The day the twins came into the world had been, up to their arrival, fairly normal for Mirin. She slept in the inn room she and Orn called home, lost in a fog of tired exhaustion. The pair of tiny magical bodies in her belly pulled the energy from her and the more they grew, the more rest she needed. From all appearances, she wasn't pregnant with twins. Mirin looked like any other pregnant lady, which spoke to the small size of the infants within. Though she'd anticipated being huge, she had been fortunate to get the esper-sized infants; small and magical.
Even though the twin's arrival was inevitable, Mirin still did not believe it would happen to her. She hadn't been ready to become a mother before and she still wasn't. There was nothing in the room to suggest babies were on their way - no clothes, no cribs, no discussion of names. So it was when the cramping began, then the slow spread of stomach muscles tightening until they felt like stone and Mirin burned with an unfamiliar pain. She knew but she didn't - all the signs were alight, she wasn't positive she wanted to see them.
'Orn,' Mirin called. 'I need your help.' Her husband showed up looking her over with the same untrained birthing eyes as every first time father. Oblivious.
"You look like you're about to puke, do you need a bucket?"
'I think they're coming...'
"Who's coming?"
'The babies.'
"The..." And Mirin watched Orn's face pale.
