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For days now, a tiny little peeping sound was coming from the last egg to remain alive in this clutch. Barely audible, she almost had to strain to hear it at times. The egg would wobble slightly, even if Hornet herself was entirely still, movements that signified the child within was alive and healthy. Using the Weavelight as a light source, Hornet carefully peered into the inside of the egg. Though it didn’t give the clearest picture, it allowed her to observe the shadowy form of the child within.
Her heart clenched as she saw a mask so similar to her own, small, but no less beautiful. Her child was smaller than they should be at this stage of development, but she chalked that up to her own malnutrition before she had laid it. Her child was curled up within the confines of their egg, but she could see them slowly feeling out the shell keeping them from the rest of the world.
With a quiet sigh, Hornet put the Weavelight away, holding this egg close to her heart. She had been burned at this stage before, the hatchling within passing during the night while she slept, so she had learned to temper her hopes. Still, she couldn’t help but feel the warmth of her unborn child and imagine a future in which she was able to greet her children as they took their first breaths.
Countless eggs from dozens of clutches long turned to ash in the wind, and partners she barely remembered the faces of, though the love she shared with them remained. She does not remember when she first desired to have a child, but it has been her one wish for countless years. Over and over again she’d lose the children within the eggs she’d lay, little lives snuffed before they had the chance to live, though she had done everything she could to allow her children to thrive.
Why must I always fail? Am I not good enough? Why-
Her thoughts are cut short when a tiny crack resonates through the quiet air, and all of her attention is focused on the egg in her palms. A tiny hairline fracture mars the otherwise pristine expanse, and the small wiggling of the egg lets her know that it was her own child who caused the crack. A rush of… something, flows through Hornet. Hope? Affection? Fear? She can’t quite tell, but her heart starts racing in anticipation. This is the furthest a child of hers has ever gotten, and she hopes beyond all hope that maybe, just maybe, this one will finally be the one.
Shakra. She needs Shakra, right now. She’ll know what to do to prepare for this.
Carefully, three of her hands gently wrap around the egg, her fourth holding onto her needle like a lifeline. She cradles her unhatched child against her chest, and takes off running, searching for the cartographer who’s made her time in Pharloom so much easier to bear.
Shapes and colors pass by in a blur as she searches for the rings left behind in the cartographer’s wake. Cavern after cavern she flew, expertly dodging haunted flora and fauna alike, pushing herself to go just a little bit faster, a little bit farther. The blood rushing in her ears was only matched by the tiny little noises her child made from within their shell.
The soothing melody of Shakra’s call echo through the air, and Hornet immediately races towards it like a moth drawn towards flame. She almost certainly startles the taller bug with the shout of her name, but Hornet could not care less, not right now.
“Poshanka, Hornet wielding Needle. From your current state, may I presume that something has happened with the last egg?” As always, Shakra’s steadfast demeanor gave Hornet a lifeline to focus on when her own brain was caught in emotional turmoil.
It took a few seconds for Hornet to catch her breath before she attempted to speak, “Shakra, I, it… I think the egg might be about to hatch.”
Shakra crouched down to meet Hornet at her own eye level, “And what do you require of me, at this most crucial of times?”
“I, I don’t know. I’ve never had a child even start to hatch before… I don’t know what to do.”
“Were there no other young in your homeland for you to interact with?”
“The last time anyone in my homeland had a newly hatched child, I was still a child myself. I was kept away from those who were hatching as I didn’t understand at the time that a newborn was not a candidate to play with,” Hornet’s voice took on a distinctly embarrassed tone.
“It is hard to imagine one such as yourself in such a position. Nonetheless, we must first create a safe environment, to give the child inside whatever time it requires. We must also see to any needs that may arise during the hatching, as while rare, complications can occur. Now, do you have a safe place in mind?”
“The residents of the town of bells were kind enough to grant me a dwelling, though I do not tend to use it very often. Would such a place suffice?”
“It shall work well for our purposes. Now, come. We don’t have much time to waste,” Shakra rises to her full height, and extends a hand to Hornet. Wrapping her needle’s loop around her wrist, Hornet takes the offered hand, and together the two set off.
Everything was ready. Guided by Shakra’s knowledge, Hornet prepared a suitable little nest in the middle of her Bellhome’s bed. The previous owner of the Bellhome had an absurd amount of pillows, which worked out perfectly for her needs right now.
The egg lay propped up between two pillows, crack facing upwards. In the time it took to set everything up, a few more cracks appeared on the surface of the shell, though her child did not manage to pierce through just yet.
A thousand thoughts ran through her head, a million “what-if’s”. What if her child gets stuck? What if they grow tired and fail to hatch? What if they impale themselves on a shard of eggshell?
Shakra could only watch as the hunter cloaked in red paced nervously around the floor of the Bellhome, body too full of nervous energy to stay still for very long. Up and down the length of what little floor there was, over and over again.
“-net”
Will she be a good mother? Can she be a good mother?
“-rnet!”
