Epilogue
Dahlia
Months have passed since I left the outside world.
I have embraced my wild side, and thanks to the Silene vitalis, I am healthier than ever.
My days are filled with laughter and love that usually leads to raw, animalistic sex.
For the first time in my life, I am wanted and accepted for who I am, and it feels like coming home.
I’m in the hot springs, watching the night sky as I wait for Eryon to return from gathering the offerings that are left for him, that often includes letters from Sita.
Tonight, I eagerly await him not for news of the outside world, which I care less and less about as time passes, but to give him my own news.
At last, he returns, dropping a large basket at the head of the spring and sinking in next to me.
He gathers me in his arms and situates us on the stone bench.
I relax back against him, moaning softly at the way he reaches around to cup my breasts.
The increased sensitivity has me panting.
The full moon makes it way past the edge of the stone roof, flooding the alcove with silvery light.
“Eryon,” I say.
“Mm,” he replies as he nuzzles my neck.
“The moon cycle has come and gone,” I say, seeing if he will pick up on my hint.
“So, it has, my sweet Winter Star,” he says as he kisses along my shoulder.
I take one of his large hands from my breast and guide it down to rest on my belly. He freezes for the space of several heartbeats, then spins me around to face him.
“Sruhnar?” His voice is full of hope, excitement shining in his eyes.
I cup his face in my hands and nod. “A snowling. Or at least, a half snowling.”
He drops his forehead to mine, his breaths short and tight. When he lifts his head and meets my eyes again, tears are streaming down his face. “You are worth any price, my Winter Star, my Sruhnar.”
Eighteen long months have passed. Sita even visited a few times, but there is no lore she knows of involving Migoi babies, and we didn’t want to have her researching or asking around so as not to raise any suspicions.
Eryon seemed to remember his last mate being pregnant for quite a while but that was many years ago. He simply reminds me that the child will need to carry the strength of centuries and the patience of the seasons.
I eat well and sleep when I want and regularly consume the Silene vitalis tea. Eryon had redoubled his efforts to make sure that we had a bumper crop and had set about preserving it in a variety of forms as a safeguard.
We have shelves stocked with all parts of the plant in dried form, powdered, whole leaf, made into teas, and even, with some items supplied by Sita, tinctures and salves.
At the far end of one of the tunnel systems we even have some in what I call “the freezer.” A convenient storage area set into a section of permafrost.
It was as if he had funneled all of his anxieties over the pregnancy into extreme preparation for the only thing he could to ensure my health, and possibly the snowling’s.
Despite no known history of a Yeti-human baby, I continue to be healthier than ever despite my rapidly growing abdomen. I should at least have had back pain or the pelvic pressure I’d heard other women complain about. But I feel shockingly well.
A sudden urge for fresh air has me getting out of bed. I slowly make my way up through the tunnels, my fingers trailing over the newest drawings—the ones of Eryon and me, the beginning of our story.
I step into the alcove, or the back porch, as I’ve come to call it. It’s safe to be out here alone, and even though I love our home in the caves, sometimes I crave not just the warmth here but the open skies above. Eryon would be frantic if I left the caves on my own in the middle of the night.
As I walk out into my favorite place on earth, even the Silene vitalis seems to glow a little brighter under the full moon tonight. The moonlight and stars bathe this lush slice of heaven in a hundred shades of magnificent silver.
For the first time, my belly feels uncomfortably tight. I trace the enormous curve with both hands, whispering softly, “Little snowling, your daddy and I can’t wait to meet you. Whenever you are done growing and can arrive safely, we will be waiting.”
I don’t want to pressure the little one into coming early. I surrendered myself as soon as I suspected I was pregnant to this miracle, deciding to enjoy every day to the fullest. Living with Eryon had taught me to respect the cycles of nature and find comfort in the calm quiet of moments like this.
While he had prepared more Silene Vitalis than could ever be consumed, I had read through a few books Sita had dropped off on wilderness medicine and childbirth.
We had prepared a small kit with birth supplies for things like cutting the cord and expanded our supplies to cover most minor emergencies a child could get into.
I thought we were as ready as possible, but as my belly tightens again, pulling a small gasp from my lips, I start to panic at the overwhelming possibilities of what could go horribly wrong alone on the mountain.
A soft breeze carries the scent of snow and pine to me, and I take a deep calming breath of it.
