A withering flower at devil's mercy

"There it is! The Calakmul fishing village." Fabio exclaimed with a spark of excitement, pointing toward the cluster of thatched-roof houses in the north.

"Oh, bless my soul! It looks just as it did when I was a babe," Dacey chimed, her voice warm with nostalgia. Her eyes glistened as she clung to Fabio's arm, and the elderly couple shared memories of how they had first met in the very same village.

"That must have been a beautiful chapter in your lives," Luciana said kindly, watching the pair blush at the recollection of their youthful days.

Before more could be said, a voice called out from the path ahead. "Fabio!"

Fabio turned, his face lighting up. He hurried forward with a broad smile, his gait surprisingly swift for his age. "Chak! My old friend."

An elderly man stepped out of a nearby hut, beaming with joy as he embraced Fabio. "Come in and rest. I've just prepared some warm cacao."

"Later, my friend," Fabio replied with a grateful nod. "First, I must take my daughter and grandson to Ah Kin' e Akna."

Chak nodded in understanding. "I'll hold you to it, then," he said with a hearty laugh before disappearing back into his hut.

Luciana observed the interaction with a soft smile. "Everyone here seems so lively."

"We hold each other in high regard," Dacey said, her voice reassuring. "Here, everyone is like family."

Luciana's expression faltered briefly. "Even when war rages on," she murmured under her breath in her own tongue.

"What was that, dear?" Dacey asked, tilting her head.

"Oh, nothing," Luciana quickly replied, brushing it off.

Fabio gestured toward a grand structure made of red clay bricks in the distance. "We've arrived, child. Come along now."

"Not you, my dear," Dacey interjected, placing a gentle hand on Fabio's arm. "This is sacred ground. Only women may enter."

Fabio nodded in understanding and stayed back with Nemesis, the family's young grandson. Meanwhile, Luciana followed Dacey toward the grand building.

The temple loomed before them, its walls painted with intricate patterns in hues of blue, white, and green. Inside, the air was heavy with reverence. Statues carved from stone stood tall, serving as both pillars and silent guardians of the sacred space. The hall was filled with women—some meditating, others silently praying. Many of them were visibly pregnant, waiting for the blessings of Ah Kin' e Akna, the priestess who served as the deity's voice.

Luciana sat beside Dacey, her gaze wandering over the details of the room. She admired the artistry in the murals and the serene focus of the women around her. Not wanting to stand out, she folded her hands and bowed her head, mimicking their prayerful posture.

Two hours passed before it was their turn to approach the priestess. Luciana felt a pang of guilt, imagining Nemesis growing restless outside.

The priestess, a stately woman who appeared to be in her late forties, sat cross-legged on a raised platform. Her eyes were closed, and for a long time, she remained silent, as though communing with unseen forces. Dacey sat calmly, but Luciana could feel her own nerves growing taut.

Without warning, the priestess opened her eyes and raised her hands high. Her voice rang out, clear and resonant. "It lives! A new life will soon enter this world."

A momentary wave of relief swept over Luciana, but the priestess's expression grew grave. "But beware, child. The life within you carries a shadow. If not nurtured with care, Akna's blessing could turn into a curse."

Luciana's heart skipped a beat. "W-what do you mean?" she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Dacey leaned forward, her face stricken with concern. "Ah Kin' e, surely you're not suggesting discarding this life?"

The priestess lowered her hands and closed her eyes, her features etched with solemnity. "The child within you is not alone. He was shielded by his brother—a life that no longer remains."

Luciana froze. "Two children?" she murmured, her hands trembling as they moved instinctively to her belly.

"Yes, my child," Dacey said softly, her voice tinged with sadness. "You carried twins, but only one remains."

Luciana's mind raced, her thoughts colliding in a whirlwind of emotions. All this time, she had blamed Erebus and the demon realm for her previous losses, unaware of the fragile miracle that had taken root within her.

Tears welled in her eyes. She clasped her hands over her mouth, a choked gasp escaping her lips. "Oh, dear God!"

Dacey pulled her into an embrace, her arms firm and comforting. Her scent—a mix of cinnamon and the faint brine of the sea—offered Luciana a semblance of solace.

"Oh, Akna, bless this child. Protect them," Dacey whispered fervently, her words a quiet chant of hope.

Luciana handed the priestess a small bundle of tonics in exchange for her service. Before they left, she scheduled another appointment for Luciana three months hence.

Luciana thanked the priestess with a shaky but sincere voice. As she and Dacey stepped out of the temple, the bright sun greeted them, casting light on their solemn faces.

The path ahead seemed uncertain, but Luciana clung to the faint glimmer of hope within her—the fragile yet unyielding life growing inside.

When they came out, they found both Nemesis and Fabio dozing under the warm sun. Luciana gently woke Nemesis up while Dacey urged Fabio up on his feet.

They stopped by Chak's hut where his wife and daughter served them hot cacao. Dacey told his wife about Luciana's miraculous pregnancy. The women hurried out of the hit and were soon back with a clay jug.

They poured golden liquid from the jug into a wide bowl and gave it to her.

"Drink this! This is honey water. It's good for pregnant women." The women told her.

Luciana thanked them and took a small sip. It was refreshingly sweet and cool. She felt like her tiredness wash away and replaced with comfort.

Dacey smiled and took up her cup of cacao drink and sipped it slowly.

These were the days Luciana wished to have. Tranquil days of comfort and peace. But there was always something that set up a reminder for her that this comfort was short-lived. What lay ahead was more gruesome and haunting.