A Modern Myth

by Clara Wake

  CLARA WAKE

  A MODERN MYTH

  Copyright © 2018 by Clara Wake

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Book Interior by The Book Khaleesi

  Mum, for being the strongest person in my life and for believing in me.

  Dad, who always said, “Do it your way, baby.”

  My rock, my everything, Sam.

  Rayne, you’re the reason I never gave up.

  Graham, the ear in my darkest hours.

  _______________________________

  CHAPTER 1

  “Not long now." The young, soon-to-be-father smiles, his eyes narrowing as he lovingly stares at the large belly of his beautiful wife.

  He rubbed his hand across her skin and leaned against it. His eyes crinkled as a strong kick vibrated in his fingertips.

  Light blue eyes sparkle at the realization his son is overdue and could be here any moment now. His stomach flutters with butterflies the more he thinks about it.

  It is a dream come true. They'd been told multiple times, by different specialists and doctors, that this little miracle wouldn't happen—that her body was inhospitable for a child.

  It was a doubtful and risky situation, should it happen at all.

  Their world and dreams shattered every time this news was told. Yet, they continued to try, and after two long years, the two bars had finally appeared on all three tests, and they'd never looked back.

  His gaze locks onto the round, bulging, and radiating belly, soon to catch the glimmer of red from the corner of his eye as it flows with the wind’s embrace; his wife's hair—bathing in the sunlight that rushes through the window. It is a beautiful setting and the perfect subject.

  He looks at her stomach, and smiles brightly – blinking at her, his cheeky grin hidden behind her belly, but it's so evident in his eyes.

  She is so exhausted, she barely moves. Why would she? The sun's rays are soothing, as the wind whisks through their small home. It’s a great and comforting afternoon, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

  “Not long at all,” she finally breathes, her lips curving. She adjusts herself carefully from her position. Even with that short reply, she is breathless, but she beams all the same; her expression is one of pure love. “How about we evict him? He’s already been there too long,” she huffs, with a rumble of a laugh. She hates to admit it, but she’s had enough. It’s left her so tired; even getting up is a daunting task, not to mention the thousands of trips to the bathroom. That subject is an entirely different story that needs its own book to explain the difficulties of pregnancy and childbirth.

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” He teases, humming as he crawls up and hovers over her – keeping enough distance, making sure he doesn’t crush her and his little man.

  His smile turns into a devious smirk, watching as she bites her bottom lip. She certainly is thinking the same thing, with that subtle bite of her lip.

  It doesn’t take him long to initiate further, closing the gap between them and tracing her delicate face with the tips of his fingers.

  Her vibrant forest green eyes flash up at him – staring right into his very soul. He can’t help but let a happy and delighted moan slip as he continues to admire her.

  “Kiss me,” she hisses—the spark of a plea tracing her tone before she lifts her head up to discover his lips with hers. She is riddled and cloaked in hormones, creating a wild storm inside of her. She is genuinely happy.

  Her heart shakes, and her pulse races with each touch and glance he inflicts.

  She is erratic and shaken with every possible emotion, but she wants to be as close as she can be to her husband.

  Seeing her bite at her lip again, he smiles against them before kissing her – losing himself in the rapt kiss. First, he is slow, passionate, and gentle, until her fingers curl into the dark locks of his hair, tugging and edging him on. His entire body becomes saturated in shivers. Kissing her, he hums and slowly shifts his left arm, placing his elbow over her shoulder. He lowers his arm and strokes her long, silky, and fiery hair. Still content and lost in the kisses, he hasn’t even bothered to advance any further.

  Her muffled moans, leave him sapped for a moment, taking everything in until he hears an unfamiliar pop that echoes through the small room. He’s never heard it before, and it startles him before his eyes snap open, to see hers full in alert.

  “What’s wrong?” He quivers, almost shouting. He is frozen in shock, unsure of what is happening. It doesn’t help that his wife is showing the same frightened expression he is.

  “M-my water just broke…” she stammers, with a long-bated breath following her words. Her lips are parted, and her eyes are still so broad and aware – it is happening.

  She is going to meet her beautiful little boy, and they are finally going to be the family they worked so hard for.

  He doesn’t stall; he is quick on his feet. Fast and ready, even as his head spins and arms flail in panic. He keeps himself in check. “Are you okay?” He finally asks as he spins around from jumping up. Standing beside her. Frantic, he hasn’t blinked yet.

  “I'm all right, baby” She soothes him with a comforting squeeze of his shoulder, sharing a very confident and collective tone. “Get the hospital bag, it’s in his room – I’ll get changed.” She directs him as calmly as she can; she can’t imagine how loud his mind is right now—just as or worse than her own.

  “Okay, okay!” He shouts, pumped and ready as he claps his hands and bounces off his feet; shooting towards their son’s room, next to theirs.

  Swinging the door open, the dark and pastel blue colours on the wall flash in the bathing light, causing him to pause and take a breath, take a moment.

  His eyes, slowly take in everything as he scans his son’s room. The realization sinks in, deeply and quickly. He can’t help but feel the overwhelming embrace of happiness strike his chest. Tightness spreading across his torso – leaving him breathless –the back of his throat thickens, and the tears cease his eyes.

