Her screams could have awakened the dead in the woods of Elorean, as Morelanor Estelondo pushed again, her labour painful and arduous.

Inside the hut, Aranellevanima held her daughter's hand as she felt Morelanor's life force ebbing from blood loss. The labour had gone on for six hours so far and tears moistened the cheeks of both daughter and mother as both knew that she would die in labour.

Outside the hut, Saironelloistya was trying to hold Saironellotoron II back from forcing his way into the small hut. Saironelloistya was misty-eyed, holding back his tears, but Saironellotoron II's tears flowed freely down his dimly lit face.

"Please," he begged, looking his father-in-law in the eyes. "Please, I just want to hold her hand. She should not suffer alone! I beg you, from son to father, let me go to my wife."

Saironelloistya's voice was hoarse and low, from his barely restrained emotions. "My son, husband of one I love, you do not want to go in. I know you love her, but your empathy for her is so strong that if you see her like this, your pain will never cease. Aranellevanima will handle this, and you will have your son."

Saironellotoron II glared down, before charging for the tent, barely being caught by Saironelloistya. Saironellotoron II was moments from cursing the gods themselves as he replied "My son, yes. But you know, as well as I do, that my wife, your daughter, will not walk out of that hovel." At that moment, Morelanor let out another scream of agony, and Saironellotoron screamed out, "Morelanor!"

Saironelloistya lowered his head, and said, "I cannot let you in. Your wife, my daughter, has ordered that you remain out here until it is all over."

Aranellevanima's voice rang out as they continued bickering. "Let him in, Saironelloistya. The time has come."

Saironellotoron ran into the hut. A weakened Morelanor turned her head toward him, pain, evident in her green eyes, but the pain could not dim their vibrant light, that struck him in the heart every time he saw it. "My... Love?" She took a breath and whispered, her voice quiet from the pain and her screaming. "Where... are... our children?"

Saironellotoron II smiled despite it all, as he knelt next to her, his boots quickly becoming covered in her blood. "They are with my parents, my love." He glanced around the hut, his eyes locking with Aranellevanima, who shook her head in response to his silent question. "I love you, Morelanor, Dark Star of Meneltarma. I will always love you."

She smiled in return, and replied, "I love you too, Saironellotoron, you are closer to me than anyone in this world, and I will always love you, melmënya."

Aranellevanima, who had been quiet up until this point, reached over, took their hands in hers, and quoted: "The love of an elf lasts forever." She nodded towards the door, "I will give you some time alone together." With that, she walked out of the small building.

Morelanor chose that moment to push, knowing it would be her last, and Saironellotoron felt her pain, as her shriek rocked the foundation of the building. He looked at her, and noticed two little feet, coming out of her genitalia, and he quickly shouted, "I see its feet!"

Aranellevanima did not reappear though, and the blood flowed from Morelanor more freely. She shook her head at him, and cried out, with one last push, "Tyelnya nase hí! My end is here!"

She looked at Saironellotoron, and put her bloody hand to his cheek, as he brought the baby to her. She inhaled and screamed, "Hínase le anna eva métimafoanya!"

Saironellotoron II lowered his head, knowing that what she said meant "Here is the gift of my last breath!" With that, her chest deflated, her body slumped, and the light in her eyes which she had been named for, faded into darkness.

Saironellotoron II stood there unmoving for a moment, his mind full of memories of love, fury, laughter, and most of all hope, as he looked at the corpse of his wife. She who had born him children; had comforted him in the night, and had been the childhood friend he had fallen in love with. He stood, motionless, as the baby began to breathe, and cry out.

He stared down at the crying baby in his hands, his memory registering its face for the first time. He pulled out his dagger, and after cutting the umbilical cord, he stared at it, in wonder but heartbreak, because the gift his wife died to give him seemed so small and insignificant.

After one last kiss on his wife's brow, he walked out of the hut. He carefully handed the infant to Aranellevanima, who in spite of her tears, managed to spit out, "What is his name?"

Saironellotoron II turned around and pointed to the hut, where the still warm corpse of his wife lay at peace. "She said 'metímafoanya.'" He paused and glanced at the child in his mother-in-law's arms. "He is, her Last Breath."

Seven months earlier, Morelanor and Saironellotoron II stood in the woods of Elorean watching Faramaureá, Percival, and Orónëminya playing a strange game of make-believe, in which Faramaureá was the queen, Orónëminya was her champion, and Percival was some sort of adversary. They had sticks that they had found on the ground, and Faramaureá was shouting encouragements to both of them as they strove to win their duel.

Saironellotoron looked on with concern. "This doesn't seem safe, Meldënya."

Morelanor glared at him with insincere reproach. "Are you telling me that you never did this as a child? Besides," she said with a teasing smile, "If one of them does get hurt, it's not like we don't have another one on the way." She rested her hand on her belly, and turned back toward the children, who were still fighting, though judging by the way Percival was holding a hand behind his back, Orónëminya was gaining the upper-hand.

"You can't go around saying things like that, Morelanor." Still, he smiled in spite of his words, and Morelanor gave him a quick kiss.

"I will say whatever I feel like saying," she said as she walked toward the children. The children stopped and looked at her, as she knelt down beside the throne. "Do you mind if I join in?" She asked, picking up a small stick, and casting a backward glance at her husband, who simply smiled and shook his head.

