Nathanael

My birth was four years in the waiting. Years of my parents being pressured to have an heir, of growing fears by the councilors, and my parents, that my mother was unable to have a child. There was a celebration when the news was announced and anticipation grew until my birth. My parents would name me Prince Nathanael Peter Quele, as to them I truly was a gift from the Gods.

I was born on a winter day, and on that day I was wed to Prince Thom Antsrev Royale who would become my best friend and the sibling I never had. Thom was the heir to the southern empire of Royale, the enemy of the Holy Camarian Empire for almost two millennia. My mother was committed to peace with the south and my father, with firm hatred of the south, held his ground against her. The problem of the south-lands was the first issue my parents never truly saw eye to eye upon.

There was proof that Talkran Royale, the uncle of the current ruler of the Imperial Royalian Empire had murdered both of my father’s parents when he was only seven. Due to this, my father's hatred was personal. Elaina held that war could not be fought because of private reasons. A contract was written between Cama’ra and Royale, written by the elder son of the Emperor of Royale by a courtesan, Drefan Robert Royale, and it would be signed by my parents. My father refused to sign the document until the day I was born and even then it was with great reluctance.

Yet my father had expressed to me, at length, the admiration and respect he felt for my mother that was born on the day they had met. When he, Prince Peter Quele, was being punished for a rash prank played during mid-day mass. My mother, Lady Elaina Laurent had initially laughed at the chaos that the loose bat had caused, however, she soon noticed the bat was panicking. Elaina grabbed for the furry body, guarding the tiny form as she ran out of the church.

Young Peter had not thought about the bat getting hurt in the process of his trick and my Mother's first words to him were heated for what could have happened. Realizing that the bat could have gotten hurt, Peter’s eyes had grown wet with tears and Elaina's reprimand meant much more than the Arch-Deacon's punishment. My father had always pulled such pranks; it was his way to get the attention he craved as an orphaned child of the Royal Court. But it would be Elaina who would think of the consequences of the actions Peter would take.

My Mother took up another scrub brush and knelt beside my Father to assist in his punishment of scrubbing the entire parish floor. The Noble family that had fostered Elaina for the winter season scolded her, and they swept her out of the Basilica soon after.

Both my mother, Lady Elaina, and my father, Prince Peter were orphaned by the Dirian War and raised by the Court. Two strays that were inconvenient and always underfoot. Father told me how they met a second time at a Fair where a hunt was underway. Elaina was a natural on horseback and with a bow, whereas the crown prince was not. My Mother allowed Peter the kill and he rewarded her with a toothy grin that made her laugh.

They would find comfort in each other's company during their youth when nothing could ever go right. Peter confided in her about the ghost that haunted him, "His Eminence always reminds me of my Hara's honor and that he died a War Hero. He does not have to remind me, Elaina! I dream of Joscelin, who was 'The Blade Dancing King', whereas I am just a joker, a trickster, and a clown."

Elaina gripped my Father's shoulders, "You're not just any of those things, Peter." She shook her head, "You're honorable and you will be a good King, but you cannot live under your parent's shadow when you hardly even knew him."

Time spent side by side, Elaina fell in love with my soon-to-be Father in a way that he could never fully return. She taught him to kiss and lied for him the nights he met with his young Lords. Peter trusted her with his certainty that the court would make him a Puppet King when he was crowned and she always reassured him of his strength.

The coronation followed far too quickly, and the event was not free of drama. Men and women came in large numbers to Peter's side as the newly crowned King and he could not excuse himself to make his way to Elaina's side. There were only wistful glances her way and later apologies. Elaina, alone against a far wall finally gave up and made her way to bed trying not to feel hurt. My mother had known that she had to continue to wear that smile she always had when she covered for him and wished above all for his joy.

It was with the knowledge that she loved him enough to do anything for him that she greeted Peter at her doorstep that same night far after midnight. My Father stood in the hall tired and upset that he could not speak to her the entire evening, sick at heart about the people who just wished to get close to him because of the crown. My mother had pulled him into her arms without a second thought and he had gripped her nightgown, holding her tightly.

"Marry me, be my Queen Elaina. I need you, the Empire needs you, and the people need you."

Elaina had stiffened with surprise at the words she had never thought to hear from him. Peter’s fingers dig into her shoulders.

"I cannot do this without you. You know that. I am trying, but I am no King, no, not like you are," Peter gave a self-condemning smile. "I mean it, though. I do Elaina. I need yo-," Elaina cut him off, pulling him into a teary-eyed hug.

"Yes."

Kisses were dropped on Peter's brow, his cheeks, and his lips. My mother accepted his proposal with the realization that she would marry a man who could never love her the way she loved him.

"Yes."

My health was short-lived, and my being so physically fragile would be the cause of endless worry. The peace that my parents had known from the birth of their heir quickly passed, because, you see, the fevers came for me when I was three. They took me away, my world turning into awful dreams. These sights were not a child's faerie tales and they aged me in both mind and body.

It had taken my parents four years to conceive me, their only heir, with hopes, and dreams upon shoulders that could not bear the weight. My illness strained my parents, arguments broke out on how best to care for me, and depression came to the castle. Peter had to face the council alone as my mother sat day and night by my side. His lack of confidence only made it harder for him to rule alone.

