A Small Pulse

A small pulse in her belly was all it took for Shadowheart to know. It was a slight thing, easily missed as an over-extension of her abilities and she needed to rest for a short while. But she had cast her healing spells in various situations, many far more dire than just mending a few scratches on Bite after the owlbear found yet another thorn bush to run through, yet but never felt this kind of pulse before.

Her magic flowed through her body as usual when the full-grown owlbear wobbled towards her in the garden holding up its large paws, whimpering as if he was still the cub they had back in camp. She had focused on the wound and envisioned the method to cure it like she had done countless times before. She spoke the proper words, declaring her intent for the magic, and released the gathered power.

It shot through her body like a lightning bolt, surging her with warmth and a flash of pale blue light. The spell engulfed Bite's massive form, closing the wound on its paw along with any other ailments he might have picked up while roaming their land. At its crest, the spell waned, its task completed, and began to fade. That was when Shadowheart felt it.

A small pulse rippled from her stomach. Something in her reacted to the healing spell. Something alive.

Dread poured over Shadowheart like a tempest. Bite hooted and bounced about in elation at his healed paw, shaking the ground and startling the other animals ignorant of Shadowheart's frantic breathing. She scrambled away from the garden and dashed around their moderate stone cottage, not wanting her fear to spread to the animals.

"It's not the illithids. It's not the illithids," she muttered to herself as she sank into the house's shadow. It had become her mantra. A personal prayer she recited more often than her prayers to Selune. Sometimes it helped. Today, it did not.

She found herself back in that damn pod doomed to become a mind flayer, doomed to serve the Elder Brain, doomed to lose herself. Shar's wound stabbed into her skin, the darkness not far behind. The dark she knew well.

"Stop it!" Shadowheart exclaimed. She gripped her dyed silver white hair, her daily reminder when the mantra failed, her reminder that she had made it out, out of the pod, out of the Elder Brain's clutches, out of Shar's grasp. She was free, she was out, she was in the light.

The pain in her hand ebbed. Shadowheart took a few more breaths before calm reestablished itself. She sighed and leaned her head against the cottage, exhausted already, but at least now she could think.

"It's not the illithids," she said again. If it were, she would feel the tadpole squirming about in her skull. Nor was it Shar's wicked spells or tests. She didn't feel sick. Maybe nauseous but no fever or chills. She wasn't poisoned, they grew and were familiar with everything that they ate from the garden. They knew all the shopkeepers in the nearest town and had no quarrel with them.

Shadowheart placed a hand over her belly again and recited the healing spell, focusing on the pulse. It felt...active, something was moving within her, but it didn't feel wicked or malicious or even magical. It felt...natural. Like it was another piece of her growing inside. A piece of her and....

Shadowheart's eyes snapped open.

She trembled. She took a deep breath but trembled again.

Another breath and she laughed.

She laughed until the tears fell.

OOOOOO

She heard Omuzira before she saw him. She had never been so grateful for his heavy steps and lack of aptitude for stealth before now. She doubted she could endure any more surprises. Shadowheart paced their sitting room, circling the small blue carpet that faced their mantle where his adamantine sword and her Selune Spear of Night hung overhead, reminders of their adventures and triumphs. But likely would need to be removed in the coming months.