It made no sense. According to the laws of physics, the whole area should have been obliterated and turned into a smoldering crater. Yet there I was. Still alive only twenty yards away from the impact. Fortunately, there was no fire, although I felt sorry for the gardener for his proud roses were now thoroughly ruined.

People were running towards me, and they were calling my name, worried sick. I stood up, dusted off, and waved. The divine bitches missed their shot, I thought.

It was a small surprise that the Baroness, of all people, was the first one to reach me, closely followed by the Baron. They were all over me, checking every bits and piece of my body to see if I was hurt. Except for the scratches from running through rose bushes, I was fine. I felt fine, too. The Baroness knelt and hugged me whole. She was almost crying.

“Oh, my René. Praise God; you are not hurt.”

The Baron did not say anything. He was out of breath from running. Seeing I was not hurt, he doubled down and let out a sigh of relief. The servants and the maids surrounded us, and we all were relieved. We saw a stream of torches lit in the distant town, heading this way; Loyal folks coming to see if their Baron was alright. It was quite a sight.

Then, one by one, we, the people of the manor, approached the small crater formed by the impact, for there was a strange golden light emanating from the bottom. As one, we gasped.

There was a round rock about as big as myself, hissing, and smoking. It was almost egg-shaped, and the light was seeping out through the cracks on the surface. Yes, it seemed the meteor was hollow.

“Do you hear?” The Baroness whispered. We squinted and perked our ears. At first, it sounded like a cat meowing continuously. But-

“It is a baby!” Her Ladyship slid down the crater to everyone’s shock. She ignored the intense heat and got as close to the smoldering rock as possible. She listened in with closed eyes. And then the Baroness beamed a smile.

“There is a baby inside!”

Buckets of water were poured on the meteor to cool it down. Once the surface was no longer burning hot, just very warm to touches, chisels and hammers were brought in.

“Careful, lads.” The Baroness paced around, as the men started to crack the astro-eggshell.

The Baron and his council, including me, were back on the edge of the crater, gathered in a small circle.

“Could this be what the priest was referring to?”

“May he rest in peace.”

“If this was indeed what the old man was referring to, then should we not be all dead?”

“Excellent point.”

We were, in general, very confused, me especially. ‘There is a baby inside the meteor that was meant to kill me?’

“Perhaps, the baby-”

“If that indeed is a living breathing baby inside.”

“The baby is the trouble, perhaps?”

“Be sensible, my friend. It is just a baby.”

“IF that indeed is a living breathing-”

“Would you please stop-”

The council was arguing among themselves. The Baron was deep in thought, watching the men down in the crater carefully cracking the egg open. He then suddenly snapped out of his trance-like state.

“My God, we completely forgot about him!”

Everyone stopped working and blinked. The priest!

“Majordome, please make the necessary arrangement at once.”

The majordome hurried towards the manor with a group of servants. I glanced at the Baron. This great man took it upon himself to properly send off the town’s priest. Would most likely foot the bill, too.

“My Lord!”

The solicitor called out. He was pointing at the western sky. There was a series of lantern-lit kites all the way from Montclam and over the swampland. A pre-notice from Montclam that an urgent message of the highest importance was on its way. What could it be?

Our thoughts were interrupted by a sudden delightful shriek of the Baroness. The egg was wide open, and as suspected, the inside was hollow. Surrounded by a mysterious gooey golden substance was a small baby, so tiny, not even days old. It must have disliked the sudden influx of the night air and started to cry again. The Baroness and the maids wrapped the baby in linen clothes and rushed toward the manor.

###

We silently paced around in the Baron’s court. Nobody could go back to sleep, and we decided it was better to stay awake and wait for the message from Montclam to arrive. I was relieved to discover things no longer flew in my direction. Whatever the goddesses planned to do unto me was over.

The folks from the town had come and gone. They were worried but was relieved to find the people of the manor safe. The Baron had ordered us to keep quiet about the baby, and we were more than happy to comply. Convincing the folks THAT happened would be a serious challenge anyway. Seeing my father and mother were among the townsfolk, I had pleaded the Baron’s servants to keep quiet about me having been within twenty yards from the impact, for I did not wish to worry my parents.

“It was just a simple meteorite,” I told them casually.

“Shame about the roses, though,” said my father before heading back to the town with the people.

