A Mother's Purpose

[Jtit 228]

 

Amandine Komnenos rests in a private room of the clinic, beads of sweat dampen her forehead, her breath is heavy with exhaustion. Her body is tired and near limp, except for those arms of hers that held a newborn baby so closely to her chest.  

 

The arrival of her daughter was meant to be a joyous occasion in which she’d share with her husband. Though something plagues her mind and hinders the happiness she should be feeling.

 

What would they look like? What would I name them? 

 

Amandine’s mind races with what almost was. As she’d adore the sight of her daughter sleeping so peacefully within her arms, her mind is torn between gratitude and grief. 

 

She recalls the memory that had changed the temper of what could’ve… what should’ve been one of her most merry experiences: 

 

A usual shift within The Savoyard Smirk, the tavern within Providence that she had been employed for so many years.  

 

Amandine partook in casual conversation amongst the patrons she served. 

 

It was a regular day. That mother recalled within her grief as the story continues in her mind. 

 

 There wasn’t a singular sign of creeping havoc, not a hint of danger in the air - until it was already happening that is. 

 

Several men - Amandine couldn’t recall how many, it all happened so fast - charged the tavern. They terrorized and abused the customers, taking each possession they’d carry and in some, even their life.  

 

This happened right before her eyes, she watched the brutal beating of a man she was, only moments before, sharing a pleasant conversation with. 

 

Once that aggressor was finished, and that man lain victim across the floor, he conquered the bar; the only thing that served as a barrier between him and Amandine.  

 

Upon seeing the violence that filled her place of work, a responsibility of protection, an internal spark of defense overtook the woman. Therefore, at the time that the man stood less than a foot from Amandine, she had already begun her casting - the only means of self-preservation she had.  

 

Get on the ground! Those savage words that lingered in the darkest part of her mind, but not as painfully as the regret she felt from her own actions of refusal.  

 

Pride and pain or cowardice and potential riddance? The decision at hand in those very moments.  

 

Non. A single word that caused the spiral of events that changed the emotion of this day - the birth of her child.  

 

Amandine and her assailant stood within spitting distance of another. The intensity weighing on their souls as a raised sword and a ball of conjured fire would determine their upcoming fate.  

 

Much to Amandine’s rue, she was not efficient enough in her casting, not yet skilled enough as a mage.  

 

"Die mage!"

 

Then was Amandine impaled by the brute’s  sword, to the right of her stomach, but truly his words would puncture her mind and allow a drowning sense of regret to enter her thoughts.  

 

I should’ve listened, why did I choose to fight? I knew better.  These were the mage’s final thoughts as the ichor seeped through her garbs and her cheek was pressed to the tile floor.  Hope drained from

Amandine in similar fashion to the blood that puddled around her; she surely expected to die in that moment.  

 

“Get away from her, she’s going to die!” A woman’s voice seethed to the bandit. This act of bravery caused the fallen lids of Amandine to flutter open, and soon were they filled with shock as she heard the ferryman’s next words: 

 

“Save her, but stay back!”

 

Was that remorse from her attacker?  

 

The woman heaved Amandine over the counter, and dragged her away from the bloodshed that continued.  

 

Amandine fought her faltering consciousness as the woman repeated “Stay awake, you have to stay awake.” 

 

The following events were a blur to Amandine after that moment until she awoke in the personal clinic of Dr. Primrose Gendik. 

 

A rush of energy surged through her as an alchemy concoction was administered. Her eyes frantically darted around her surroundings. Amandine’s husband was at her side in woe, but she allotted no attention to him. Instead, her gaze  pierced through Doctor Gendik. 

 

“My baby, how is my baby?” she asked, the fear in her tone and in her eyes was one she had never held prior - even when she stared potential death in the eye. 

 

Doctor Gendik discovered that there wasn’t only one child to be concerned for, but two.

 

 With a  sombe toner, Primrose informed the parents that one of the unborn children still carried strength, but the other will likely not survive this attack.  

 

Amandine relived these moments in her mind as she rested within the clinic. She recalled the rage, the thirst for revenge, the aggression she felt towards the ferryman that had killed her unborn child.  These emotions began to fume inside her again before her deep, deep thought was interrupted by her husband’s voice. 

 

“Amandine, are you alright?” Thomas inquired, taking note of Amandine’s intense stare and lengthy silence. 

 

“I will never let anyone hurt you, ever.” The determined mother whispered to her daughter. She will never make that mistake again.The loss of one of her children will follow her through motherhood, she set it into her mind that she won’t allow death  to take another one of her children -  even if it bestows her demise, not a single hand will bring harm to her kin.

 

[tcs_tonsils_ 2829]

Thomas Komnenos beamed as he looked down at his new baby. His joy consumed him as he stood their infront of his wife, even with some broken fingers. "She is gorgeous, cheri." The lad said softly, lofting his gaze up to her before settling it back down to his child. "You are finally here, little one." He would say, his mind shifting into a state of thought. My little, Aurora.

 

Yet through all of this joy, Thomas couldn't help but feel the bitter agony of what was. What could have been if things were different. My dear child, how I wish you could be here with us. He thought, regret washing over his features for the briefest moment before his head shook. Whatever was- was not what is. He would never forget, but he would not let himself be consumed by it. "Vous êtes tous les deux mon tout, mes amours." The Komnenos whispered, his gaze held firm on the child.