Samuel Alistair POV:
Within peace exists violence. Within life exists death. Within love exists hate. Within happiness exists sorrow. Within belief exists lies. Within the body exists a foundation. Within the heart exists an essence. Within the human exists a contradiction; a beautiful beginning with an appalling end; the beautiful lie and the ugly truth.
A breath; a breath from the heavens.
A gift; the gift of life.
It was subtle. Small.
Uneven, as if the breath was confused, unsure of what was being inhaled.
Quiet; however, within the room – the room which held no sound – the breath was all that was heard.
I didn’t want to make noise; I couldn’t make noise. I wanted to hear the breath. I bottled my emotions, so not a sound was heard from me.
The breath belonged to that of a boy. A newborn. A baby who had been born only moments prior, whose existence was only a concept before being birthed into reality.
Within the grasp of my hand was another, firmly holding onto me as if I’d disappear in a moment’s notice; however, I was staring at the ceiling in a precarious attempt to hold back tears, hoping for gravity to do its job, before finally breaking the silence with a satisfied breath. “You did it Gloria… our son is here.”
“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Alistair. Your baby boy is perfectly healthy.”
I faced the midwife that cradled my silent son in a white towel. She was a short woman, slender, whose fine grey hair was tied in a tight bun. Tired brown eyes and many wrinkles creased her face, signifying her old age. She wore a large blue medical gown that reached down to her calves. Although she was obviously worn out – evident from the sweat on her fair skin – she kept a stoic face in an attempt to hide her weariness.
The midwifes gaze hadn’t left the child, even as she spoke with a tired-cheery voice. “Mrs. Alistair, would you like to hold your child?”
I turned my gaze to my wife whose lower body had been covered with a black cover. Her wavy black hair had been messy, frizzy, with strands of her hair sticking to her profusely sweating face. Her warm ivory skin had turned a luminescent pale, as her hazel eyes had struggled to stay open from exhaustion.
But to me she was still the most beautiful woman in the world.
As the midwife handed our child to my wife, a weak smile slowly arose from her pink exhausted lips. Our child, whose eyes had been closed and still hadn’t cried once, had been caught under the same spell as his mother, smiling slightly. Whether it was from the warmness of Gloria’s hands from having gripped on mine for so long that brought about his smile, or maybe he, too, had understood who exactly was carrying him; and felt her warmness from within his tiny beating heart, I don’t know.
Granted, I couldn’t exactly get a good look at my child as I had been enduring a battle with myself at this moment; a battle fought by my mind and heart; the wish to see my child as emotions clouded my vision. I had to make do with the towel that held my child and gained subtle relief from my wife’s smile.
‘As long as she’s happy, then so am I.’
From behind the towel, two tiny hands emerged, reaching, and reaching for the one who held him. Gloria extended her dainty index finger, aligning it within the tiny hands. To this, Gloria’s eyes turned to slits, as a wide smile overcoming her fatigue took its place. “He’s beautiful. I can already tell he’s going to be a troublemaker just like his father.”
“Don’t forget a ladies man. He does have my face after all.” I said triumphantly puffing out my chest.
Gloria looked at me with a sardonic stare; smile now a mocking grin. “Already acting haughty?”
“Haughty!” I scoffed, gripping my chest as if I were stabbed in the heart. “You’re hurting your husbands heart here.”
Both Gloria and the midwife laughed, but I happened to catch a glimpse of white hair peeking out of the white towel due to Gloria’s movements.
Shocked by my discovery, I turned to Ms. Sakura; the midwife. “Ms. Sakura is it normal for the baby to have white hair? After all, both my wife and I have black hair… Wait don’t tell me.” I flicked my head to my wife with tears – I so desperately fought back a few moments ago – clouding my eyes.
My wife stared at me with eyes of disdain, piercing through my very heart. “Are you dumb? Never mind I’ve always been aware of your stupidity.” She sighed, rubbing her temples. “He’s your son. And you’re the only man I’ve been with. Besides, look closely, he has your purple eyes.”
