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[Dealthagar]

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The slate colored winter sky grew dark. The snow was coming; the Technocrat could feel it in his cogs. Barking orders in the bastardized blend of Abyssal and Gargish the Awakening had adopted as their internal language, Dealthagar's violet eyes narrowed in consternation. The manor would be spared from winter, but the enchantments and greenhouse in the tower had to be completed quickly if they were going to maintain a decent growing season. The drones were skilled, but the lack of imagination they showed was the one flaw with the Mark VII's.

He could artificially synthesize virtually anything else, but by not mining the Well for souls, even the best of automatons lacked that spark. Creativity and imagination...these were the hallmarks of humanity.

The blue crystal on his bracelet lit up and began to blink. “Sularis! Keep them at it.” Noting the blood red gargoyle’s nod, he disappeared in a flash of reagents and mana to reappear in front of the manor. Bolting up the steps, he tossed his cloak at the housekeeper.

He burst into his chambers. The enchantments to keep the room comfortable were still in place, but the tired smile and sweat on Ceinwyn’s face told him everything. “How long?”
She rubbed her swollen belly. “I waited to call you until I was sure it wasn’t another false alarm.” The gargish maids left with a handful of soiled sheets as others came in with handfuls of clean linens and towels. “Then my water broke.”
He smiled and began removing his robes. “I’ll get changed and see if we can’t bring this little girl into the world.”

--==--==--

The labor had been far less taxing than Dealthagar had expected. Then again, everything about the pregnancy had been easier. It was as if the world, nature or even the cosmos needed this child. Now, the tiny girl lay nursing, cradled in her mother’s arms. She had her mother’s pale skin and delicately pointed ears and the shock of white hair that both parents bore when he didn’t dye his own red.

She hadn’t cried when she came into the world, just opened her violet eyes and looked around, as if surveying her new surroundings, before giving a small grunt. As she nursed, she gripped his golden finger keeping his hand close to her body.

“Cerys.” Ceinwyn sleepily murmured the name. “Her name should be Cerys.”

Dealthagar wiped his wife’s forehead with a clean cloth in his free hand. “Then it is so. Welcome to the world, Cerys ab’Arawn.”

Ceinwyn kissed his hand before closing her eyes. “Ab’Amudosa. This is our family, your household. Not my father’s. As you say, we make our own destiny, our own future.”

Dealthagar kissed his wife’s forehead before rising and allowing her and the child to sleep. “Cerys ab’Amudosa.” He chuckled as he closed the door behind him. He had ruled over men, conquered nations and cut swathes through his enemies, crushing them under his boot heel. The satisfaction paled to the feeling in his heart. He had created life from nothing, grown armies in vats, rebuilt trusted servants from ashes, but it was nothing to the life he and his wife had brought into the world.

The only magic it had taken was true love.
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The Three Truths of Singularity
Do something to the best of your abilty or don't do it at all
Feel to the fullest of your ability, cutting yourself off from your emotions leads to spiritual death
Control your being, your existance, your destiny.
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