[ Old World – Blackmoon Colony – Inner Camp]
The air inside the birthing tent was heavy.
Not warm. Not cold. Just thick…too full of tension and commotion…as if the shadows in the corners were breathing alongside everyone inside. The smell of boiled herbs, sweat, and blood clung to every thread of the canvas walls.
Another piercing moan cut through, followed by a ragged gasp.
Then another scream followed…sharp, shuddering, drawn from the bottom of Lyla's lungs.
Her back was arched against the thin pallet, fingers clawing at the rough blanket beneath her. The muscles in her neck stood out like taut cords, veins bulging under skin that was already slick with sweat.
"Hold her still…!" one of the midwives barked, pushing a rolled cloth into Lyla's palm. "Bite if you have to, my lady!"
Lyla shook her head violently, her hair plastered to her temples. "I can't…oh goddess…!" Her voice cracked into another scream as her whole body spasmed.