I walked closer to Gloria, peeked my head over the tiny walls of the white towel, and nervously studied the child’s appearance. His long white eyelashes fluttered, fluttered, and fluttered along to the child’s eyes repetitively closing and opening, never actually widening his eyes; indeed, they remained akin to slits. It was like with each time his eyelashes fluttered along, they refused to let the child see the light, for even the smallest hint of light would cause him to shut his eyes entirely. Almost like the child’s body wished to reject the light, wishing to remain in darkness. Before finally, after the same closing and opening pattern three more times, the child adjusted to the faint orange tint of light that dimly luminated the room; the only other source of light besides the moon itself.
There, in that moment, the boys eyes opened
“Thank god.” I sighed a breath of relief, wiping away the remnants of tears from my eyes with the sleeve from my dark-grey, long-sleeved tunic. “Wait why are you calling me stupid? It was a valid question!”
My question had been asked on good grounds!
My stature was firm, tall, with my physique being noticeably well-built; my muscles weren’t necessarily bulging through my slightly oversized tunic, but they were apparent. As spoken previously, I had thin black hair, albeit mussed with my wife’s comment on my purple eyes adding further insight to my appearance.
My son suddenly being born with white hair is suspicious!
Anyone would question that!!!
“He is going to be ok though, right?” Gloria further questioned; nervousness apparent in her voice.
Ms. Sakura smiled; eyes narrowed to crescents from her smile, speaking softly. “Don’t worry. Your son is fine. I believe that his body encountered some stress whilst inside your stomach. It’s quite rare amongst most newborns but it’s completely harmless. That I can assure you, Mrs. Alistair.”
My wife’s face, once tensed with unease, had relaxed into a state of relief. My wife, then, looked out the window near her bed; she stared down at the homes that spread across the land, as the moon shined within her hazel iris’s.
I’m the current lord of this land that spreads northward, though much against my will. The land I watched over had been a village, albeit smaller than an average village, housing a little less than 300 citizens. But the yellow lights belonging to the many cottage-like homes, whose life was birthed through flame, dancing through the night, spreading its warmth and illumination to all, truly made it a sight to behold. That’s when snow started to fall swiftly, slowly, and softly spreading its white hue over the village, like a blanket being placed over a new born.
No pun intended.
The fire crackling within the fireplace on the left side of the room, giving a refreshing warmth to our cold bones on this cold night, while gazing out the window gave a feeling of… tranquility.
“Albus.” My wife suddenly spoke, breaking the silence, gaze remaining outside the window.
“Our child’s name: Albus meaning white; White as his hair; White as the moons light.”
“I see. Albus Alistair, huh?” A wry grin arose from my expressionless mouth. “He’s going to be quite the playboy.”
“Dear, although I’m very fatigued right now, I won’t hesitate to make you sleep outside.” My wife said flatly.
“Huh? Me? Why? I’ll freeze to death! I’ve done nothing wrong! Defamation I say!”
She rolled her eyes. “Right.”
We all chuckled admiring the beautiful lights and the even more beautiful child.
Albus’s round eyes were akin to small amethysts, surrounded by long white eyelashes. Albus’s skin was an alabaster white, purest as can be. Even though he had just been born, he had a full mussed head of white, thin hair.
It was as though this boy had been the personification of the word pure itself. Everyone’s gaze couldn’t leave the boy, rather they chose not to. For a simple gaze at Albus was enough to bewitch even the insidious, like naked eyes staring at the sun, blinding them entirely with a new perspective. The purity that everyone sought resided within this boy, and that had been enough to satisfy everyone’s now wretched soul.
Indeed, compared to Albus, everyone seemed to have been nothing but monsters.
That’s just how beautiful Albus is; that’s just how pure Albus is.
My wife’s eyes suddenly widened in an appalling manner. “Ah! Dear, we forgot about Tadashi! He said he was going to get medicine for me! Go find him!”
“Oh shit!” By the time I realized that I had cursed, my wife was already staring daggers into me. Just the feel of it made me wince from fear.
‘She’s seriously going to make me sleep outside tonight.’ I thought horrified from the vision of being frozen alive underneath a blanket of snow. It’s crazy how quickly she can change from admiring our child, both exuding a certain beauty, then suddenly shocked out of remembrance, and finally leaking an immense amount of killing intent from her gaze alone.
Nevertheless, I got out of the room to search for Tadashi.