"What other dungeon is so dark as one’s own heart"
Day 19 of October Practice
Warning: Mentioned infant kidnapping
For my own original story "BirdsHeart" (starting off grimly huh)
(I recommend checking out the book the title's quote is referencing)
They had moved most of his things to the bottom of the mountain, so that they wouldn't need to be reminded of him every day.
Only his crib, some toys and blankets remained in his nursery, all the rest of the furniture along with his remaining clothes and swaddles were put aside, reeking of the little one's panic from the night he had been taken away from them.
His nursery still held a small happy smell, of a calm and comfortable nestling, even though it was now almost completely empty.
Sazael still sat in the nursery a lot, when the pain of missing his littlest sibling became too strong. Everyone in the family missed him, but they had both been Harpy Eagles, so they had bonded in a way the others couldn’t fully replicate.
Sometimes, he'd try to sing the lyricless songs their father used to sing for the baby, even though his voice cracked through the melodies. He knew he wasn’t very good at it, but it was the only way he had found to let the sadness out. It was as though, for a fleeting moment, the nestling would hear him and might call back.
At times, as he sang, Sazael found himself staring at the empty crib and wishing, just for a moment, that his little brother might magically reappear. The thought would sometimes bring back memories so vivid it was almost like the past had really returned: the little one chirping happily, reaching out with his tiny arms whenever Sazael approached his crib.
Pearly, however, couldn't bear with it. Though she had taken up a lot of the hunting tasks, much like himself, after their father retreated into himself, she was still home a lot, and whenever she passed by the nursery and heard Sazael, she'd harshly tell him to stop singing.
He knew she blamed both him and their eldest sibling, but he also knew she blamed herself, for she too had created a deep bond with their little brother, and was too fiercely protective of him, so the loss had also left her in shambles.
The two of them had never really gotten along the best, but their relationship had completely soured after their baby sibling was taken, and that showed.
Sometimes it would be Father who found him in the nursery on the days he had the energy to just leave his room and walk around, and most time he too would ask Sazael to not sing anymore, except he sounded exhausted and like he had been crying for a long time, which was probably true.
There had been one occasion though, where Sazael had been singing on his little brother's birthday, and instead of once again asking him to stop, his father had just walked into the nursery and hugged him.
Hugs were rare now, especially from Father, and yet, Sazael never pushed away, even if his father's presence carried the smell of a deep sadness and a longing for the past.
Their father had been utterly consumed by grief after the baby was taken. He spent most of his days either confined to his room or scouring the mountains and plateaus for hours, bringing back a plethora of food but never the piece of himself that had been lost.
He had also become even more protective of his remaining children, almost to the point of obsession, always trying observing and listening for any possible threats whenever he was near them.
That had quickly become suffocating for Sazael, making him dedicate more and more hours of his weeks to being in the baby's nursery, where his father would rarely step foot in, instead of his own bedroom, where he now only slept, not wanting to fall into the same trap Father had.
Though, it didn't really matter how much they tried escape from it, to move forward. Grief wrapped around them like a noose tightening at a criminal's neck, almost like taunting them.
And no matter how much they tried to not face the facts, to not look at the reality of things for what it was, to keep going and return to a near normal, one thing remained perpetually true.
They had moved most of his things to the bottom of the mountain, so that they wouldn't need to be reminded of him every day.