My father had fallen to his knees before the statue of Reinn Anon, our blessed Lord, God of Light, Angels, and the Storms. My father had not been a religious man back then, he had always had issues with the Arch-Deacon, Lefton Udell who was his keeper. But my father had begged Reinn Anon with hands clasped, kneeling on those very same tiles that he had spent that day cleaning beside his then, future wife.

"Allow my boy to live Milord, that is all I ask of you," words passed from chapped lips and a dry throat. Peter's head was bowed in respect; shoulders slumped, no longer held up by regal pride.

In silence, one of the Commandants of the Sovereign Guard knelt by my father's side with his white-gloved hands clasped before him, brown eyes closed responding to Peter's prayer.

"I ask the High King of Paradise, Reinn Anon to spare the young heir's life, to give him back to his parents who hold him so dear."

Peter had swallowed harshly, tears in his blue eyes as the additional Sovereign Guard within the church knelt and prayed for my health. Father, when he was not in front of the nobles, and councilors, was a joyous trickster who was young at heart. It was this man that had won the loyalty of his Sovereign Guard and for them to see my father so sad was concerning. The nods that followed the divine requests caused my father to begin to sob and the Commandant gathered my nineteen-year-old father into his arms. The support given by that embrace was the type of support that Sir Atrious would give my father from then on.

My mother had fallen romantically in love with my father and he relied upon her as his Queen and wished only for her happiness. But my father would fall in love with Sir Dryden Atrious after Sir Atrious convinced the other Commandants to hold a candlelight vigil where all those within the castle; Knights, servants, and Noble born would pray for me to be well again.

Yet after I came out of the fevers I was still not as strong as I was before. My once sky-blue eyes had turned to unnatural ice, and in my parent's desperation to save their child's life magic was used to help me. But all it did, all it did was make me weaker...

It was decided that in the Vaen Thyl, the Border Forest between Camar'a and Royale a cabin would be built. Almost impossible for others to find except through the teleportation circles built for the family to come and go from. It would be in that cabin that I would grow up, the risk too great for my health and my fragile mind to grow up in the castle. I tried to make up for my body's weakness with my heart and my mind. Father and mother praised me and told me that I was kind and loving and the people would adore me. But then, if that was so, why did I know only my family? Why then did I always feel so alone…

~*~

Autumn of 3390

I was nine years old when I was told I would die. Sheltered from society and protected from life, I did not understand. What I did understand were the worried arms that clutched my frail waist.

"Without repairing his failing organs there is nothing further that can be done."

The words were whispered by the only woman in the silent room. She held her black shawl closed with one hand and watched each man equally with emotionless teal eyes once her words were spoken.

"You realize their Majesties will never stoop to the profane practices of opening the body with shadow?" The High Caster kept his eyes on the far wall not even looking at the Myrael as he demeaned not only Milistree but her people and their practices.

He continues speaking, "The Prince is more man than Ellearn. He is Reinn Anon's child and they will not be cut open, like animals to the slaughter. What then is to separate us from those of the darkness that sacrifice their weakest and youngest to the knife?"

No. This was not a choice my parents would make. I knew the ways of Reinn Anon, Lord of Holy Light and Storms. Our God had given us his spirit, the sacred breath to bring us to life. To lose that would be a terrible thing.

An ear that far more resembled a crumpled autumn leaf flicked as the Ellearn woman looked to the HighCaster. She was silent for a moment with only the heat of the Myrael Diplomat's eyes showing her resentment.

Finally, she spoke again. "Then there is nothing more that can be done," Lady Milistree repeated.

Sir Atrious's gravelly voice held disbelief, "Nothing?" He would grasp me all the harder to him.

Milistree’s dark auburn curls shook as she fidgeted with the material of her crushed velvet black gown. "He has only been weakened Sir Atrious, the magic's have done nothing, his lungs fail and it shall not be long before they fill with fluids. To touch his skin pushes blood to the surface in bruising, and fatigue leads to fevers and chills. I have not seen these symptoms myself but I trust the records given by their Majesties, you and High Castor Gwynafor."

The Shadow Ellearn sighed as her fingers curled against her side into a fist.

"There will be no miracle cure, no spell that could save him now. If surgery is not an option then all that can be done is give him the rest his body aches for and make him comfortable in the days to come."

I peered up at Sir Atrious with confusion-filled eyes, and the brunette knight nodded gravely at the news. I wanted to understand what was upsetting him- this man that was as close to me as my parents and had always been part of my life for as long as I could remember. Sir Atrious's sword-roughened fingers stroked my bald head, thumb lightly caressing the bare skin, and, much like a cat, I leaned into the touch seeking comfort.

I was having difficulties breathing, and the sadness in the room was heavy on me. Rolling off the clerics who were wringing their hands, and the HighCaster with his tensely furrowed brow, Milistree in her frustration, and of course Sir Atrious. All but Milistree and uncle Gwynfor were human; they did not know that their feelings could be sensed by me. Tears were springing to my eyes as I still did not understand what was happening! Why was everyone so sad? My sniffles triggered a change in the room, and the emotions were cut off from me. Sir Atrious clutched me tighter and I uttered a soft squeak as the air was forced out of my painful lungs.

