|Alquanis "Ally" Firesong|
Alquanis Firesong is... (More to come, obviously) :P
Chapter 1 - New Life on AzerothEdit
A darkened room. The stench of blood oozing from crisp, white sheets now soiled. Screams of agonising pain. The encouragement of the local priestess, wincing with every cry of her patient. A final push. A sigh of relief. Silence. Panic.
Ally couldn’t remember it herself, as much as she tried to. It seemed strange that perhaps the most traumatising event of our lives was one that no one seemed to remember, she would strain and strain her mind, sometimes convincing herself that she could remember just a brief glimpse of that day, but there was nothing. No, all the memories of that fateful day were those of her father and sister.
The childbirth was a wholly unpleasant one; a difficult pregnancy followed by a complicated labour. Her father had been positioned just outside, not wishing to breach etiquette by being beside his wife but entirely unable to leave the door, scared witless for both the love of his life and their unborn child. Her screams of pain ripped his nerves to shreds and he was overcome by a sudden flood of immense relief (as was she) as her screams came to a climax and then to an abrupt halt. Their joy was short-lived, however. The priestess gathered the baby in her arms but no sound came from the unmoving child. It was every expectant parent’s worst nightmare; a still birth.
The house was suddenly encased in a smothering silence as the priestess’ hands moved hurriedly over the motionless baby. Her father slumped against the wall outside, head in hands. Her mother, watching with despair, cold tears silently rolling down her flushed cheeks, her knuckles white as she gripped desperately to the bed sheets. It seemed like an age had passed before a shrill, high pitched scream broke the quiet; tears of despair were immediately replaced by tears of joy as the noisy, healthy baby girl was placed in her mother’s waiting arms.
“Just a slight blockage in her wind pipe,” the priestess reported with a bright smile, looking somewhat relieved herself as she watched the glowing mother embracing the newest member of the Firesong family.
It was that part of the tale that always made Ally smile. It had been her favourite story as a young elf. “Tell me about the day I was born, Daddy!” She would insist as her father tucked her lovingly into bed and he would, without fail, give her an almost entirely accurate account of the event, careful to skirt over the pain her mother had been through to bring his beautiful daughter into the world; there would be time for that later.
It was not until she was much older that her father admitted to her that it had in fact been the childbirth that had ultimately killed her mother. Though it had seemed like she was making a steady recovery, the injuries her body had sustained during labour were serious and permanent. When Ally was only three weeks old, her mother passed away quietly in her sleep. Her father had always been quick to reiterate that it had not been Ally’s fault, that her mother had desperately wanted a child and had been well aware of the risks involved but it was not enough to shift the lingering guilt that the young elf carried. The fact remained that had she not been born, her mother would still be alive.