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Minutes feel like hours. And every minute, I push through the pain with the memory of my first child’s face. I know that the complications caused by a Zvori pregnancy are almost eliminated by going through the mating ceremony, but I still can’t help but worry.
After being pushed through the process one more time, Zkovia pulls another large Zvori child out of me.
I start to wonder what we’re going to name them. Giving a name to them at all almost feels trivial, because there are no words to convey the miracle that they are to me. We had already settled on Sapphus for a boy, after Zephiro’s grandfather, but we weren’t expecting twins.
Honestly, I’m not sure that I expected to live through this. I thought something would go horribly wrong.
Our second child is whisked away right as the first is brought back to us, having undergone the rituals.
With how much Zephiro paces around the hut, I think he really just wants to be back home, where he knows he can help and be with his children in peace.
“I’m incredibly appreciative of what you’ve done, Zkovia. Thank you,” Zephiro says. “But will we be able to go home soon?”
But Zkovia is still standing beside me, analyzing me carefully.
“I think you can tell, Zephiro, and I’m sorry,” Zkovia says. “Her hormone levels are still elevated, and they’re not dropping.”
“What does that mean?” I ask.
Zkovia looks at me, and I start to worry before realizing that he’s not wearing a look of concern but of wonder.
“In a human pregnancy, this might be normal,” Zkovia says. “Your hormone levels stay elevated for a while. Your stomach takes time to shrink.”
I hang on Zkovia’s every word, just listening to the calm wind and the waking village outside.
“But you’re not done yet,” Zkovia says.
“What are you talking about?” Zephiro asks. “Clearly, she’s done. She’s had twins. We haven’t had Zvori twins in…”
“...either of our lifetimes, no,” Zkovia says. “It’s been a millennium, at least.”
Zkovia meets my eyes. “What I really need you to do is push one more time,” Zkovia says. “There’s another child inside of you.”
I’m struggling to think straight. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore,” I say.
But Zephiro interjects.
“Yes, you can,” he says, while Jennil cleans my second child. “What you’re doing is miraculous, and there’s nobody stronger than you in this entire village.”
He returns to me once more, clutching my hand even harder.
“So, not just for me, but for the sake of the better world we’re going to build together, can you please fight a little longer?”
I close my eyes, take a deep breath one more time, and start pushing.
I try not to think about how vulnerable I feel or the doubts that cycle through my mind.
Am I really going to be a good mother? How do we thrive in a world filled with the cruelty of dark elves?
I hear screaming again, but it’s not the harsh, roaring scream of a Zvori.
It’s the scream of a human child.
And I start to panic.
“Something’s wrong, Zephiro,” I say through labored breathing. “I swear I didn’t –”
“The odds of a female child being Zvori are extremely low,” Zkovia says, reassuring me. “Most female children are humans, like you.”