  Overcome with so much joy, his eyes dance around the room. He finally takes in a deep breath and attempts to calm his nerves and settle his excitement. He has a task; he must get the hospital bag.

  Stepping further into the room, he sees the small and compact baby bag waiting in the cot, and he can’t help but imagine his screaming little bundle of joy being in there soon in only what he could only hope, just a few hours or a day at the most. He couldn’t wait…

  His piercing blue eyes reflect a golden glow as the sunshine dawns on him, as his eyes meet the letters spelling his son’s name above his cot. His smile could only continue to grow from this moment on.

  Stepping out, he closes the door slowly before turning on his heels and seeing his wife. She’s standing there with an anxious expression tracing her features, a contortion he always found so daunting – something he almost couldn’t bear to see – He meets her finally and wraps his arms around her. Embracing her carefully, he says, “Let’s go and meet our boy.” She leans in, trembling as the pain gathers from her pelvis and begins to shoot up her back. The pain is evidence that it is real.

  The Uber arrives quite swiftly, and the mad rush to the hospital doesn’t seem all too berserk. Admittedly, not like the movies— even with the rain and soft crackling thunder above, the raindrops spread across the windows an
d give her a sense of serenity as she stares out and watches the world move. Even as she grimaces from the throbbing agony that only seemed to increase with every bump and twitch of the drive, she does her best to breathe as peacefully and calmly as she can. Mind over matter.

  “I wonder who he’s going to look like?” She ponders, her tone light and soft; she can’t wipe the smile from her face, she is already so proud. The more she thinks about it, she is soon just admiring her husband and answering her own question, “as handsome as you, I’m sure,” she giggles to herself, as she watches him. He is so adorable. His bright blue eyes dart around in panic and his dark and thick hair wave with each jerk of his head. How did someone like me get so lucky?

  The rest of the 40-minute ride is a blur. She finds herself lost in her own world—thoughts that consistently bring a mysterious smile to her face. It is enigmatic because no one else knows why she is pleased, just that she is.

  She is so eager to see her son and hold him. So many years had passed with this hole in her chest— the constant feeling of someone or something missing in her life. It was about to be filled with the most valuable and perfect presence. She could swear, she was so excited she’d wet herself, considering her son had been using her bladder as a pillow or bouncy castle, who knew. Her pelvic floors were shattered, and sometimes It would take a laugh, or sneeze to have her dashing off to the toilet. Luckily enough, she makes it to the hospital with no accidents, and she is only steps away from their new journey.

  His mind is flooded. Racing and shaking with so many things, he can’t catch a single thought. So many questions scream at the back of his mind. Doubt and concern cross through and over the pure bliss he once felt—doubt of being a terrible father and fear for his son and wife’s well-being during such a traumatic and magical moment.

  His hands shake violently with the amount of stress that decides to spread and weigh his shoulders down. Yet, he stands tall and watches everything and everyone that surrounds him. Although, he never lifts his gaze from his wife and is always careful of what he might say.

  He’s seen it all before in reality TV shows. The mother, screaming and cussing at the partner as if it’s all their fault. He understands it, but he certainly fears it from his wife.

  She may be small, standing at 5’2, petite and gentle, but she is fierce, freakishly strong, and more agile than you’d ever believe. It is also, extraordinary with her height as she is an Elf. One of the few Elven bloodlines left to be exact – that anyone knew of.

  It has been stated and said that the human bloodline had thinned and faded the elven genes, making them almost non-existent. You’d be lucky to come across one at all. It was as if they all vanished or were hiding. Who knew. Did anyone know?

  No one questioned it, the humans overpopulated the entire world. As they claim, that’s how it should be. No one batted an eyelash when the elves started to disappear. No one cared.

  To the humans, they were too powerful, superior and different. Something they could never be content with, something they could never settle with – they were far too foreign, like an alien race on their planet. It didn’t matter if they were loyal, kind, passionate and vigorous. It didn’t matter.

  The second their pointed ears and tall figures were seen, heads would turn, and their presence wasn’t needed nor wanted.

  It was a different world when it came to him and his wife – He’d fallen in love with the fact that she is so different: so beautiful, kind and deviously cheeky. He loved every aspect of her. From her fiery crimson hair, so long and elegant and down to her backside, and right to her emerald eyes that gazed into his soul with nothing but devotion and love.

  “You're eight cm dilated; it’s time to push,” the midwife alerts her, eyes wide and a smile pressed on her face. Her tone is bright and high, vivifying the mood and room. She knows this is a scary thought, a wild realization for the mother-to-be. It is the dawn of a whole new world.

  She is prepared, ready, and nothing can stop her. She’s going all natural; no drugs. She doesn’t want anything affecting her son and causing any trouble or problems for them.

  Her mind is set, and she’s so ready to meet her little man and become the family she’s wanted and needed since she met her husband.

  It’s nothing but a blur, only her husband’s cheering and squeezing of her hand is what she can comprehend. Everything else feels foggy and distorted. She screams through the pain, as the pressure continues, and fire erupts from her pelvis.