The majordome and the solicitor were busy writing letters, informing people of the land the sudden collapse of the priest. As I had foreseen, we at the manor were arranging the funeral for the poor old man, and for that, I was somewhat grateful. I wanted to send off my friend properly in the manner befitting the respect he rightfully deserved.

It was around dawn when Montclam’s messenger arrived. He had traveled non-stop all night and was dead tired, but the message was of the highest importance.

“Her Majesty Queen Mary has passed away.”

“What?! How?” The Baron jumped up from his seat. It was such sudden news. The Baroness seemed also shocked by the news.

“There was a complication while Her Majesty was delivering.”

The Baron paced around the room. He snapped around.

“Delivering?”

“Yes, milord,” the messenger bowed his head, “Her Majesty has gifted the kingdom with twin princes.”

The Baron’s face went pale, and his jaw dropped. The Baroness gasped.

“Twin sons, you say? And Her Majesty has passed away?”

After delivering the rest of the Royal Order, the messenger was ushered away to a guest room to rest. The kingdom was to go into three months of mourning for the loss of the queen, and then two months of celebration for the births of the twin princes. At the end of each period, the heads of each noble house across the kingdom were to attend the respective ceremony at the Royal Palace.

We sat there, flabbergasted. We had the old priest barge into the manor’s compound and scream about great trouble before collapsing to his death. Then a freaking meteorite fell in the garden, nearly killing me in the process. Then now, a message came saying Her Majesty has passed away. What a night, I thought.

The Baron was sitting in his chair, hunched forward. He was pulling his hair out. The Baroness was trying to comfort him, but clearly, the Baron was too stressed.

“Something troubles Your Lordship?” The majordome asked.

“Twins! Twin sons!” The Baron raised his head and looked at each of us. “Mark my words, it means trouble. This is what the good old priest meant! Twins, my God, why!”

At that time, I didn’t quite understand what the Baron meant. What was so wrong about twin princes?

It was nearly the morning when the chief maid brought in the baby and bowed to the Baron. Wrapped in clean clothes and put on a ridiculously large soft cushion, it was sleeping peacefully.

“My Lord, may I inquire Your Lordship’s intention regarding this baby?”

“How is he?”

“It is she, My Lord.”

“Is she well? Has she been fed?” The Baroness butted in. The chief maid looked troubled.

“My Lady, I am afraid there is no one in this manor currently producing milk.”

For a brief moment, a look of shame and self-loathing passed over the Baroness’s face. She sighed and looked around.

“We cannot possibly starve a baby.”

I stepped forward.

“My mother. She produces milk as she currently rears my baby brother.”

The baby stirred.

The Baron and his wife exchanged glances. The Baron cleared his throat.

“If the kind mother would not mind, I shall beg her to share some of her… produce.”

“Yes, My Lord. I am most certain mother would be more than happy to-”

My voice must have woken her up. The baby started to fuss. Before anyone could react, the Baroness jumped up and took the baby girl out of the chief maid’s arms. She carried the girl tenderly and paced around the room, cooing and singing softly.

While she was passing before me, the baby finally opened her eyes for the first time, and I nearly soiled my pants. Those eyes. The eyes! The ever-changing reflection of the light as if the iris was made of thick black oil. Then it dawned on me; I had misunderstood. The goddesses were not trying to kill me. There were no other places Firis could go, for I was THE anchor. I was the one who pulled the meteorite on me because I was the focal point of the collective divine efforts to send Firis down to the world of mortals. It all made sense now. The Baron was wrong; the poor old priest wasn’t talking about the twin princes. He was talking about Firis coming, and although he had no idea who Firis was, he had seen what she represented. And she was here now. The dying goddess actually came down here. On me.

I was stunned, but quickly regained my composure and put on a straight face. The baby’s eyes were locked onto me, and I stared back. ‘So, this is how it shall be?’

The baby stopped fussing. The Baroness sat down in her chair and was playing with the tiny fingers, and the smile she had on her face was just pure bliss to anyone lucky enough to have witnessed it. The Baron was watching her with twinkling eyes, and I could see his shoulders heaving up and down emotionally.

“My Lord, feeding her is one thing, but what shall we do about her?” The chief maid inquired once again.

The Baron walked over and stood next to his wife. He put his hand on the Baroness’s shoulder and gently squeezed, and the Lady looked up with tearful eyes and gave the nod. The Baron faced us and beamed a huge smile.

“I shall name her Anna. Anna La Rose. Of the Roseland.”