Sweet Face

....

~*~*~*~

A baleful knell echoed outside the window. Laughter broke free from a flock of crows. Their caws were high, mocking, as they took to the sky. In a fleeting moment they had gone, but loud peels of laughing calls remained. The day was waning.

Marina’s dark face was paler than usual, her nightshirt drenched with sweat. She shook violently, her black hair pouring about her face, sticking to her neck and forehead, thick with grease. Her hands trembled as she lifted them toward the nurse. The sun hung low in the sky, peering above the Ridge like a copper penny. Clouds glowed gold and orange in the setting sunlight.

The nurse was holding a bundle in her arms, though there was no sound aside from the mocking laughter from the crows. The nurse had bound her wings close, and she wore a mask over her mouth and nose. A doctor stood at the washing basin, cleaning his arms and hands of blood. His wings were loose now, their tawny feathers rustling in a slight breeze from the open window.

“Let me see my child,” Marina begged, her voice hoarse from screaming. No pain relief; a natural birth. As her first childbirth, this had been painful, unbearable. Screaming was all she could have done to loose the agony from her bones and body. “Please.” Her voice was weak, and she whimpered like a child. Her upper lip trembled. Sweat rolled down her temples, her cheeks, her chin and neck.

“I’m sorry, Madame,” said the nurse, and she set the bundle down in a waiting stroller. “She…did not survive. We weren’t fast enough.”

Marina’s eyes grew cloudy with tears. Her hands shook violently, reaching to hold the baby against her. “Please,” she whispered. “Just once. I want to see her.”

The nurse turned to the doctor. He was drying his arms. After a moment he nodded, and then turned away.

“Please, Madame, don’t…”

“I want to see her!” Marina snapped. Any and all energy she had left exhumed her body with that sentence. Authority was hers to wield; this nurse had no choice but to obey.

Resigned to silence, the nurse lifted the bundle again and held it toward Marina. Marina took the baby into her arms and pressed the dead infant to her bosom. She pushed aside the blanket which had been wrapped around the tiny corpse.

Fresh tears welled in her eyes. The child was grey. Tiny wing bones stuck haphazardly from her back and sides, small feathers sticking to them where muscle and skin had grown. Marina ran her fingers delicately along the baby’s face. Tears rolled from her chin onto the bundled body.

“Leave me alone,” Marina whispered.

“Madame, please, let us take her. We can have a proper funeral set up.”

“Leave,” Marina said again, but there was no power in her voice, no authority, just bitter mourning. “Please.”

The doctor and nurse exchanged glances and left the room, the nurse untying her wings as she walked. They fluttered free of the bonds and she stretched them. The door closed softly behind the two.

Marina buried her face into the child’s blanket and sobbed bitterly. Every throbbing beat of her heart sent a fresh wave of pain through her tired body. Snot rubbed from her nose onto the blanket, smeared with fresh tears.

~*~*~*~

Marina and the baby.... Not nearly done, but I want to give this new style more practice before I go and use it on the one with Clei and Eti.

Marina and all characters (c) K. M. aka Efirnda McDannak