Remember Me
Not sure if I've posted this before or not. I was just going through my docs and found this:
REMEMBER ME
Like every week, Azriel counted down the seconds that ebbed away in the dark cell. The scant space and whispering darkness hardly acted as an indicator.
But he found a way. Found a way to track how close he was to meet his mother again. How close he was to hear her sing a lullaby that'll he remember to make himself sleep.
The restless energy in his mind increased as his mental countdown moved towards its end, filling his heart with hope and happiness. Yet, he held still, avoiding making any sound in fear of getting punished. Once, he made the mistake of rattling the bars of the damp cell in excitement. The act earned him a slap, and his meeting with his mother was canceled.Ā
So he held still, freezing himself in the tight space, even if his body screamed.
The telltale rattle of the guard's boots against the floor echoed in the basement, pausing even the skittering shadows around him. The metal of his cell groaned, and a lock clicked open. Roughly the guard reached out to Azriel's collar, tugging him out of the cell.Ā
His legs wobbled, the unused muscles screaming. Azriel didn't look up to meet the guard's eyes, knowing well that a sneer was going to greet him with the whispered words akin to bastard or pathetic.
Stepping into the broad daylight always prickled his eyes, blind sighting him for a moment. Blinking rapidly, he searched the gardens for the form of his mother.Ā
Standing there, near the entrance of the estate, was his mother. Her frail form bunched and shivering in the proximity of his father. The intimidating lord had his arms crossed and face a mask of stone.Ā
The steel-grey eyes of the Lord ran all over his body, giving him more scrutiny ever since the sentient shadows became his acquaintance.Ā
Shadowsinger. That's what he had heard the guards mutter when he had stepped out in the light a month back, swathed in a blanket of moving shadows.Ā
Ignoring the brooding stare, Azriel raced into his mother's arms. His face split into a grin as the warmth of her embrace surrounded him, making the world around them disappear.Ā
"My lovely boy," she cooed near his ear, running a loving hand through his ink-black hair.Ā
He didn't miss the way her hands were wrapped in bandages or how she placed her weight more on one foot than the other. But like every time, he couldn't do anything than just hold her closer.Ā
She leaned back to meet his eyes, her hands finding his. Running her fingers over the jagged skin, she brought them to her lips. "Does it hurt?" she asked, following it with a kiss on his hands.
"Not too badly." He nuzzled closer to her, baking in the warmth of her presence. The mass of his wings behind him twitched.Ā
She leaned to kiss his forehead, her eyes lined with silver. "You are so strong, my love." Her fingers ran over the hollow curve of his cheek. For a moment, her eyes flickered towards the shadows lazily dancing around them. "Always be strong and remember that I love you."
Before Azriel could open his mouth to reciprocate the fact, the Lord spoke up. The brooding silver eyes had been scanning the interaction from the very beginning.
"It is time to go, boy." His voice was gruff, leaving no room for argument.Ā
Azriel's eyes snapped his way. It couldn't be. Surely, the hour couldn't have passed by so quickly. Lord huffed, understanding the unspoken question in his stare.
"It is about time you put your Illyrian blood to some use." His eyes traced the shadows, making them shrivel up at the attention. "You might be a bastard, but these abominations you carry might bring our family name some glory at the camps."
Azriel wasn't sure what these camps meant, but he didn't like the sound of them. Also, it meant the distance between him and his mother. "No." The answer was a reflex.
The crack of the slap reverberated around them. Azriel's cheek throbbed, the heavy slap leaving a print on his skin.
"Nobody asked you!" Lord bellowed, eyes glittering in rage. "You will do as instructed, or you'll face consequences. And so will your mother." His promise held sadistic intent. Baring his teeth like a rabid animal, he pulled Azriel out of his mother's arms and dragged him towards the gates.
A tall Illyrian stood there, having witnessed the scene with acute interest. But Azriel didnāt care, his eyes searching his motherās as she crumbled into a heap on the ground, her clipped wings hanging limply.
That day the twin souls sobbed at the promise of distance, grief staining their hearts forever. It is not at all edited. Many mistakes I'm sure, but I had to post this for the sake of getting it out of my drafts.






















