Prologue: Behind the wall

Solana skimmed through thousand-year-old birth records on the screen in front of her. Elves meticulously annotated lineages, even in today’s world, where bloodlines and humanoid species mixing was maybe not the norm, but far more accepted. Full lips stretched into a grin as, beneath her protective hand, a tiny foot pressed against her belly.

“Good morning, Aurellia,” she whispered.

Her husband stepped into the room covered in dust and grime, with three boxes under one arm and a crowbar in the other hand. The Titanblood would have looked utterly intimidating were it not for the fact that she’d seen photos of him letting his younger sister give him makeovers. Merkra set the boxes on the table in front of her and dropped onto his knees to hover over her belly.

“How’re my girls?” his voice rumbled.

“Well. She is just getting up for the day.” Solana took his hand and placed it on the spot the baby had just kicked.

Merkra gestured back to the table with his head. “Was taking out the wall in the office like you asked. There was a bunch of old junk behind it. Looks like books. You wanna take a look before I toss em?”

“Behind the wall?” Solana raised a thin eyebrow at him.

He shrugged broad shoulders as he pressed his ear to her stomach. “This house is full of weird old shit. It’s no wonder your dad didn’t wanna live in it.”

“Don’t curse in front of the baby.” She smacked his arm gently.

Merkra grimaced at her and grunted. “She’ll hear much worse when her auntie is around.” He kissed her belly before lifting to kiss her. “I’m gonna get back to work. Let me know what you want done with those.”

Solana placed the tablet on the table beside the boxes as Merkra lumbered back to whatever he was tearing apart. With a grunt, she swung her legs off the couch and took the lid off the top box. She ran a finger along the first few spines, displacing the collected dust enough to read the titles. Old medical textbooks. Beside the textbooks was a series of leather-bound journals.

Solana lifted the necklace from under her shirt and rubbed the amulet at the end. A faint purple light illuminated the box before fading into a lighter pink smoke. A simple spell, but it should be enough to keep the pages from falling apart when she opened the books.

The journals were mostly routine medical notes from one Reggius Sarfiel. She grabbed the tablet again and checked the family tree she’d just been constructing. Sure enough, Reggius Sarfiel. Her great (several times over) grandfather. Who hid his books behind a wall? Why? This house had been in the Sarfiel family for generations, and her dad only recently decided she was financially stable enough to take it over. She contemplated calling him, but if he was the one who hid the boxes, it was unlikely she’d get any answers.

“A good researcher should study the evidence first before getting anyone else’s opinion,” she said to Aurellia, before grabbing the most recent journal and easing back down onto the couch. As a once-medical student, the differences in modern medicine and practices a couple thousand years ago were interesting, if not absolutely barbaric. It wasn’t long before she came to a journal entry that left her shaken.

10th of January

Year 437

The unseasonable rain should have warned me of the ominous day to come. It came down morning to night, but until the lanterns were lit everything went as it normally would. I made routine house calls, stitching cuts, checking on broken bones, normal things that small town doctors do. After I got home and had settled in for the night, there was a pounding at the door. A young halfling woman, who I recognized as one of the baroness’ ladies, stared up at me terrified. She informed me that her Lady’s labor had started, which should not have been for another few weeks minimum, but she was insistent on it, so I hurried along with her to the manor.

Never had I seen this household in such chaos. The children sitting on the staircase in the foyer sobbing, servants running back and forth through hallways, nearly knocking each other over in their panic. I was taken to the back room that had been converted into a birthing room for the Baroness. The head maid was already in position, doing exactly as I had instructed her to do when the time came. The Baron’s heavy footfalls were impossible to miss coming in behind me. I stopped him before he could get into the room and attempted to reassure him as best I could, but he was also in distress, so I closed the door in his face and moved to the mother.

She was dilated, but not nearly enough for her to be in as much pain as she was already in. I administered a mild anesthetic, enough to hopefully take the edge off but not affect the fetus, and went on with my examination. It was not long before the blood began to spill. I wasn’t immediately able to find the source of the bleeding, which likely meant there was a tear in the uterine wall. I failed to calm the mother, and there was certainly no way she was birthing in this condition, so I offered a choice to the Baron. We could continue on this path, hope that she dilates enough before she eventually dies of blood loss, or I could go in manually to extract the fetus. I explained the severity of each of the decisions and possible repercussions before I was given permission to attempt to save the baby. Thankfully, and I am fully aware of how callous this will sound, the mother passed out from the blood loss, making the removal of the child far less complex. Premature, but alive. I gave her a swat, and the sound that came from her was music to the ears. At least at first. After I cleaned her off a bit and the maid came over with fresh linen to wrap her, I noticed a slight sheen to the skin, even after drying. I then noted the small bumps just above either temple in the hairline. Upon running my finger along them, I found both of them had very sharp points made of what I can only assume to be bone just starting to protrude from the skin.

I had never delivered a Deviltouched child before. Even the ones I had seen before had never had actual horns, only the eyes and sometimes the perfectly smooth skin that had a slight luminescence to it. I did not want to, but my duty as a citizen of Etos demanded I check, so I opened the child's eyelids. Like purple pools of liquid with silver streaks in them swirling about in such a carefree manner. The tiny white pupils in the scleraless eyes focused on me, and it was as if this child, mere minutes old, was reading my mind. The crying stopped, and I felt a sense of calm in the room. It was as if she knew before I did what I had to do, and she was giving me permission to do so.

I wrapped up the girl and gave the Baron a moment with her before informing the guards outside the residence of the situation. Within minutes, a redheaded halfling woman arrived with a smile that I wish I could carve out of my memory. She expressed such glee in removing the child from her father’s arms. I feel sick at my stomach just writing it down. I need a drink.

“Merk?” Solana called out, subconsciously guarding her belly with her forearm. She certainly would have remembered had they taught mass abductions in school. There were dark and shameful portions of Etosian history, but it was hard to believe anyone would stand for this.

“Hey, you okay?” He was at her feet in moments, much faster than someone his size should be allowed to be.

“Yeah,” she chewed on her lip for a moment before looking up from the pages of the journal. “Have you heard of the Deviltouched?”

“Sounds familiar.” He nodded and sat down on the edge of the couch near her feet. “They died out a long time ago, right? Like Restriction Era?”

Solana nodded, fighting to keep her hands from trembling as she handed the journal to him. “They were kidnapping them. Right out of the womb.”

She watched as his calm visage slowly scrunched into a scowl as he read. While a podcast didn’t make them professional historians, finding a hobbyist as well informed as they were would be nigh impossible. Something this heinous simply swept under the rug was utterly horrifying.

“This is disgusting.” Merkra snapped the journal shut. “Why haven’t I heard anything about this?”

“Neither had I.” She took a deep breath, trying to center herself, but she couldn’t tear her eyes from the leather face of the journal.

Merkra shook his head. “I don’t get it.” He stood up and unstacked the boxes, fingers flipping through the volumes. “This was from the walls? If they wanted to get rid of this stuff, why hide it? Why not just burn it?”

“Let’s not jump to any conclusions yet.” She said, unable to shake the feeling of silver-streaked eyes staring up at her from centuries ago. “We need more research. But this…” She shuddered as she scooped the leather-bound pages back up. “This feels like a story that shouldn’t stay buried.”