Moon (Cherika) Legacies

THE PROPHECY

Samira stared at the bundle in her arms as it cooed softly and yawned. She just kept gazing at him, wrapped in a white soft cotton blanket, surprised at how small he was and fragile he felt in her arms. She took in his features, soft light brown skin, powder-pink lips; eyes shut were a little deep and small. Even though they were shut she knew that his eyes were a mesmerizing blue color that he had inherited from his father. She remembered his eyes and how they had captivated her the first time she had met him. Refusing to sleep she had just watched her newborn, mesmerized by him. "My son..." she whispered gently.

On his right upper arm was the familiar crescent moon birthmark that all the members of his bloodline had. She caressed it gently. Had anyone back home discovered this birthmark he would have been ripped from her arms and executed immediately. She imagined her father would have definitely seen to that and she doubted that any of her family members would have tried to rescue them. Her father, the great King of all of Omorayo and protector of the entire realm. A father that had hunted her done to the outskirts of the very vast empire, promising to punish her for shaming him by having an intimate affair with a commoner. Little did he know that an affair was the least of his worries. She had fled the moment she knew there was a new life within and had done her best to outrun her fathers guards.

The faint ringing of church bells immediately attracted her attention, disturbing her from a sorrowful thoughts. She turned to the window on her left and stared out smiling at the trees the swayed in the breeze. "He is here," she thought to herself and he would finally meet their precious baby boy. She lifted her right hand and gently stroked the baby's forehead, brushing away the few strands of ebony black hair, that he had inherited from her. She attempted to lift him up to her lips for a kiss and immediately gave it up, wincing from the pain that resonated throughout her body. She felt a wave of weakness wash all over her. His little weight suddenly felt heavier in her arms. She strained with great effort to place him on the right side of the bed.

Instantly, the little one began to cry as her sudden movement had awoken him from his slumber. The mid-wife came to the rescue and relieved her of the child.

"You need to rest Samira," she said with emphasis in her tone "You have lost a lot of blood. You must rest, he is not going anywhere," as she rocked the baby in her arms.

Martha was right, she felt it in her body; she was not the same. The birth had been very difficult and took a great toll on her, but it was a price she was willing to pay for him. "No he is not... but I am," she finally responded as if lost in thought. She could feel herself grow weaker. Her energy, physically and spiritually fading just a little more, her lids drooped.

"Come on, we will have no such talk. Not when you have been blessed with such a lovely bunch," she smiled down at the boy. "Look at him..."

"He is gorgeous, isn't he?" she asked slowly,

"Just like his father," Martha chuckled softly

"I had a vision about him last night Martha..." she is immediately cut short by Martha who spins on her hill as she turns to smoothly place the child in the rocking cot-bed.

"No more talk about your visions, all they ever prophesy is doom. And you need to stop talking like this. This is an alien world remember? We cannot trust these people, you know what things they do to what they don't understand. No more talk for now, you need sleep,"

"I was standing beside the lake again and a messenger came to me, the same female messenger with many voices and told me about him," she continued as if Martha had said nothing. She knew she had to tell her the prophecy, her time was almost up and she had little of it left. She needed to let them know, know about his destiny, his destiny to continue the legacy and more,

"She said that from him would be born a child possessing tremendous power, a power that would be even stronger than his, a power that would be derived from both the light and dark. She said that child is the chosen one and a war will break out between the two tribes, a fight to try and claim the child's power. This war will break out here in this world

"How?" Martha asked with concern laced on her face. "We sealed off the last remaining portals, how will they find us?"

"I don't know, but they will. She also said this time it is the child's heart that will choose which of the two sides he will serve..." she drifted off, staring into the distance as if trying to recall the rest of the speech.

"Alright, that's enough. You have done your part. The bells have rung, the ships have docked and Marcus will be here soon and you will need your strength if you are going to argue over the child's name." she tried to bring in some humor, "Rest now dear,"

Martha turned and locked eyes with Samira's and her heart sank.

The woman in the bed attempted a small smile that disappeared as soon as it had formed on her lips. She watched as the twinkle in those smiling eyes faded and they slowly closed. And she knew-she was gone.