24 YEARS BEFORE THE CRIMSON WAR

The labour was long and overwhelming, and with each passing diminutive, Helda's strength disappeared. The total moon, which was a source of spiritualist vitality in Chanthorn, appeared to cast a strongly and unforgiving light upon the couple. Geralt, torn between his human and werewolf instinctual, battled to stay by his wife's side, battling the internal encourage to reply the call of the moon and transform.

Dr. Larson, a prepared doctor in Chanthorn, talked with urgency as she directed the restorative group. "We got to speed up the method. We can't let her persevere this torment any longer. Plan for a C-section."

Geralt gestured, his eyes glinting with a primal encourage. "Do anything it takes to spare her and the baby."

As the therapeutic group worked resolutely, Geralt paced restlessly. "If you don't mind, rush! Helda, remain with me. You're so strong."

Helda's cries of misery filled the room, and Geralt's heart throbbed with weakness. He clenched his clench hands, feeling the monster inside him clawing at the edges of his consciousness. Finally, after what felt like an endlessness, their daughter was born, but it was a minute that came at the edge of life and passing. The room appeared to breathe out a collective breath of help as her cries filled the discuss. Helda, although depleted and debilitated, clung to awareness, her eyes filled with love and alleviation as she looked upon her infant daughter.

Geralt stooped by Helda's side, tears of help gushing down his confront. "You did it, Helda. You're amazing." Helda overseen a powerless grin. "We did it, Geralt."

A small young lady with a tuft of curly brown hair and shinning green eyes, was a confirmation to the mettle and strength of her guardians. She had arrived in this world during the most challenging of circumstances, an image of their persevering adores and the unwavering soul of Chanthorn. In the repercussions of the birth, the healing centre staff assembled around, advertising congrats and bolster. Dr. Larson talked with adoration. "You both showed strong resilience and quality today. What will her name be?"

A moment of silence fell upon the room.

“Nora...her name will be Nora. Just like her grandmother”, Helda’s tired voice said.

Geralt gestured, his eyes never clearing out his spouse and infant girl. "Thank you, Doctor. Thank you all."

And as they looked upon their precious girl, Geralt and Helda knew that Nora's birth would until the end of time be carved into the chronicles of Chanthorn's history as a confirmation to the persevering control of adore, assurance, and the enchanted strengths that formed their lives. It was no coincidence she was born on the same night as the moon goddess celebration.

After Nora's birth, Geralt and Helda were at long last able to take off the healing center and return to their cozy domestic in Chanthorn. The moon was still tall within the sky as they strolled hand in hand, their steps overwhelming with the weight of fatigue and the bliss of parenthood. As they entered their curious bungalow, Geralt made a difference Helda settle into a comfortable chair by the chimney. The warmth from the crackling fire filled the room, casting moving shadows on the walls. Helda let out a moan, supporting Nora in her arms.

"She's so lovely, Geralt. Our small miracle." Geralt grinned, his eyes filled with pride. "Yes, she is. I can't believe she's at last here."

Their delight was discernable, but it was moreover tinged with the depletion and push of the challenging birth. As the night wore on, Helda's fatigue extended, and her confront developed paler. Geralt couldn't help but take note. "Helda, are you feeling okay?"

Helda gestured feebly, but her voice was strained. "I'm just tired, Geralt. It was a troublesome birth, but I'll be fine." But as the hours passed, Helda's condition did not progress. She started to shudder wildly, her skin developing clammy. Fear grasped Geralt's heart as he realized something was truly wrong.

"Helda, we require to urge you back to the healing center," he said urgently. Helda's eyes filled with tears. "No, Geralt, I can't go back there. I just need to be with our daughter." Geralt's dissatisfaction and stress bubbled over, and he raised his voice.

"Helda, this is often almost your wellbeing. We can't disregard it. Nora needs her mother to be healthy." Tears spilled down Helda's confront as she clung to Nora. "I can't lose her, Geralt. I can't."

Geralt's outrage gave way to edginess, and he come to for his phone to call the healing centre. "I won't let anything happen to you or Nora, Helda. We require help presently.

The contention between Geralt and Helda had heightened, their voices rising within the little cabin. The warmth of the fire appeared to offer no comfort to the cold fracture that had formed between them.

"Helda, if it's not too much trouble, you've got to go back to the healing centre," Geralt argued, his disappointment palpable. Helda's tears streamed openly presently, her confront a cover of anguish. "I won't leave our girl, Geralt. I can't."

Their words hung intensely within the discuss, the pressure terrible. But fair as Geralt was almost to demand advance, a sudden alter came over Helda. She clutched her midriff, panting in pain.

Geralt's eyes broadened in caution. "Helda, what's happening?" Blood began to seep through Helda's outfit, recolouring it dark red. She fell on a chair and after that collapsed to the floor, unconscious. Panic surged through Geralt as he bowed next to his spouse, supporting her head in his hands. "Helda! Wake up!" Frantically, he dialed for an ambulance and attempted to staunch the dying with a towel, his hands trembling.

Nora, unconscious of the desperate circumstance, proceeded to rest in her bunk, her guiltless nearness a stark contrast to the chaos that had erupted. Minutes felt like hours as Geralt held up for the rescue vehicle, his heart beating in his chest. He whispered words of adore and franticness to his oblivious spouse, asking her to hold on.

Feeling a strong sense of desperation, Geralt picked up his phone again and dialed the number of his sister-in-law. She picked up. “Oh my God, has it happened already?”, the elated voice of Helda’s older sister could be heard on the other end of the phone.

“Come over to the house and take the baby”, Geralt shouted quickly.

“What do you m---“, she tried to say but was abruptly cut short.

Geralt didn't have time for clarifications. He hung up and delicately set Nora in her bunk. His hands shook as he moved back to Helda, who remained oblivious on the cabin floor. With awesome care, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the car.

Geralt didn't have time for clarifications. He hung up and delicately set Nora in her bunk. His hands shook as he moved back to Helda, who remained oblivious on the cabin floor. With awesome care, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the car. As he settled Helda into the rearward sitting arrangement, he felt a surge of uneasiness and dissatisfaction. The motor thundered to life, and the car sped into the moonlit night, tires shrieking on the rock street. Geralt's knuckles turned white as he grasped the wheel tightly, and he mumbled curses beneath his breath. The street to the nearby healing centre was tricky, winding through the thick timberland, but Geralt was decided to urge Helda the assistance she required. He may listen her shallow breaths from the rearward sitting arrangement, each one a agonizing update of her breaking down condition. His intellect hustled, a tornado of fear and outrage. He wished he had been more understanding, more understanding amid their contention. Blame chewed at him as he drove, the weight of the contention overwhelming on his shoulders. And at that point, within the obscurity of the night, calamity struck. Geralt's vision obscured for a minute as he battled to keep control of the car. Panic held him as the vehicle veered off the street and smashed into a tree with a loud bang.