A Calm Night

Only one light still burned in the village.

Inside the house, moans of agony rose and fell without pause. A woman drenched in sweat thrashed hysterically on the bed. Beside her, a man paced restlessly, beads of sweat tracing his forehead. He flinched as he watched her writhe in pain. His lips parted—words forming—then he shook his head and swallowed them back.

Her cries tore at his heart like knives. But he could do nothing.

They were of the Eternal Clan. An ageless race. They never grew old.

Yet childbirth brought Eternal Clan women a hundred times more suffering—and danger—than mortal women. Every woman of their kind endured this trial. It was why their race could never flourish. He admitted it: he was a failure of a husband.

Hands clasped, he prayed silently: *Aida, you must succeed!*

Finally, the moans ceased. In their place rose an infant’s wail—sharp as a blade, piercing the dark sky and shattering the village’s silence.

The twins’ cries jolted the sleeping village awake. Lights flickered on in hundreds of homes. Doors opened. People spilled into the streets.

To welcome two new lives.

Tears streamed down the man’s flushed face. He stared at the two tiny figures brought to him.

Twins!

A wild laugh burst from him. “Look, Aida—a pair! You did it!”

The woman on the bed lay motionless, eyes shut tight, lips tinged purple. No reply came.

His smile froze. Worry twisted his features. “Aida? What’s wrong?”

Silence. Not even a whimper. Only deathly stillness.

Panic seized him. He shook her shoulders, shouting, “Aida! Answer me! What’s happening?!”

Her body remained limp. The infants’ cries drowned out his shouts.

“Aida… what’s wrong?” he muttered, voice cracking.

Then he understood. His trembling hand reached slowly toward her nose.

Aida had stopped breathing. Her face was serene. As two new lives began, one vibrant life slipped away.

He buried his face in his hands and wept. All traces of joy vanished, swallowed by endless grief. He ignored the two infants staring helplessly from the bed, sobbing like a lost child.

His weeping and the babies’ cries tangled together—a raw, wordless dirge for the woman gone.

He had gained children. He had lost his wife.

From that moment, this was no longer a whole family.

*Thud. Thud. Thud.*

The door rattled under heavy knocks.

The man wiped his swollen eyes and dragged himself to the door. He yanked it open.

“Jason! Congratulations—” An elderly man shuffled in, his gaunt frame leaning on a cane. Then he saw Jason’s tear-streaked face, a glistening drop clinging to his lashes. “Fool!” the elder snapped. “Why weep on such a blessed day? It’s a bad omen!”

“Chief… Aida she—”

“She what? Spit it out!”

“She’s… dead.”

The words struck like lightning. The chief’s legs gave way. He collapsed to his knees, eyes wide and bloodshot, gripping his cane as if it could anchor him. “What did you say?”

“Aida is dead,” Jason repeated, hollow.

“Aida… gods above!” The chief crumpled fully to the floor. “She was all I had left!”

“And she was all I had too, Chief,” Jason whispered.

Aida was the old man’s only daughter.

“Take me inside!” the chief snarled, teeth bared. “I’ll kill those two monsters who murdered my girl!” He forced himself upright, trembling. This elder was the last necromancer of their bloodline—a sorcerer who once experimented with the dead to forge the immortality now coursing through his veins. He’d always treated life as worthless… except for his daughter. After his wife’s death, he’d cherished Aida more than his own existence.

Now she was gone. Sacrificed for two wretched infants.

If she was gone, those creatures had no right to live. Let them join her in the grave.

Hatred drowned out all joy of new life.

“Take me! Now!” the chief roared, lurching forward.

Gasps erupted outside. The doorway was packed with villagers.

“Chief, no!”

“Please, think this through!”

“The deed is done—let it rest!”

Several men grabbed the chief’s arms, shooting desperate looks at Jason.

Jason hesitated, then stepped forward—calmer than the raging elder. “Chief… please. These lives cost Aida everything.”

The chief stiffened. Then he bellowed, voice raw with age and fury: “Get off me! I’ll kill them both!”

When pleading failed, the villagers hauled him away. Jason sank to his knees inside the doorway and kowtowed three times to the screaming elder.

They dragged the chief into the night.

Jason closed the door slowly, shutting out the chaos. A bitter smile touched his lips. He trudged back to the bed and collapsed onto it.

The twins had stopped crying. They stared with wide, curious brown eyes—at the noisy crowd beyond the door, then at the pale man beside them.

A rare, fragile smile flickered across his face. He turned his head and let out a soft, broken laugh.

The infants sucked their tiny fingers, blinking at each other, utterly unaware how close they’d come to death moments before.