My Dearest Daughter,
I want to make sure that you know you are special. Very special. You are a miracle, my sweet girl. You are the embodiment of love, commitment, strength, stubbornness, loyalty, duty, and faith. When you are older, there will be those that will not accept you because of a myriad of factors. Some will fear you. Some may see you as impossible, an aberration. Others will hate you for what you represent. When those that judge you out of ignorance cause you pain and suffering, please remember that you are unique in the entire world, and that your mama and papa love you more than all the stars in the sky. We would go to the end of time for you, and almost did, in fact. You are a gift to us, and I hope that we never stop reminding you that our lives were complete the day you were born.
Your adoring Mama,
Sath and his son crept silently through the underbrush at the entrance to a cave held by Doosh’adame — Doosha, for short. The Doosha were a race of small supernatural humanoids, thought to be cousins to the elves that were separated when Orana’s voice broke the land apart and created Qatu’anari. They were unpleasant to all but other Doosha, and made their home in the thicket surrounding Qatu’anari. In their extreme distrust of outsiders, they were determined to rid Qatu’anari of the Qatu, and many times had launched deadly attacks on unsuspecting travelers that strayed too far from the safety of the city walls.
“Now, son, you know what to do,” Sath hissed in Khuj’s ear. The Rajahk’mare nodded his agreement, a low growl forming in his throat. Sath smiled proudly at his offspring. “You go left and I will go right and we will meet in the middle.”
“Tee’s best strategy, right Papa?” Khujann whispered as he beamed a toothy grin at his father. Teeand often visited the royal family of Qatu’anari, and frequently Sath had taken his oldest friend and his son out hunting so that Khujann could learn the ways of a warrior from one he considered the best.
“Aye. NOW!” The two Qatu males flew from their cover, pouncing on the unsuspecting Doosha with twin roars of rage. The Doosha fought back, their tiny war cries nothing more than squeaks and yelps. Soon Sath and Khujann had laid waste to not only the two guarding the entrance but also to the swarm that responded to the alarm the two raised, and they were creeping into a cave off the main cavern to mine a bit of the precious metal that was found there. It was the best substance, bar none for arrow tips and melting into weapons.
“Rajah!” a female voice called out from the cave’s mouth. Sath was on his feet in an instant, covering the distance to the entrance and scooping the Qatu female up, one giant hand covering her mouth. Her eyes were wide as saucers, but she did not fight him off. He recognized her as one of the Sahi Pahl — that should be back in the palace guarding Gin.
“There had better be a superb reason you just alerted every Doosha on this end of Qatu’anari to my position, female,” Sath hissed at her before taking his hand away from her mouth. “Speak!” He held her by her scruff, close to his face. Khujann leaned on the wall, rolling his eyes and trying not to laugh before disappearing into the cave.
“It is the First Wife, Majesty,” the female said, her voice shaking along with her entire body. Sath released her immediately. “Your daughter is being born even as we speak.”
“It’s too early,” Sath whispered, his face clouding with concern. “Khuj! We’ve got to head back!” The Rajahk’mare soon appeared at the cave entrance.
“What’s wrong, Papa? Is Ginny okay?” he asked, having heard the female mention the Pahat’nee.
“I don’t know,” Sath replied. A low and continuous growl was present behind his words. “This female says that your sister is being born.”
Khuj’s face split wide with a grin. “Then what are we waiting for, Papa? Ginny needs us!” The young male took off like a shot out of the cave, heading back toward the walled city of Qatu’anari as fast as his feet would take him, but Sath remained still as a horrible idea settled in his mind.
“First Wife…is she…all right?” Sath could barely bring himself to ask the question. Ever since he found out that Gin was carrying his baby, he had feared this day. He knew how the Qatu were born and how large the baby would be compared to Gin’s delicate frame, and he was not sure that she could bear the child if she had too much of Sath’s genetic influence. Though he desperately wanted another cub, he hoped with all his heart that Sephine’s magic had made sure that the child conceived while he was in wood elf form would be a wood elf like its mother. The thought of losing Gin was inconceivable.
“She was when she sent me to fetch you, Majesty,” the female replied. She had fallen to her knees when Sath released her, and was motionless before him, her head pressed into the dewy grass at the cave entrance.
“Then we should not waste time.” Sath spoke ancient magical words he learned from Gin that gave him and the female magically enhanced speed and they ran, following the path his son had taken only moments before. The trip back to the palace was a blur. Sath ran, no longer the Rajah, but a mate possessed by love, concern, and abject fear. He dashed past Khujann, the guards at the entrance, he barely acknowledged the magical stone cats that kept watch at the entrance to the royal palace, careened off walls and slammed into corners as he followed the emerald corridors to the bedchamber he shared with Gin, spurred on by the sounds of her screams. Just as he was about to break down the door to the chamber, her screams abruptly stopped. Sath skidded to a halt, his heart in his throat. “No…” he whispered as he placed one of his massive hands on the wooden door.
