NOVEL NEXT Chapter 51: The Birth
Daeranyx POV
After whispering some comforting words into Aemma's ear, I began to cast diagnostic spells on her without a wand. The results were as I had seen in a series from my past life; the child's head was positioned in the opposite direction, not ready to come out. This unexpected outcome, coupled with the intermittent, acute pain Aemma was experiencing, indicated that the child cannot come out even though it was time. Immediately after that, Aemma's cries filled the room, raw with pain and endurance. However, Vezofina wasted no time and began to sing, which somewhat eased Aemma's pain.
I glance at Viserys, whose gaze has not left me since I cast the diagnostic spell on Aemma. Seated on the opposite side of the bed, his complexion is ashen, hands quivering as he watches his beloved wife suffer through the excruciating pains of childbirth once more. The look in his eyes betrays a faltering faith, and as our eyes meet, the hope and trust etched on his face reveal his awareness of the grave situation, and his belief that only my magic can rescue her.
"Aemma," I whispered, "I understand the intensity of your pain and the child's struggle. Trust in my ability to alleviate it, for I have pledged to protect both you and the child. When I instruct you to push, do so with belief in your strength, and together, we will succeed in getting you and the child out of this situation."
Aemma, gasping for breath, managed to nod, her eyes meeting mine with a spark of hope and trust, surpassing that of Viserys. It was a delicate trust, yet it was earned through my recent demonstrations of expertise in magic and compassion in recent weeks.
I knelt beside her, drawing cooling herbs from a pouch and these herbs are made of Bloodstem roots, slightly infused with blood magic to boost their effectiveness. These had been in my possession since my return from Skagos, where I performed a ritual on Anarion and had some Bloodstem roots remaining. I placed a hand on Aemma's belly, sensing the tension under my fingers, the struggle of both mother and child. Whispering the spell, Evgardio Qringon—Calm the Strife—I coaxed her body to soften the contractions for a moment, allowing her a much-needed respite. This spell, crafted by me specifically for this moment, proved to be effective.
As Aemma's breathing became steady, I reached into the pouch once more, retrieving a shimmering dragon glass powder, which I had prepared for such moments. Placing it above her womb, I channelled its energy to calm and fortify, aiding the life inside. I'm not sure which method was the most effective, but Aemma now seemed more relaxed. At this point, I would require the assistance of midwives, as my expertise does not extend to childbirth. All I could do was position the child correctly and allow the midwives to proceed with their work. Should complications arise, I have brought phoenix tears, and Vezofina is present as well.
"Keep breathing," I whispered, my voice steady, like a soothing chant. "Your strength is akin to that of dragons, and now I will channel an energy into you, you will be able to feel that. So that's why I'm telling you do not resist, Aemma, can you hear me? Do not resist the energy. Yes, it will be painful, but once the child is correctly positioned, this will all be over swiftly."
With steady hands, I directed warmth into her core, aligning my magic with the child within, coaxing it to turn. Yet, the effort was immense; this was no typical birth, nor was the child ordinary. The magical energy within the child and Aemma was palpable, surpassing any I had encountered with the Targaryens or Velaryons. Whether this magic stemmed from the circumstances or the child's uniqueness was unclear. Thus, I began to channel my magic as I would with Dragons, gently and without malice. Despite little success, I contemplated resorting to an alternative spell I had devised for such an event.
I removed my hand from Aemma's belly and cast another spell: Anapneo Exhaurio—Clear the Path. It was a subtle act, but my intention was to alleviate the pressure on her womb, aiding Aemma's body in guiding the child. I cannot claim to have invented this spell from scratch as I did with Evgardio Qringon, for I merely adapted the existing spell Anapneo to meet my needs. Anapneo is a healing spell and charm that clears the target's airway by making whatever they are choking on disappear. The spell I used on Aemma was designed to clear the path, allowing the child some movement in this situation.
Although the spell partially worked, the task remained incomplete as the head was not correctly aligned. I replaced my hand to its previous position and resumed guiding the magic to complete the spell's unfinished work. Minutes passed, and Aemma's screams became unbearable, prompting me to glance at Vezofina and nod. Vezofina's blue flames then enveloped Aemma, silencing her screams instantly. The first thing Aemma did was look down to check if the child had been born. Realizing the situation, she began to curse me for not acting sooner. I'm sure the Maesters outside must have been utterly bewildered, hearing for the first time the laughter of a birthing woman coupled with her sweet vows of vengeance on someone other than her spouse.
I took a gulp and continued my work, as Aemma's plans for revenge were something I never expected such a kind woman to conceive. Women can be frightening in these types of situations. Viserys emerged from the shock he had succumbed to upon witnessing Aemma's body ablaze with blue fire. His eyes were as wide as saucers, a sight so memorable I must ensure to preserve it for future viewing in the Pensieve. The midwives, being members of Aemma's household, do not pose much of an issue; however, I would have preferred to keep Vezofina's abilities secret. Since she often travels openly, it could be perilous if knowledge of her abilities were to spread. Lords and commoners of Westeros would undoubtedly covet the healing bird for themselves, or it could provoke schemes from the Maesters who disdain their potential replacement.
After Vezofina's healing flames, process went smooth and in some minutes the child is in right direction for the child to come out. So, I stood up from there and made space for midwives to do their work.
"I have done all I can on my part. Now it's all up to you to deliver the child safely," I said to the midwives before making my way toward Viserys to assure him that Aemma was out of danger. After placing my hand on his shoulder and offering a few words, Viserys's expression softened, and he began to encourage Aemma alongside the midwives. I waited for the child's arrival, knowing my work here was not yet finished. In time, Aemma safely delivered the child, as Vezofina continued her use of healing flames, leaving Aemma with only the task of pushing the child out. The process involved no loud screaming; the midwives cut the umbilical cord and gently stimulated the child to ensure it was alive, as there was no crying upon its emergence from the womb.
Although the child's cry was weak, as if his lungs were not fully developed, Aemma, upon hearing it, commanded the midwives to bring her son to her. Once the child was in his mother's arms, Aemma began to gently rub him and check his condition, hoping to prevent the fate that befell her previous stillborn child. As Aemma and Viserys wept together, I stepped forward and drew a phoenix tear from my pouch.
I could command Vezofina to heal the child and conserve the tear, yet I am uncertain of the effects such potent magic might have on a newborn. The magic I sensed from Aemma and his son vanished as soon as the child was born, and the infant's magical reserves are akin to those expected from a squib lineage. Hence, I chose a phoenix tear, whose value to me has diminished after witnessing the healing flames. Vezofina's restorative powers are surpassing my expectations. I knelt beside the bed where the realm's two sovereigns wept, and gently administered the phoenix tear into the wailing child's mouth.
The effects were not immediate, but after a minute and a few hiccups, the child's wailing grew louder and began to sound like that of a healthy child. I also observed that the tears had not only improved the child's lungs but his entire physique seemed better than at birth. He appeared much healthier. The loud wailing caught the attention of his parents, who ceased their tears. With grateful nods and smiles brimming with joy—a reward for all my efforts—they began to dote on the newly born heir to the Iron Throne.
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