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[Queen Sarah]

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The pains started off slowly but grew with intensity. Before dawn Sarah rang for her handmaiden.

“My Lady…” Gladys says as she enters the candle-lit chamber. Stoping in mid-sentence she rushes to Sarah's bedside. Seeing a contraction take hold of the small elven queen, the maiden calmly starts chattering about how babies are a nuisance at times and lawd..this is one of those times. Holding Sarah's sweat sheened body in her arms and rubbing her old hands over the large belly, Gladys rambles on throughout the painful contraction.

After the pain slowly leaves her panting Sarah instructs Gladys to get Lady Sywien, Rufus and the healers. Finding more comfort after the servant leaves, Sarah curls up on her side waiting for the next contraction.

What seems like an eternity Sarah looks up and sees concern in the eyes of her loved ones as they arrive, closing the door gently behind them.

Hours passed, the day fades into night before the cries changed from mother to son.

[Rufus Oryan]

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Rufus stands over the sleeping Queen. Her night had been one filled with the tiring, demanding activity of giving labor. As the shadows danced about her caramel skin, a tear ran down Rufus's right cheek, running down his marking, and falling onto the linens. Through the night, Rufus held Sarah’s hand, knowing that her strength would get her though the pains of labor, and produce an heir to the throne of Nujel’m. Rufus had generated a great level or respect for the strength of a woman throughout this experience, and in the nights end…the strength generated results

Rufus had not slept the entire night. His own recovery from his latest experience with his practice of Spiritmancy had been interrupted to tend to his loving wife and the birth of their child…Rufus did not mind it one bit. He stood, allowing the newborn boy to grip his finger gently in his sleep. Lady Sywien silently crept along Rufus’s side, placing her hand on top of his, “This child will be strong. Crafted from persons wise and strong of will…A prince.” Rufus slowly turned his head to the small elven woman, “Milady, I know what you say is true…our son will be a prize amongst the people, a prophet to the populace…He shall produce grand results from his birth and his inheritance of his parents traits…” Sywien smiled a bit and nodded silently. She parted her lips and whispered, “Then what shall you name him, Rufus?”

A smile grew across Rufus’s lips, he glanced to the sleeping Sarah, and then to the child, speaking softly but in a tone that it resonates through the room,

“Ameer’Najm Oryan. Tis from an ancient text…from the desert tribes of Ilshenar, a group that favor the people of Nujel’m very much…The name Ameer instates in him the title of Prince or Ruler, which I assume is rightful. Najm, meaning, Noble Star of the Faith; for I expect this child to express to the people his philosophies and motivate them in the way I attempt…with spiritual musings and his own understanding of ones self as well as the deities that allow us our existence. Whatever endeavors he delves into, he will shine brightly, commanding attention and respect… Ameer’Najm Oryan…my son.”

Sywien gave Rufus an accepting nod, and patted his hand softly before exiting. He glanced to the sleeping Sarah, only to see a smirk on her face, while she whisper, “…Ameer…. This night would bind the three forever, and increase the love, thus begins the true De’fiona-Oryan lineage…

A prayer carries across the winds about the Golden Isle of Nujel’m:

…In the lands where men question fate and what makes them whole, we ponder what positive results will come from our endeavors. But with thy divine blessings, the creation of life before the souls of men is the motivation to mold nations and craft worlds. To mold the intentions of a people is a task in itself, but the influence of the light within a being is yet another task, all too great. Allow others this blessing in whatever form it may take, allow them to see what thou hast dubbed thine Noble Star of the Faith…as are all lives. Allow them all to be blessed in thy divine will….Amen…
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"Balance - the harmony between the Principles of Order and Chaos...Harmony, Dedication and Rationality, the three Principles of Balance, are our highest ideals."

[Gwendlyn]

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*Gwendlyn watches her neice during the birth from the shadows. Her ancient eyes swollen with tears of joy and happiness. In a soft whisper she speaks in the tongue of the anceint ones...*


Bel'soki henn'a hek'tu ja fe`lizt. Gu'ta o'veza nea`ko...


*...She softly slips deeper into the shadows and disappears before a tear that fell from her cheekhits the palace floor...*
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Imperial Dowerder Empress of the De'Foina Family and Nujel'm,
Gwendlyn De'Foina