Page 1 of When Storms Ruin

Akra, Istmere

18 Years Ago

It was beginning to feel as if this baby wouldnevercome. Annelise had been pushing forhours, possibly days. Her body was growing weak, her resolve deteriorating rapidly. Her first child had come into this world easily, in a mere matter of hours. This labor felt like an eternity. The contractions were coming faster and faster, but this child had no plans to join this realm any time soon.

The midwives were beginning to worry. They had already called for the king. He traveled back from Siraleth with haste, but they still weren’t sure if he would make it in time. Annelise was a fighting spirit, and she would not give up easily. The bedsheets were soaked with sweat and blood, Annelise crying out as she tried her hardest topush, and push, and push.

The midwives had done everything they could to turn the baby, but to no avail. Their last hope was that the Stormshade witch would arrive in time. That she could sneak through the hidden passageways in the stone castle to help bring this baby into the world. She was a renowned midwife with long-forgotten birthing spells, but she was also a Stormshade. If she was caught, she would be killed. She was the queen’s last hope for survival.

Annelise had hidden her own nature well. Everyone in the castle, including the midwives, thought her to be a Shade. Even her husband, The Dark King Osiris, didn’t suspect her true nature. That she was of the same lineage as the witch they had sent for. That she, herself, was aStormshade.

She prayed night and day that the king’s child would be a Shade. Or, mother bless us, a Nightshade, but Annelise feared the worst. This child was a fight from the very beginning, and Annelise knew only a Stormshade would fightthishard. Would bethisstubborn and strong-willed, even before birth.

Annelise released a guttural scream as she gripped the headboard, a wave of pain threatening to take her under. A fresh swell of blood poured forth, and Annelise shook her head back and forth violently.No. She wouldn’t lose this fight. She would save this child.Her child.

A knock on the door sounded, and the midwives hurried to open it. Whether they hoped it was the Stormshade witch they had sent for or The Dark King, they weren’t sure. A woman spilled into the room in a frenzy of cloak and chaos, tossing her stark white hair out of her face and kneeling at Annelise’s bedside.

“How long?” The woman asked, her teeth gritted, her gaze on Annelise.

They exchanged a glance between them, unsure of how much time had already passed.

“Almost a day and a half, if we had to hazard a guess,” one of the nurses replied, bowing her head so as to not make eye contact with the Stormshade.

“Fools,” the witch spat, “you should have called me right away.”

She quickly got to work, mixing a concoction of herbs and spices into a bowl and crushing it into a fine powder with the pestle. She poured the milled powder into a short glass and waved her hand over it, a spell spilling forth from her lips. The glass filled with liquid and turned a dark, murky color.

“Drink,” she instructed, thrusting the glass at Annelise.

The witch took a Bloodstone Jasper, a dark green stone spattered with red, and strung it around Annelise’s neck.

Annelise met her gaze, a question in her eyes.

“This is the only way,” the Stormshade healer confirmed with a finite nod of her head.

Annelise brought the murky brew to her lips and threw the strange liquid back in one gulp, cringing at the bitter, poisonous taste.

“Good. Now we have to turn her.”

The healer laid her hand on Annelise’s swollen belly, words pouring forth, her eyes closed in concentration.

“Aqua, Terra, Ignis et Aer, da mihi rem pulcherrimam.”

The words were a hushed whisper.

“Chant with me, witch.” The healer’s words were a sharp command.

Annelise did as she was told, chanting with the Stormshade witch, her hand clasping her stomach. She squeezed her eyes shut against the sharp stab of pain.

“Aqua, Terra, Ignis et Aer, da mihi rem pulcherrimam.”

“Aqua, Terra, Ignis et Aer, da mihi rem pulcherrimam.”

“Aqua, Terra, Ignis et Aer, da mihi rem pulcherrimam.”

Annelise could feel the movement as the child turned, and she smiled through the sweat and tears that stained her cheeks. A hysterical laugh bubbled forth from her lips.

“Nowpush,” the healer commanded, moving to the base of the bed to deliver the stubborn child.

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