  She holds her breath as the ring of fire spreads through her. It is the most pain and agony she’s ever felt, and as she finally huffs loudly, she hears a soft cry, and the pain dissolves immediately. Vanishing the second, her ears catch the sounds of her son breathing, taking in the air and letting everyone know he’s here.

  Panting, crying, and overwhelmed, she watches carefully through blurred vision as they cut the cord and clean him up for a weigh in. From what she can see, he’s big—so long and perfect. She doesn’t take her eyes off him until her loving and sobbing husband moves into her line of sight and snakes his arms around her.

  “I’m so proud of you, baby,” he whispers, as he kisses along her cheek. Trying to trap the many tears that wedged at the corners of his eyes. He’s so overjoyed, so proud. He can’t wipe the smile from his lips; he’s so happy to have his little man here with them. He is finally here, and he certainly wants everyone to know with those set of lungs on him.

  Her shaking arms drape over his shoulders to pull him in closer.

  He is such a sweetheart crying. He may be standing at 6’4, but he is the gentlest giant you’d ever meet. She loves that so much about him. She’s so in love right now, as she pressed her cheek against his chest, hearing his heart fluttering erratically within his chest. A smile spreads across her lips. She’s never felt so much happiness.

  Carefully, the nurse carries their baby boy in her arms, wrapping him in a pastel blue blanket. She smiles down at them, before unwrapping him gently, and placing him down onto her, skin-to-skin.

  “Do you have a name?” The nurse asks, watching as the parents’ faces glow with pure joy, continually inspecting the newborn in the mother’s arms, making sure everything is alright.

  “Nickolai,” the husband announces, as he shifts from his wife and sits beside her. His eyes never leave his son’s petite face. He is so little, so pure and amazing. He couldn’t believe it, yet there he was.

  As he sits there, in a daze watching his beautiful wife, and son. He can’t help but lift a giggle from his lips before he leans in and softly strokes Nickolai’s head. Attempting to straighten and flatten the back of his head, as a small section of his crimson hair intentionally stuck upward. Any attempt he makes to smooth it fails, and it only leaves him and his wife giggling to themselves. “His hair has attitude already,” he chuckles, as he leans in and kisses the top of his head.

  She holds him carefully; she’s frightened she might hurt him. She’s never held a newborn before. It is natural for a new mother to be so cautious, scared, and anxious. It’s to be expected, and that’s what the nurses are for: to coach and teach her. Eventually, her motherly instincts should kick in, and she’ll be holding him by one leg or arm ultimately.

  His little eyes blink to the unnatural and blinding light. His little eyebrows furrow in frustration at how bright, and loud everything is. Everything is so different, but the second his head rests on his mother’s chest, the familiar rhythm of her heartbeat and voice, calms him immediately.

  She doesn’t take her eyes off him, vividly taking in every little detail about him: his little dimples, the way he scrunches his nose, the way his long elven ears twitch, the small tuff of his stubborn crimson hair, and his beautiful eyes as he opens them. However, it’s then she notices, something isn’t right.

  “N-nurse!” She screeches swiftly, as panic overrides her, and her eyes dart up to meet the incoming nurse. Her whole body shakes, and her voice trembles.

  “S-something is wro
ng!” She manages to let out, words shaking. “His eyes…they’re…”

  She continues to stammer, unsure of what is wrong or why it is happening. As she looks down at the baby, he continues to blink at her. Trying to focus on the blurry vision that sounds so familiar.

  The nurse is quick to take Nickolai from the stressed mother’s arms, to look at his face, placing him down on the table and flicking the light on to get a more detailed look at the problem.

  The right eye was a sharp bright blue, while the left was a vibrant cyan shade of aquamarine. A case of Heterochromia iridium. It wasn’t tremendously rare, but in some cases, it was.

  Clearly, he’d had no trauma during birth. She could only conclude it to be a genetic condition, and the shaken mother had nothing to worry about. He was even more unique and beautiful.

  Taking a moment, she happily wraps Nickolai back into his blanket and hands him over to his frantic mother, a smile of content striking her features as she watches them.

  “He’s fine, he has a case of Heterochromia Iridium. It’s rare,” she starts, taking a moment before continuing. “It’s generic; he’s perfectly fine. His vision shouldn’t be affected at all. It’s just an abnormality in his irises.” She stops there and drops her shoulders. Her voice calm and soothing, tells them they have nothing to worry about. “He’s even more special,” she beams, giving them a nod before she leaves the doting parents to take everything in.

  Holding him close, to take any pain away that he may have, she firmly holds him – never wanting to let go, wishing the fear away as she closes her eyes and rests her forehead against his.

  Her chest is bursting, and finally she takes the breath she’s been holding in the entire time. He is fine, he is okay. He’s perfect. He’s unique and beautiful, and he’s finally here.

  The night is cold, silent and different. Abnormal in many ways. Not only did she have her newborn, who fell asleep on her chest after a feed and burping session, it is the white, dull walls and scent of sterilizing alcohol.