"Life is not measured in the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away."

The Sacrifice

::She lay there watching Cala fade more and more. Seeing the others asleep, and hearing Gelina and Landon leave, she managed to make it to the other couch. Tender fingers caressed the grey tinted face, the blood from earlier had dried against the pale skin, crimson lips now blue. Eyes that once sparkled were closed, and it seemed that death would come this night. Even the brown curls seemed to have had the color drawn from them. All for the love of one who chose to walk away. Wiping away the dried blood a tear slid down her cheek. Brood meant blood. Without that blood, she and Cala were nothing. Waking Nero, she met his eyes, he carried the weakened mother and child to the gardens, bringing Maggie the things she wanted before she even had to ask. The moon was high in the sky when she began to bathe the limp child. Soft Gaelic chant fell from her lips, she anointed the grey form, growing dizzy herself, but shoving the bewildered Nero away when he came to her. This was her child. She would make right that which was wrong. Wrapping Cala in white silk, she lay her so the moon shone directly upon her. The form looking even more lifeless as the moon touched it. She then began to bathe herself, fingers lingering a moment to the place above her heart where once she bore his gene. She anointed herself, allowing Nero to come near only long enough to slide the white silk gown over her form. Twice in this short time she had donned ceremonial clothing...she prayed this would be the last time for a long while. Lifting Cala into her arms she began her staggering way toward the temple. She would not let Nero near them, casting a circle to keep him at a distance. He followed still. The dragon had told her she was strong, but strength was her curse. She lived when others died, and it wearied her to the bone. Inside the druids, priests and priestesses moved away, having watched without interference a few nights ago. A quiet murmur and looks of surprise that the rubied haired woman lived still. Stumbling to the alter she lay her child on it. Luna's light falling on her still limp form. Maggie collapsed there as well, having only the energy to set a ward, knowing that bits of her blood had soaked the area, she called it to her power. No one would come near, until Luna had made her decision. Soft murmur came from her lips, though it echoed through the halls.:: "The strong are sacrificed so the weak live on"