MF1.0 - 24 - Love Child

Astrin looked down at Mela as they walked through the market, she was a creature of pure beauty – even in comparison to the jewels and fine silks all around them, there was nothing that could make him tear his eyes away. The few coins and bank bills in his pocket felt heavy, weighted by guilt, rather than by mass. An entire month’s pay, but still not enough to buy her more than a trifle. He’d seen suitors come by and gift her presents a hundred times more than what he could afford. She slipped her arm through his and pulled him toward a hole-in-the wall food stall, the smell of curried meats and herbed eggs tantalised his senses – the mind may be able to live on love alone, but the stomach would always crave food. He bought their meals and they found a spot under a tree in the small park at the intersection of the four market sections. ‘Not feeling well, Astrin?’ Mela asked as she sipped from a red bottle. He stared at his curry. ‘I haven’t found you a gift yet.’ ‘My birthday isn’t until next week.’ ‘A present for today, I mean, not, um…’ he blushed as she scooted over to him. She lifted his arm and draped it over her shoulder. ‘I want to…’ ‘Kiss me?’ He did so, then sighed. ‘Astrin…I don’t want you to be a source of gifts. You aren’t a boy of standing trying to impress my father, you’re the one who wants to give me something you can’t – or shouldn’t – put a price on.’ ‘Is that always going to be good enough?’ ‘I’m going to give something, then you tell me.’ She sat up. ‘Now close your eyes.’ He obeyed, and wondered what it was – he’d been eyeing a bone-handled knife, and… ‘Here,’ she said, and placed something cold in his hands. When he opened his eyes, he felt the world shift under him. In his hand was a large, egg-shaped piece of orange quartz. He was pretty sure his mouth was hanging open as he looked up at her. Mela’s expression was pinched into one of fear and worry. ‘I didn’t want to do it like this, I…’ His gaze swung back to the egg. ‘Me? Are you sure?’ She stroked the egg, as was tradition, it was her birthstone. ‘You are a good man, Astrin. That’s all I need from you.’ The quartz was slowly warming in his hand. The invitation to father a child – a proposal much more serious than simple marriage. He calmed his heart and stared straight into the eyes of the woman he loved. ‘I would be honoured, Mela.’ He’d survived the night – at least, he figured that he had. Enough time had passed for it to be morning again – not that it made a difference in this place, the light, and lack of light remained constant. He wondered if this was intentional – to help drive the prisoners mad. It was certainly working. His stomach cried out for food – he hated the constant hunger that the transformation had brought around. He also hated his body’s mistaken belief that he was still eating for two.