Awakening, Quickening

Sickening Quickening Part 1

Harmony knew Muse would watch over her...she really didn't even need to ask–it just felt polite to ask. After all, Muse was almost like a person... A very odd, rude, constantly shapeshifting person, but she was loyal; she had to be. Harmony knew that this pregnancy was just as much a shock to Muse, as it was to Harmony–because Muse was part of herself. Harmony still remembered the time when she had felt the research portal twist and break, crashing down on her and cutting a part of her soul from her body; that part had reattached with mana, and become Muse. Whatever had happened to Harmony, had happened to Muse, too; so in a very real sense, Muse was pregnant, too. But oddly, Muse seemed much more like a companion than a part of Harmony. Usually, Muse could stay awake while Harmony slept; she could transform, while Harmony could not; and she could teleport, where Harmony could not. She 'felt' what Harmony felt, but not as strongly or as deeply. But whatever had placed Harmony into that tomb, it was not a natural sleep. Some dark magic had put them both there, something that was so near to death, it might as well have been it.

Watching the firelight, Harmony's eyes fluttered closed, and her thoughts blurred. Finally she slept, lulled by the soft snapping of the campfire and the overbearing weariness of her long day. Slept, and dreamed....

darkness....a pale light...and the grave ledge, hard under her body...

a pale, narrow presence nearby. It was colorless, and oddly blurred;

somehow, it made a movement that was a kind of stillness in itself.
she felt her body was being lifted; she flopped like a rag doll, not stiff like the dead.

then she was set down, arms and legs straightened.

A shadow crossed the light, heaved and buckled...reached down.

She heard a sharp gasp, but not her own;

She had no breath to gasp, no heartbeat, to beat fast.

Her skin felt chilled, sticky, waxy; she couldn't move.

A part of her mind wondered, am I dead?

then came a faint eerie sensation of being touched,

and a sudden wetness... the feeling of her body being pushed forward...

then pushed into, by another body, over and over.

A sound of someone groaning, and a clawlike hand,

clasping desperately at her flesh, scratching, tearing at her.

but still, there was no pain, nothing other than these faint sensations,

as if her body were too far away.

Harmony felt calm, detached...this wasn't her, she thought; this was just her body, whatever was happening couldn't hurt her. She was cold, and high above this, watching this from afar, free from fear or pain or rage.
And still the shadow heaved, and the pushing sensation continued...and then, as suddenly as it started, the sensation withdrew. Something lifted her body back onto the grave-shelf, covered her, and moved away... As it did, the light also left, fading palely away, leaving nothing but a deep greyness, and a soft sadness...a soft nothingness.

The part of Harmony that was self-aware, realized this must have been a memory, this dream. She clung to it, feeling disgusted, sick, telling herself to be angry, that this was wrong, wrong, and she needed to remember.. needed to feel, to hate...
But the hate faded, and there was nothing more to remember; only grayness, paleness, and cold. Then it, too, faded away...

Suddenly there were bright lights, blasts of rainbow color, swirling, popping, soundless explosions in front of her face, in every shade and color...and a feeling of being shocked, heat, unbearable heat. Is the Mecha back? Harmony thought; it felt like blades slicing into her, Burning her,

burning, hot, HOT, AH, OW, OUCH—

Harmony woke with a start and a gasp. The pain in her stomach had returned, taking her breath, making her hiss and coil with the force and depth of it. The curling sensation was replaced now with a rippling, rolling like a wave of boiling lava, pouring over her from head to toes, over, and over. She retched and then vomited, bringing up the fish, and desperately rolled onto her knees, trying to avoid the mess, the stench of it, but the pain forced her back down onto her face, elbows on the ground, fumbling.

She couldn't breathe. I'm dying! she thought. On all fours, she rocked, belly beneath her, trying to feel her way through this, to stop it somehow. She saw Muse stood beside her, in elf-form again. Muse placed a soft hand on her neck, holding back her hair. Then Muse's thought reached her, like a breath of cool air, sucking away a bit of the pain.

It's ok. Deep breath...You're having a baby. You can do this. We can do this.