I make the conscious decision that I will not be afraid, and as Eryon comes up behind me and wraps his strong arms around me, I tap into his strength and surrender myself to this cycle, too. My belly tightens again under his hand, and he gasps.
“Sruhnar?” he asks, full of hope.
“I think it’s time. Help me into the water and then please go grab the kit.”
He guides me into the spring and helps me to sit up on the natural stone bench. The hot water feels amazing as it supports the weight of my belly and runs over my skin in a warm embrace.
I try different positions as I start to become uncomfortable, and when Eryon returns, it’s to find me on my hands and knees. I rest my head on the bank, the ground soft beneath my face and the ground smelling sweet.
I am elated to be welcoming this little one into the most beautiful and magical space on this earth.
The night gives way to dawn while the contractions pick up in both speed and intensity.
I have no idea how long labor lasts with a snowling, but much like my pregnancy, it feels to be a very long time.
Eryon is attentive, feeding me little bits of food, offering sweet water to drink, and massaging my back. Just as the dawn breaks and golden light chases away the silvery shadows, the pain peaks. I feel a snap like a rubber band followed by gushing fluid.
What I thought was pain before is nothing compared to the contractions that come with my water breaking. I can sense the shift, as if my body is now getting down to serious business.
Instinctively, I squat in front of Eryon, telling him to sit in front of me. I pull his knees up and use them to balance my weight, breathing deep until I am overwhelmed with the strong urge to push.
I push and I push while Eryon encourages me to do whatever feels right. But it doesn’t feel right. A second of clear focus washes over me, and I realize something is off. I’m not making any headway despite all the pushing.
“Eryon, listen to me. I need to get this baby out, and I don’t feel like it's coming down correctly. I’m going to get on my hands and knees, so you’ll need to get behind me and help catch the baby.”
“Sruhnar, my Winter Star. I have complete faith in you. I will do whatever you wish. Just tell me what you need from me.” His voice is calm and steady as he helps me onto my hands and knees.
I know I made the right call as something shifts and the urge to push becomes even stronger. With a primal scream, I bear down with all my strength and finally feel my baby crowning. I cry in relief, waiting for the next contraction to push again.
Eryon talks me through everything he is feeling and seeing, his voice breaking with emotion as our little snowling slides into his hands. I sag back to recline on the bank as he passes me the little bundle, and I cradle it to my chest, looking down in awe at the baby in my arms.
He drops his forehead to mine, and we bask in the moment that we become a family. He helps me recline against him as I bring the baby to my breast, my breath rushing out as it latches.
“Oh. I wasn’t expecting that. What a hungry little thing,” I say in wonder as I gently trace my finger over a perfectly round cheek covered in downy white fuzz. A smile splits my face at the bright violet-blue eyes that blink up at me. My mother’s eyes.
“Hungry little girl,” he corrects, an answering smile splitting his face.
“I feel some more contractions, I think the nursing is triggering the placenta to release,” I say, falling back on the books I’ve read.
I breathe through a few of the contractions, enamored with the little girl who’s popped off my breast to stare in wonder at the world around her.
I’m just starting to worry that something is wrong with as strong as the pain is getting when I feel the overwhelming urge to push again. I pull my legs up and give in to it.
Eryon helps hold my tired legs as I continue to strain. “I don’t think this is just the placenta. Quick, get ready,” I pant out between pushes. No questions asked, he quickly places his hands between my legs, and with the next push, he catches a second snowling.
We stare at each other in shock. Whereas the first little girl is snow white like her daddy, this little fluff ball is silvery grey, an almost blue tint to the soft downy coat.
“A son,” he murmurs. He is quiet for a moment as he holds the second baby up in the light of dawn.
“Eryon?” I say softly.
He places our son at my other breast with reverence, his hands—appearing even larger as they cradle the tiny heads—resting protectively on each of them. Bowing his head, he exhales a breath that seems to carry the weight of his gratitude and awe.
He murmurs what sounds like a prayer in an ancient language, and after a long beat, meets my eyes. “I never thought to hold a snowling again. And now we have not just one, but two snowlings. Two. I will never be able to thank you for this gift, Sruhnar. Thank you, my Winter Star.”
He holds us close, this impossible, perfect family, as dawn spills golden light over the mountain. His arms are a shield, a promise, a vow.
I came here seeking a cure. Seeking survival.
Instead, I found eternity.