The two oldest shrugged, after a fleeting look toward each other in which they silently communicated, as they so often did, but Faramaureá crossed her arms defiantly. "No. This is our game, and I'm the queen, so I make the rules."

Morelanor laughed, and with a glint in her eye, she teased "And would our new queen like some Ice Cream when she gets back to the castle? I know her mother would?"

"Morelanor, are you blackmailing our children?" Saironellotoron said with a laugh, not surprised in the slightest bit by her actions.

"No," she said, turning toward him, "I'm just offering an incentive. Through bribery." She returned to Faramaurá, who seemed to have a remarkably changed disposition. "What do you say, Dawn Hunter?"

Faramaureá not only nodded; but she also jumped up of the throne and took up her own stick. Percival held his up defensively, and Orónëminya followed his example, but Faramaureá charged immediately, swinging chaotically at her mother, who deflected her blows with a mischievous grin. With a signal to each, the two eldest children jumped to their sister's aid and began to attack her mother as well, but in a moment, she felt her husband at her side, with a stick of his own.

"Need a hand?"

"I have two of my own, but I could use another pair."

For an hour and a half, they all played together, fighting and duelling, all five of them receiving scrapes and scratches, except for Morelanor, who Saironellotoron II protected with great tenacity for the unborn child's sake...

Saironellotoron II snapped awake the next morning, pulled from his deep sleep by the hand of a servant boy. He looked over at the empty side of his bed and turned back to the boy. "What is required of me?" he asked, his voice hollow and disappointed.

"Beggin' your pardon, mi'lord, but the King has issued a summons to the Royal Family, and I was sent to get you."

"So be it. I will attend them shortly." He lay back down on the bed, and rested his hand on Morelanor's pillow. As the servant boy left, he reached over an picked a long, red hair up off of her pillow, and held it in the palm of his hand. He clutched it close to his heart, and for the first time since her death, he allowed his tears to flow.

. . .

When he arrived in his father-in-laws bed chamber, he noticed that all eight of his siblings, his four children, Metimafoa bundled in his sister, Nimloth II's arms, and his father were already there. That made everyone except for Aranellevanima. Seeing the question in his son's eyes, Saironelloistya held up a hand. "That will be addressed momentarily."

Turning toward the entire group he said: "Much of what I am about to say is known to some of you, but none of what I am about to say is known to all of you. First, I would like to say that hard times have befallen this family. Last night, Morelanor, my daughter, and your sister, paid the ultimate price for bringing for life into this world. She died to give birth to a son, the newly christened Metimafoa. But all of you already know that."

"Second, this morning, my wife, and a mother to all of you, did not awaken from her slumber. She passed gently into the night." Saironelloistya glanced back at his bed, where the curtains around it were drawn to completely conceal its interior. "The Queen of Meneltarma is dead."

The cries of the Royal Family would forever be seared into Percival's memory. He would always remember, and be haunted by the days surrounding his mother's death. But, even in this time of darkness and trial, one thing gave him hope and solidarity: the emotional restraint of his grandfather. Throughout the encounter, Saironelloistya hid away his pain, and in doing so he showed Percival that the Line of Estelondo, the Line of his Mother and Father, was strong and that it could survive any hardship.

The Aunts and sisters of Percival started weeping, and most of the men started shouting in rage, and confusion, but Percival, Saironellotoron II, and Saironelloistya all stood perfectly still, except Percival, who was still on his knees. Eventually, the uproar died down, and Nimloth II helped Percival to his feet, before embracing him and holding him in her arms.

Saironellotoron II frowned, but he turned to his family, and exclaimed, "Brothers, Sisters, and Children, strife has hit this family, but we cannot let it consume us. The people need our help, and regardless of our emotions, we have a responsibility to them. " He whirled around, his white and silver cloak catching the air, and he spoke in a commanding tone, to his Father-in-law. "Saironelloistya, you especially have a responsibility to the people, as the King of this land! You-" Saironelloistya raised a hand, and cut him off.

Saironelloistya looked at his Son-in-law and concluded: "That Is the final thing on my agenda. As of 12:00 WTT today, I am resigning from my position as King of Meneltarma, and my Heir, Saironellotoron II, will take control of the kingdom. I will see you all at the coronation. You are all dismissed. I think it is time I spend some time with my wife, which I did not do enough, while she was alive." With that, Saironelloistya went, and lay down by his wife, closing the bed veil behind him.

As they all cleared out, mourning, and in shock, Orónëminya pulled on Saironellotoron II's robe, with Percival at her side, having escaped from Nimloth II's grasp. He knelt down by them and acknowledged her. "Yes, my love?"

She looked perturbed and questioned, "What time is it?"

Saironellotoron smiled, and answered, "It is probably around 9:45 WTT, my daughter." He scooped her up in his arms.

She glanced down at her brother and pointed to the window. "Then why is it still dark out?"

Dear Readers,

This is an expansion on a three-part One-Shot(That doesn't sound any more intelligent no matter how many times as I say it.) This is the beginning of the prologue, which will be two parts. The rest of the story, I will attempt to fit into eight parts, so that it totals ten parts because I have minor OCD. Anyway, I recommend reading this before the Three-part One-Shot(still sounds unintelligent.), Because it will be a more complete version of it. If you wish to know more about the world, read Chapter 1, and Chapter 17, of The Chronicles of Saironelloistya. Either way, I hope you enjoy, and I will release the next chapter shortly.

Sincerely,

Isaiah Joel Oakley Le Istya.