Wemlis-Bemlis MacGoblin

It was a cold and brisk Snow Maiden night in Almaris. Wemlis-Bemlis MacGoblin and her two son’s Limmy and Pimpul watched afar from the cave-mouth in which they live in the north of Norland. A fire burns rapidly beside Wemlis and her husband Clergus MacGoblin. Wemlis let’s out an antagonising wail. Clergus is weak, his health deteriorating for months on end, but he presses on to be there for his wife and children, determined to be there for his new child. Wemlis gasps for air as she clutches the hand of Clergus. Wemlis, unaware of her husbands decline in health, begs for support and she births their third son. A baby wails, Wemlis, sweaty, clammy, and tired, sighs in relief. “Clergus, my love, this done. He is here, little Triton, Triton MacGoblin,” Wemlis sighs with tears in her eyes. No response comes from Clergus. “My Dear?” Nothing. Wemlis looks up and sees Clergus hunched over, skin pale, paler than usual. Lifeless and limp. Wemlis lets out another wail, this time, a wail of horrific despair. Clutching at her new born, she shuffles to her husband, rigid in the sand beneath him. She shakes his body, once, twice, thrice, nothing. He is gone, to her despair. She looks back to the cave mouth, staring at the wide eyes of her other two children, longing for their father, and safe return of their mother and new sibling. Their father had promised the safe return of their mother, how would their mother then explain that their beloved father would be the one not returning. Wemlis clutches the baby to her chest and makes an exasperated cry towards the night sky. She looks back to her husband, wooden on the floor. She winces. Picking up the rock, intended for her husband, she severs the cord attaching her with child. She staggers as she reaches her feet, bloody and battered. Smiling weakly towards the cave mouth, as to give her sons hope. But she knows within her that she will be broken and beaten from this moment forth. Wemlis begins to brush sand over the body of Clergus, not wishing her boys to see what has become of their father. With tears in her eyes, she’s tightly grasps at her newborn, knowing it is, and forever will be her last connection to her husband. With this in mind, she weakly limps back towards the cave, knowing she has to care, and fight for her sons.

It was a cold and brisk Snow Maiden night in Almaris. Wemlis-Bemlis MacGoblin and her two son’s Limmy and Pimpul watched afar from the cave-mouth in which they live in the north of Norland. A fire burns rapidly beside Wemlis and her husband Clergus MacGoblin. Wemlis let’s out an antagonising wail. Clergus is weak, his health deteriorating for months on end, but he presses on to be there for his wife and children, determined to be there for his new child. Wemlis gasps for air as she clutches the hand of Clergus. Wemlis, unaware of her husbands decline in health, begs for support and she births their third son. A baby wails, Wemlis, sweaty, clammy, and tired, sighs in relief. “Clergus, my love, this done. He is here, little Triton, Triton MacGoblin,” Wemlis sighs with tears in her eyes. No response comes from Clergus. “My Dear?” Nothing. Wemlis looks up and sees Clergus hunched over, skin pale, paler than usual. Lifeless and limp. Wemlis lets out another wail, this time, a wail of horrific despair. Clutching at her new born, she shuffles to her husband, rigid in the sand beneath him. She shakes his body, once, twice, thrice, nothing. He is gone, to her despair. She looks back to the cave mouth, staring at the wide eyes of her other two children, longing for their father, and safe return of their mother and new sibling. Their father had promised the safe return of their mother, how would their mother then explain that their beloved father would be the one not returning. Wemlis clutches the baby to her chest and makes an exasperated cry towards the night sky. She looks back to her husband, wooden on the floor. She winces. Picking up the rock, intended for her husband, she severs the cord attaching her with child. She staggers as she reaches her feet, bloody and battered. Smiling weakly towards the cave mouth, as to give her sons hope. But she knows within her that she will be broken and beaten from this moment forth. Wemlis begins to brush sand over the body of Clergus, not wishing her boys to see what has become of their father. With tears in her eyes, she’s tightly grasps at her newborn, knowing it is, and forever will be her last connection to her husband. With this in mind, she weakly limps back towards the cave, knowing she has to care, and fight for her sons.