Kamila’s mana core had already gotten close to the bright yellow before giving birth and the training coupled with living over a powerful mana geyser sped up the process.
“Gods, help!” She cried in between puking and sweating a black tar-like substance that stank so bad that it almost made her faint.
Her abdomen felt like it was going to explode, the waves of bright yellow mana pushing the impurities out of her system from all of her orifices at the same time.
“What’s hap- Seriously?” The Guardians said after coming and leaving in turns.
“I told you not to be so dramatic.” Lith said while she puked her guts out. “It’s just impurities and the breakthroughs between levels of the same color are the easiest. Wait to see what happens when you step to the next level.”
Kamila had a clear idea of what her husband called “easy” and she had an incredible vocabulary of vulgar words at her disposal. She had learned them from the scum of the Kingdom during her job as a Constable and she was eager to use them to express her feelings.
Alas, her eloquence was lost amid retching sounds and the gurgle of bile.
“This… is the easy part?” She asked amid pants once the torture was over.
“Totally.” Lith said while destroying the impurities with a pulse of darkness magic.
“You bet.” Tista said while handing Kamila a change of clothes until the Voidfeather armor finished cleaning itself.
“This will be a happy memory when you start getting rid of the impurities stuck inside your organs and bones.” Solus said while preparing her a hot bath.
“Being an Awakened sucks!” Kamila groaned, feeling so faint that her eyes started to droop.
“Stay awake.” Tista gave her a few gentle slaps. “Either you take a bath or you sleep on the floor. If that shit touches your bed, you are never going to get rid of the smell.”
“Awesome.” Kamila nodded, feeling a bit better since the breakthrough had indeed been light and thanks to the power of the geyser she was already recovering. “How long will it take for the deep green?”
“Best case scenario, even with all the tricks we’ve learned over the years and the tower, months.” Lith replied.
“Thank the gods!” Kamila looked up at the sky with eyes filled with gratitude.
“I thought you were adamant about learning Dimensional Magic as soon as possible and that takes a deep green core minimum.” Solus said, confused by Kamila’s change of heart.
“That’s what I believed as well. I was wrong.”
***
City of Lutia, a few days later.
Elysia loved the tower and the nursery could shapeshift into several different forms that were all aimed to keep her entertained. So, whenever it was Lith’s turn to look after the baby, he adopted a sharing approach.
When she was awake, Lith read out loud his notes, using the voice and intonation he would use for bedtime stories. He and Solus would discuss magical theories like they were talking about something wondrous, smiling all the time.
After a while, Elysia’s small brain would get tired from trying to understand all those big words and she would fall asleep. Only after putting her to sleep in the safety of Bytra’s Doomslayer crib did they put their theories into practice.
Elysia’s birth had upturned Lith’s life but since the tower had needed but one second to become perfectly baby-proofed, that part of his routine hadn’t changed much.
Yet after Kamila had shared with Lith how ugly her last meltdown with Solus had been, he had pondered a lot about Ryssa’s and Marth’s suggestions. It had meant for Lith to slow down a bit his magical research and devote more time to looking after his wife’s mental health.
He tried to involve Kamila in everything he did, even his experiments, to keep her mind and body busy. The maternity leave would be long and Kamila was adamant about not going back to work until she solved her issues.
“I don’t trust myself anymore.” She said. “I’m afraid that if I resume my duty as a Constable, I’ll use it as a way out to not face my problems. That I’d rather overwork myself than go back home and feel useless all over again.
“Also, I don’t know if I even want to work again.” Kamila lay on a recliner near Elysia’s crib while the baby slept like a log.
Kamila loved staying in the tower when it was Lith’s turn to take care of Elysia because she could completely relax and enjoy the most wholesome moments between her husband and daughter.
She always had her communication amulet at hand and in a little more than a month she had taken hundreds of photos and videos.
A few days later, Lith, Kamila, and Elysia in her inseparable baby carrier were shopping for the imminent Gala to celebrate the baby’s birth. Orion would once again bring the house staff and the furniture was already there, but the food and ingredients had to be bought fresh.
They went from merchant to merchant, taking a look at the merchandise, making their orders, and of course, bargaining the price.
“I can’t believe you got a huge ass mansion and yet you didn’t hire one butler to run this kind of errand.” Kamila said with a chuckle while making sure that the hood of Elysia’s onesie stayed up.
After Lith’s conversation with Marth, they had agreed that it was of paramount importance to avoid that Elysia’s six-streaked hair remained a secret until the gala.
“I can’t believe we are having this discussion again.” Lith sighed. “I’m not trusting a stranger with what we put in our mouths. A new Hatorne, the undead, or any of my enemies might feed us a magically laced poison and bad things would happen.
“Also, having a butler would mean having to force Garrik and Ryla to be permanently shapeshifted into human form, putting an end to Rena’s tea parties with the people of Zelex, and hiding Solus’ tower.
“On top of that, do you really want to put a stranger so close to our daughter? What if they sell her pictures to make a quick buck or they gossip behind our back?”
“Point taken.” Kamila nodded. “I don’t want people to know about my depression or worry that any little quarrel between us might become public knowledge. Yet having a butler would-”
The sound of a crying girl cut her short and drew her attention. After giving birth, Kamila had become more aware of that kind of noise that she would have once ignored amid a crowded place like the farmers market.
It was just a young girl, around five years old, throwing a tantrum in the middle of the road while her father tried to drag her away. At least until he stopped abruptly, forced her to straighten up, and slapped her in the face.
The hit wasn’t that hard, making the girl just turn her head, but the sound it produced seemed to pierce through the crowd’s noise and hit Kamila like a punch in the gut. The worst part was that there was no shock in the girl’s eyes.
