safe. If she were back on Mura, she'd have been swarmed with sisters and mothers and daughters that would have known just what to do and how to do it to comfort the Konti and keep her safe during the vulnerability of her birthing ordeal. But Kavala was in Riverfall where none here understood anything of her nature, of her race, even if she so thoroughly rejected it for her Drykas heritage.

But she had Raiha, who'd been raised on Mura and had seen it time and time again. Though only a teen, Raiha was so much better than no one at all, and without the girl's presence there was a likelyhood that Kavala would have ran and kept running. And even a newborn Akontak, fresh into the world, was vulnerable and needed protecting of a sort that a new mother might not be able to offer until her own instincts and drives eased.

Kavala sat on the beach lost. She let Raiha hug her and then stared down into the white eyes of the child that would be by her side for as long as the council would let him. Long wet hair tangled down her shoulders, mixed with sand, and blended perfectly into the shock of white hair topping the infants head. His skin, though, something was wrong with. Bumps covered him that Kavala wasn't used to seeing - goosebumps from the shock of her warm womb to the coldness of the sea and to the icy wind of the beach. It was spring but it was in no way considered warm. And here he was, wet, naked, and out in the elements.

A small part of her mind recognized this even as Raiha left. She curled around him, her own body suddenly feeling the cold as well as she began to shake. She rose as Raiha spoke, glancing at the road leading up to Sanctuary. "It's cold here. Too cold for him." She kept her words short. Her thoughts were too racing for more than that. Kavala added that she didn't want them found on the beach either, but as Raiha's words hit here, she shook her head.

"I know. I'm sorry. Its all a bit.. hes beautiful. I just didn't expect him. I thought he would be a boy... I knew.. but Akontak... Hatot will... I... I don't know what Hatot will think. He's not here. He is never here anymore. Raiha I hate this.... this bound life. He should have love, both parents should love him, but yet they'll make me whore for the next one who wants me in hopes of another like him. How can I love something and hate it all at the same time?" Kavala asked, glancing at the child in her arms and holding him tightly. He'd have the best mothering she could give him and teach him early that his dark half was equal and had value so both her sons, even though they had only one body, would grow up whole and strong.

"Don't they see how they weaken themselves? Can't they even love? They only know love when they are spilling their seed into our bodies Raiha, that's it... don't ever let one trap you. See me. See what this is and understand it. I know why they are doing it, but they need so much more love than they get when they are small. I won't let them take Tasi and his brother. I won't let them ruin my sons like they've ruined themselves." Kavala walked on, her steps staggered. Raiha could tell Kavala hardly noticed. The Konti stumbled a few times, almost going down, but refusing to give up the child or rest. Her gaze kept flicking up the beach to the road and onto Sanctuary perched above. It was a hell of a long walk for someone who just gave birth.

She was also bleeding, and the blood coated her thighs probably from damages Kavala could easily heal if she were in her right mind. Had they been on the grass the scent of the birth would have carried and brought predators much like it would have in the sea. But here, on that narrow between of sand, where the land touched the sea, Kavala was relatively safe.

She walked beside Raiha, not noticing the girl talked to shadows and they in turn answered. Instead, her eyes dropped to her son and where Raiha had tied off the leather. A wound... there was something there, something in his cries that caused Kavala to pause and lay her hands on the child in a way that wasn't motherly but more holy. Light flared from the twined winged serpents on her ankles and poured from her hands easing his stinging umbilical pain and the ache of bruises from being pushed through his mother's body to the outside world.

Kavala looked up, met Raiha's eyes, and shivered. "I forgot that I could do that..." She said softly, coming just a step back into herself. She was still a long ways gone, but not getting further away now. Signs were that she as ready to return, to go home in more ways than their physical movement towards Sanctuary.

[Raiha]

Once they had the baby bundled, Raiha made sure that she got Kavala wrapped up, even if it was in her own tunic. The garment, which was certainly big enough on the Akontak, fairly swam on Kavala. But it allowed her to keep her arms around Tasival, and as far as Raiha was concerned, it was warm. She didn’t care so much or the cooler temperatures, truly told, but she was getting used to them, but her tunics were good and thick and made of wool, so that helped, at least. She listened, though, as Kavala spoke, was didn’t seem inclined to interrupt her as words burst from her friend, just listened in that quiet way of hers.

“Your bond with Rak’keli is stronger than mine. You can fix what I cannot… Including your own tearing,” she told her friend gently, nudging her towards that idea. “But you will love your son,” her voice was quiet, soothing, but surprisingly firm on that point. She sought to bring Kavala out of that agitated mindset that was consuming her right now – what she needed was to rest. And they had a hell of a walk to go. Why hadn’t she brought Yakini? It didn’t matter. She could carry her. It would be a good workout. "You will love him because he is part of you. He is yours, in every way that matters, Kavala. He will only represent that, define it, if you allow it to define him."

Are you serious? Kanikra was not amused. She had been quiet throughout all of this – perhaps, Raiha hoped, stunned and awed by the vision of Valkalah that they had seen. That, of course, was asking too much.

Quite so, Raiha was firm on this. She is my friend, and, Gods forbid that we are stupid enough not to bring a horse to the beach if we ever actually decide to have a child; she would probably bring the wagon. She is not walking the entire road back to Sanctuary. So if you have problems with it, for once, stuff it!

My baby sister is growing up, Kanikra pretended to sniffle. I’m so proud.

“They feel that loving is a weakness,” her voice was mild. She didn’t judge, couldn’t judge. She understood why, maybe, they shied away from it, if only from losing Akasha and Laeraix. It still hurt when she thought about them, if she let it, and so she simply avoided it for now. “Love means giving up something inside of you… something monumental… like a part of your soul. It means relying on the unpredictable… but above all… I think that they feel that it is better to never to have loved than to wake and reach for hands that are not there. Like the Konti… they have long lifespans, more so than many of the other races you find here, certainly longer than humans or what-have-you… and they avoid heartbreak by never offering their heart to another to hold.” She bundled the spare clothes – she wasn’t going to worry about the rest of Kavala’s garments for now – she didn’t think she could get her friend into them.

“It’s a philosophical question. Is it better to have loved than never loved at all? Better to have dreamed than never taken the fall? Better to have loved and let them in, than never to have touched their skin? Is it better to have hurt, and screamed, and cried… fall into the earth for a trip to the sky? They don’t know. Perhaps they don’t want to know.” She didn’t know how she felt about it. “You bare your soul, and you dared to go… knowing one day they might let you down. That takes courage of the heart.” She smiled faintly. “Neither Kanikra nor I have any plans to let it happen. Now or in the future. We are too fond of our bodily autonomy to do so. And as far as they are concerned, I am still a child.” That was the first time Raiha had given Kavala any definite clues as to her own age – just like with the Konti, it was hard to know with the Akontak, but Raiha certainly didn’t expect it to matter. More important things had transpired today, and she half-expected her friend to forget all about it. Besides, her father would probably have a stroke of paralysis about it.

No, any plans on baby Akontaks from Raiha were going to be a very long ways away.

“It’s going to be a long walk,” Raiha was quiet as she stopped Kavala once the shorter woman staggered again. “Hold on.” She unfolded Kav’s trousers and put them on the ground, crouching beside her so that Kav had something to lean against. She padded them with one of the smaller towels, and coaxed Kavala to step into the pants, and got them up. “There.” She went around to the front again, and crouched in front of her, and got her long arms around Kav’s knees, only to hoist her up in one smooth go onto her back, taking care not to jostle her and Tasi, or squish the baby. “There,” she repeated herself cheerfully as she started up the path. “Next stop, Sanctuary.”