Alithia wished she was awoken by the sunlight gleaming onto her face, or the morning winds dancing through the treetops. Sometimes, Mother would wake her with her songs. Her voice always weaved tales of love and starlight, painting the world in rain and sunshine. 

This morning, however, Alithia woke to wailing.

Mother’s labor was rough the night before. The seemingly endless amount of blood still stained the blankets underneath, a mark of the horrors Alithia hadn't imagined. Mother still somehow remained calm throughout the ordeal, calmer than Alithia. Alithia did not want to imagine what could have transpired if Mother didn’t instruct her through every step.

By nightfall, they were miles from home. Fatigue clinged onto Mother, and with her being in no condition to travel, Alithia had set up camp. She tucked herself next to Mother with her newborn sister between. Mother had worried of a lynx snatching her up in the middle of the night.

Alithia craddled Eladrel in her arms as she screamed, hoping the gentle rocking would calm her down. Yet Little Ela’s screams only seemed to worsen. Alithia spared Mother a glance. She was still dead asleep, and could perhaps gain a few more hours of rest if only Little Ela would stop.

So, Alithia resorted to the one method she knew would work – song. She sang an old hymn Mother would sing to her often when Alithia was a mere infant. She said it was from the old days, long before the Quel’dorei settled in Quel'thalas, even before Azeroth broke in the Sundering. The hymn was of Father Sun and Mother Moon’s yearning for one another, their love a dance across the sky. Yet they were unable to touch unless they wished for the world to fall into darkness. But they loved their children of the world more than they loved one another, and chose to part ways. 

As the last notes faded on Alithia's lips, a hush fell over the campsite. Eladrel's cries subsided, replaced by the gentle rhythm of her breathing. Relief washed over Alithia. She leaned down, pressing a kiss to her sister's forehead. Warmth.

“I think you'd be proud of me, Mother,” whispered Alithia, looking back over at Mother’s sleeping form. But a sliver of unease gnawed at her. Something felt…wrong.

Alithia brushed a stray strand of hair from Mother’s face, her touch lingering a moment too long. Cold. A jolt of terror coursed through her veins. Her frantic gaze darted to Mother's chest, the rise and fall that signaled life absent. Alithia scrambled for a pulse, her trembling fingertips finding only a chilling stillness.

A strangled sound escaped her lips, a whimper that morphed into a choked sob. The urge to scream clawed at her throat, but she smothered it, the need to shield Eladrel from the pain as the only logic Alithia could process.

“Mother.” Alithia rasped, her voice barely whisper.

Silence. 

“Minn’da!”

The deafening, suffocating silence stretched into eternity.

Tears streamed down Alithia’s face, each sob pulling at her chest. She started tapping at Mother, then shaking her. Her sobbing grew in volume, and when she realized Mother was not going to wake, she held her and cried until there were no tears left.

Alithia didn't know how much time passed until she stopped. It did not matter. All she could feel was the despair, then the emptiness, then the guilt. How long has she slept, nestled besides her dying mother? The question hung unanswered, a horrifying possibility she couldn't bear to contemplate. 

Perhaps if Alithia had followed Mother’s directions more closely the night previously, she'd still be here. Or perhaps if she insisted Mother to stay at the inn dozens of miles back. Perhaps then, she would still be here. If only Alithia had done better.

But you can still be better, said a voice in the back of her mind.

Her gaze drifted to the babe still blissfully asleep in her bundles. A fragile smile grew on her lips through her dried tears. Little Ela, so new, so precious.

Alithia wanted nothing more than to protect that forever.

“I’ll be better for you, Eladrel,” Alithia vowed, her voice thick with emotion. “I have to be.”