What if she ends up hurting her child with her inexperience? What if her child gets taken? This kingdom is extremely hostile, a baby has no place here-
“HORNET!”
She hadn’t even noticed the taller bug walk up to her until she gave her a good shake, “Have you not heard a single word I have said?”
The silence in the Bellhome was louder than any words could possibly be.
Shakra sighs, “Hornet Wielding Needle, I know you are nervous, and rightfully so, but if you continue on like this you will miss your child emerging!”
Hornet couldn’t look at her, staring at the floor in embarrassment. Shakra softened, and gave the shorter woman a loose hug.
“I’m sure you do not want to miss your child coming into the world, and I do not want you to regret missing it. Whatever goes on in that head of yours needs to pause before you wind up with many regrets.”
Hornet looked back at her, “… I suppose you’re right… I just can’t help but worry that I’ll do the wrong thing and hurt them”
“A reasonable fear, but one that must be set aside for the time being. Look, the cracks have widened significantly. I think they may finally be able to try and break through any moment now,” Shakra gently led Hornet to sit on the bed, sitting beside her but out of the way. This is Hornet’s moment, not her own.
Cracks spiderwebbed the shell, minuscule little holes already having caved in, though none were big enough to use to see inside of the egg. It wiggled as her child moved within, a small but regular tapping sounding from where her child’s claws met shell. Her child was not silent during this process, making a high pitched, but very quiet noise throughout.
“Shakra, correct me if I’m wrong, but hatchlings are supposed to make more noise when hatching, correct?” Hornet’s gaze remained steadfast on the egg, body hovering just far enough away to not crowd it.
Shakra nodded, even though Hornet couldn’t see it from her field of vision, “You would be correct. A healthy hatchling should be making more noise. It has not been that long since you delivered the clutch… I fear the child may not yet be fully developed.”
“Not fully… but why are they hatching then?”
“Truly, I cannot say. Without being able to see the child to confirm, I would not be able to tell. There is a great chance they may need assistance in emerging, though acting too quickly could potentially kill the child.”
Hornet turned to stare at the taller bug, “Kill… them??”
“It is usually best to leave a hatchling to emerge on their own, but in cases where one is early, assistance is needed to ensure the survival of the child. While I have not personally helped with such matters, I do know how to safely help an egg hatch. Rest assured, I will not let your child die if I can help it.”
Hornet hunches over into herself, barely breathing. Why must I risk losing them when they’ve come so far? What did she do to deserve this
A crack rings through the air, drawing her attention back to the egg. A tiny hand emerges from a hole in the shell, the very first sight of her miracle child. She leans over to look at the hole from above, and she can see two tiny little eyes peering back out at her. Already she loves this child dearly, even though they haven’t yet greeted the world.
“That’s it, you can do it,” her voice is almost foreign to her own ears, softer than anything she’s ever said before.
Seemingly in reaction to her words of encouragement, the egg wobbles once more, the hand of her child retreating inwards once more to assist in clawing their way out. With a hole now in place, she is able to hear the small, quiet noises they make a little bit louder than before.
Time slowed to a crawl as she watched her child chip away at the barrier between themself and the world. Their hands would reach up and push, slowly widening the hole. They wiggled and chirped, though they seemed to grow tired after a point. The shaking and noises stopped, instantly putting Hornet on high alert.
“They’ve stopped.”
“Would you mind shifting over so I may get a better look?” Shakra asked.
“Please,” Hornet made room to allow her through, and she began inspecting the egg.
“Good news, the child is still trying to hatch, they just seem to be getting tired. From what I could see from my limited view, they seem too small to get proper leverage.”
“Is there something we can do to fix that?”
“Simply gently take hold of a shell shard with your claw, and delicately lift it. I see no other signs of distress, and the child appears to be well enough that your assistance will not harm them,” As always, she knew what to say to give Hornet comfort.
Ever so slowly she followed Shakra’s instructions, carefully peeling away shards of eggshell to reveal the child within. Finally, enough shell is removed, and with a final burst of energy, her child rolls out of the eggshell and onto the soft pillows below. They are covered in a wet and sticky substance, but that means little when she has finally welcomed a child of hers into the world.
Carefully, Hornet takes her newborn into her arms and holds them close to her chest. Her vision goes blurry, tears beginning to fall down her face. Finally, she’s a mother.
She takes the hem of her cloak and begins to wipe away the fluid covering her child. As they are dried off, she notices two things. Firstly, her child is a girl. Second, her daughter most certainly inherited her shell coloration from her husband. It’s freeing, to know the clutch was his all along. Her daughter’s mask is just like her own, a small crescent shape, with four round, perfect little eyes.
She’s well and truly crying now, an endless stream of tears flowing as she holds her daughter close. After so long, so many losses, so many tears, she’s gotten the one thing she’s wanted for the most, a child to call her own. And what a beautiful child she is.
“Her name is Hera,” she declares.
“A wonderful name for a wonderful child. Congratulations Hornet.”