Chikachu

Artie takes up his place next to his father playing with whatever random object Aron gave him this time, looking up at everyone who comes in with a big grin.

Something was wrong. Kali couldn’t’ focus. Something was keeping the scene from coming into enough focus for her to think about it. Kali felt as though she were drifting. Then the pain came, and Kali realized with horror what had happened, and how it had come to this. She had felt this pain before. It was too soon. “Oh God, no,” she whispered, using the name in the actual and complete meaning of the word. A silent prayer to the One True God, a prayer for a child who was coming too fast… too soon. He wasn’t ready. The boy who had caused her to fall was beside her now as she backed into the corner, trying to keep her breathing steady. He was an innocent child – he hadn’t even realized what he had done even now as the blood began to run down her leg. The boy spoke to her, but she couldn’t understand him. It felt as though cotton had filled her head. She could no longer hear the shouting that had been going around, her mouth was dry and her throat as well, she couldn’t focus on the world around her. It was though everything was coming to her from behind hazy glass and she couldn’t quite see what was coming or what would happen. The boy spoke again, and this time she understood a bit better. He was asking if she was alright. “Lancel…” Kali whispered, “Go get Lancel…” Then she felt herself drift into darkness as she slumped to the ground. The pain didn’t stop in unconsciousness. It seemed to throb, coming out in waves from her lower stomach. She didn’t know why the pain was so much more than last time. Her body responded: Something was wrong. She came to again with the sound of people shouting above her. Her breath was coming faster now, and the pain became more acute – everything came into complete and painful focus. Another voice spoke from above, and this one she recognized. “Artorus!” she screamed, and she faded for another moment. The next thing she knew, Artorus was there, standing just before her. “I’m here, Kali,” he said gently, and Kali looked up into the gray eyes of the man who had been there for her through everything, the man she had loved as a father in all her time in Oren. She smiled slightly, and she wanted to reach out to him, but her hand wouldn’t respond the way she wanted it to. “It’s too soon,” Kali whispered, “It’s too soon!” “It will be alright,” Artorus promised, his smile false on his face, but Kali could certainly see that he was trying. Still, their fear didn’t change the baby coming, and came he did. Little Artorus Hightower came into the world on Itnan, the 9th of Malin’s Welcome, Year 54. He was small, much too small, only the size of Artorus’ palm as the large man held the tiny child. Lancel was there then, clutching Kali’s hand just as tightly as she clutched his, his usually bright and teasing green eyes hard and cold as the emeralds in the market. His usual smirk wouldn’t fit on this new face that Kali saw as his son was born into the word. Artorus took the child and cleaned him, wrapping him in a cloak. “Artorus…” Kali breathed. “Yes?” “That’s his name… Artorus... like I promised…” Lancel snarled slightly, but Kali knew he would respect her wishes in this. “Artorus Azagath… uniting enemies… just don’t tell Lion that…” Kali laughed slightly. Now both men were frowning, but Artorus held the baby out for her to see all the same. “He has my eyes…” she whispered again, “I was… hoping… he would have… yours... Lancel…” That seemed to lighten the mood, and Kali let go of Lancel’s hand as Artorus gave the small child to him. Something was wrong. The pain returned suddenly and in full force, making Kali gasp and arch her back from it. Artorus turned fast, hurrying back to try and help her. The blood was flowing fresh now, and in no way healthily. Kali screamed in pain, and she knew the time had come. It was Kali’s time to die. No! she screamed, though the word wouldn’t form on her lips. This couldn’t happen. Patrick was still only a child, four years of age. He would need his mother for many more years. And now little Artie was there too. Lancel watched in horror, holding the little Artorus and able to do nothing as Kali writhed in pain on the floor of the dark cave. This couldn’t happen. She hadn’t fixed anything – Oren was still as corrupt as it had been when she had come. She’d had so many more plans, s many more things that she’d wanted to do. Kali felt herself begin to drift, and clutched at the stones only to find that her hands were already claws against the ground. He heart thudding in her chest began to slow and she realized with a strange dreaminess through the pain that she was dying. Artorus was a good man, but he was not a healer, and no healer had come. Kali might have laughed at the irony. The only healer around as she died was her. Kali tried to speak quickly, knowing that her time was growing short, “Oh God, Alex… Artorus… don’t let him… Patrick…” “Of course not,” Artorus replied quietly “If anything happens… take care of them…” Artorus nodded, unable to speak anymore, his eyes shining slightly in the semi-darkness. Kali turned to Lancel, looking up at the man she had come to love, no matter how wrong it had been. The anguish in his eyes was quite apparent. Instead, he clutched their child to his armor, though gently. “I…” Kali whispered as her life ebbed away, “I… I’m so…” “Don’t be sorry,” Artorus said quickly. Kali smiled, wishing she could laugh for them, “I’m always sorry…” she said as she faded away. All she could see was the one who wasn’t there. The one who should have been there. Alexander. Her love, her life. After everything they had done to each other, she still loved him, and she would always love him. She could love many others, and he could love them as well. But not matter what happened, she would always love him, and she knew that he would always love her. Now and forever. To him she was sorry. She wished she could have waited for him to come. ~~~ And so passed Imperial Princess Kali Horen. Wife to Alexander Horen. Lover to Lancel Hightower. Mother of Patrick William Artorus Jrent and Artorus Azagath Hightower. Friend and Rival of Ari Hightower. Caretaker of the orphans Borceicity, Samuel, and Thomas. Friend of Artorus Elendil, Alyssia Elendil, Isabella Elendil, Ramdir Soulblade, and many many more over the years. May her soul find peace in Solace where her body rests. Amen.

Alright, alright,you win. I'm never leaving my house at night again.

Imperial Princess Kali takes an extra moment after Alexander left the guards to instruct Ramdir Soulblade, her faithful guard, in the protection of Patrick, kissing the young child on the head and leaving him rather nervously in the care of her already semi-incompetent guard, at least in the case of children, and instructs a second guard on the way out, "Make sure Ramdir is careful, he should be fine, but I'd rather there were a second pair of eyes on him." The guard nods with a small smirk he attempts to hide, and Kali proceeds into the tent, quickly moving to sit in the small chair beside Alexander's. Once she is seated, she takes a moment to glance around the room, smiling at each of the nobles in turn, but paying particular attention to some few, including Patrick Denims, after whom her son was named after and who is at that moment speaking to Alexander, as well as Ari and Lancel Hightower, equally glad to see both of them recovering so well since the last she saw of them. She also takes notices of Lord Norsem, and his recoveries, as well as smiling to the Butler as he goes out again, thanking him warmly for the meal prepared. Alexander settles back in the seat beside her, and she studies his stone-cold face with a hint of worry, though she is careful to make sure it is as unnoticed as she can make it, and she squeezes his hand in hers with a small smile in his direction as he looks at her. There is little reaction that she can tell, but she pretends to herself that nothing was different as she looks back at the room, trying to keep her spirits up.