Another scream cut through the seemingly endless silence, but this time it was a baby’s scream, high-pitched and frantic. Sath’s eyes widened as he placed his hand on the door, still hesitant. His keen Qatu hearing searched for Gin, and soon he heard her, faint and small, laughing happily. He closed his eyes as he drew in a deep, ragged breath, and then pushed the door open.
All the females in the room immediately took a knee as he entered. “Majesty,” the midwife said from her position at Gin’s right side, “you are just in time to meet your daughter.” Sath walked slowly toward the bed, unable to believe what he was seeing. Nestled into the enormous pillows at the head of the bed was Gin. Blankets and towels were everywhere, and the metallic tang of blood burned his nose. She was pale, but awake and smiling weakly at him. For a moment he saw her as he had found her so long ago in Bellesea Keep, beaten down physically but still fiery in spirit. This time, however, in her arms, she held a small bundle that would periodically wriggle about as though fighting against the swaddling cloth. Gin’s eyes drooped, but she clung to the baby.
“Leave us,” Sath roared. The females scattered except for the midwife, a female called Kana, who remained at Gin’s right side. “Was I not clear just now when I -”
“It’s all right, Kana,” Gin whispered. “I will call you if I need you.” Kana bowed her head in deference to Gin and left the room. “Was that bluster really necessary?” she asked, lifting her exhausted gaze to meet Sath’s.
“Is she…are you…” Sath sat on the end of the bed, still out of Gin’s reach, as he stared at her. “Is she all right?”
“She is more than all right,” Gin said softly in Elvish. She looked down at the baby in her arms and Sath thought that his heart would explode out of his chest. “Our daughter is perfect.” He scooted a little closer, leaning way out and trying to get a better look at her. “Oh, for Kildir’s sake, Sath, come over here and hold her! She’s been kicking me to meet you for months now!” Gin scowled at him and he did as she asked, turning her scowl into a soft smile. Gin was the only one in the entire world that could speak to the Rajah of Qatu’anari that way and expect him to obey her.
Sath took his daughter in his trembling hands. She was tiny, much tinier than the other Qatu cubs he had seen born, and certainly smaller than Khujann had been. He could almost hold her in one of his hands. Carefully, he pulled back the blanket so that he could look at her and gasped at what he saw. A wood elf! He said a silent thank you to Sephine — a Qatu baby would have killed Gin in the birthing process. Her miniscule head had a full head of black hair with streaks of blonde, and her tiny fingers reached toward him until he offered a knuckle to her grasp. Safer than his claws. Other than the hair, which was an odd reversal of the colors of his own fur, she bore no resemblance to him. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, and he gasped again as he saw teal eyes gazing up at him from the tiny face — the marker of his royal line. Sath leaned in closer and noticed that her pupils were shaped like his — like dark slits rather than round like Gin’s. He was purring at her before he even realized it, and his daughter stilled in his hand at the sound. She looked up at him and squeezed his thumb with her tiny fingers, and before his eyes she changed shape — her sharp elven features covered with fur to look like a miniature Qatu, with fur and pointed ears and, he guessed since he could not see it, a tail. Her fur was as black as the night sky, but had streaks of blonde fur that matched his own coloring across her tiny face. Even the color of her eyes deepened into the teal that was a genetic marker of his family line. Sath stared at her in disbelief. “It…what the…this is a trick…”
“Is what a trick, Sath, what are you -” Gin pushed up on her elbows to be able to see what Sath was talking about and gasped loudly. “Sath — she’s a Qatu — but she was -” The young one turned her head at the sound of her mother’s voice and the fur seemed to smooth and melt back into oaken-tinged skin as she blinked her wide eyes. The only thing that did not change was the shape of the pupils that sought the sound of her mother’s voice again…or the color. They remained teal. Gin didn’t seem to notice her daughter’s eyes as she looked up at Sath in confusion. “Sath, how did she -”
Sath’s gaze hooked into hers. “That is Sephine’s gift, darlin. Has to be.” He smiled as he felt the tiny purr vibrating through his palm. “She is so small, Gin,” he managed to say, awe-struck as he was at the sight of his daughter. “Did the midwives say she was all right?”
Gin smiled sleepily. “They checked her from top to bottom, Sath. The Rajahk’mere is perfect from her head to her toes, and she is the exact right size for a baby of my kind. Mother Sephine has worked a miracle in our daughter’s creation. She is the perfect blend of both of us.” Sath snuggled up next to her and they both looked down at their daughter in wonder.