"Their Majesties are in a meeting," my uncle, the HighCaster, spoke off-hand, arms crossed before his dark blue robes.

"They will have to be told," one of the clerics looked between Sir Atrious and Gwynfor as I took in a few faltering breaths.

A cleric's hand lay against my back and the white magic pooled on my skin, sliding down under my clothes. The weight lifted, I took in a few gulping breaths of air, though I knew it wouldn't last. The magic only made the pain go away for a few minutes, so I would be able to breathe deeply and fully for that short time.

"I will express sympathies to their Majesties," the older cleric stepped forward but Sir Atrious's arm moved from around my waist, halting him.

"Nay, I will tell them. As a Commandant of the Sovereign Guard, it is my place to inform them of this. I will take Prince Nathanael and await them outside of the council room."

"Are you certain you wish to do this alone?" Gwynfor pushed his sleeves up his arms to stay out the way but did not attempt to move.

Milistree shook her head, "The King and Queen cannot keep the illness secret much longer. With the fevers six years ago and hiding the prince away for so long, the people already suspect something. Rumors have spread and the people are beginning to fully realize that once again the Camarian Empire will have no heir."

"Yes, I will tell them myself," Sir Atrious looked from Gwynfor to Milistree, "I do not wish this news to spread quicker than my liege wills it to. It is their choice how quickly or slowly the court will know of these matters. Having the HighCaster; the Royalian diplomat, a Commandant of the Sovereign Guard, the King, Queen, and Prince all present would create even more talk. Go back to your duties, and do not let this distract you from your purposes," Atrious inclined his head in respect to those present as he passed his orders on.

Each bowed in response to Atrious' words and began to file out. I blinked at them and then back to the Knight who held me, the smile on roughened features sad. My confusion remained and I wished someone would explain to me what was wrong! But I knew this was not the time to ask, not yet, that maybe my parents could tell me and my fingers clutched at Sir Atrious's uniform. Picked up in strong arms I clung to him. Although I was nine, I would later learn I was very small for my age. The illness and the cabin had slowed my growth as I saw very little of the sun. I had become afraid of the sky.

One of the clerics opened the door allowing us to walk into the hallway. I looked from Atrious to Gwynfor my eyes wide and confused, unknowing and afraid. Gwynfor stroked my cheek with his thumb in a quick move of comfort before he moved down the opposite hall. Next, there was Milistree who I had never met before today. Her teal eyes were filled with sorrow and another emotion I did not understand. She shook her head and would leave us both in the hallway.

"Lord Riq'ua," Sir Atrious gave a half resembled bow, unable to bow fully with me in his arms as I clutched him tighter.

"Sir Atrious, what of the boy?"

Lord Riq'ua's arms were crossed over his light grey-robed chest, his silver hair a curtain down his back, aqua eyes firm and fathomless. I did not know who he was then as I hardly came to the capital. There were too many people about, I could get lost, and I could get hurt or worse I could become sicker...So many reasons, so many excuses for my growing up nearly alone. On my fingers, I could count the number of times I had seen the royal castle, and when I had, I had not met many people.

"I must explain to his parents Milord, they have to know the grave news," once more I squeaked as I was clutched all the closer at the words, still not understanding and still distressed.

"Atrious?" I spoke aloud at last; teary-eyed and with hands grasping at his uniform once again. I had no idea what they were talking about. All I wanted was answers!

Brown eyes looked down at me and Atrious kissed my forehead.

"I will explain soon," he answered me and my eyes dropped, curling against his chest again. Riq'ua pushed away from the wall to lead the way down the hallway. Feeling chastised I remained quiet and watched nobles pass us in their vibrant dresses and doublets as we walked down the hall to the main stairway.

I watched the people who climbed down the grand staircase with us, servant, knight, and noble with no knowledge of who they were. Which of them were close to my parents and did any of them know who I was? Few inclined their heads to us; with many more moving on without a thought to us. Sir Atrious at the bottom of the stairs steered right, coming to a stop before the guarded double wooden doors.

"Sir Atrious, their Majesties are in a diplomatic meeting with merchants from Rimedur," warned the guard and a deep frustrated sigh left Atrious but he nodded in understanding

"Pass the word that there are grave tidings from the clerics, but do so discreetly," he drew away to settle himself into a chair against the rear wall. Hands on my waist he settled me onto his lap and I cocked my head at him, "Atrious, what is wrong? Please tell me!"

Already I had known something was not right but now I worried more; Sir Atrious wouldn't try to call my parents out of a meeting if something wasn't very wrong.

"Your Highness..." The deep voice trailed off and my hands touched stubble-covered cheeks as his brown eyes looked to the double doors, waiting for my parents to come out.

Again! Again I felt that stab of pain; I could feel the sadness leak off the Knight who held me.

"What's wrong? Why is everyone so sad?" my voice was higher, hands growing sweaty against his cheeks. Shifting on his lap I was unable to get comfortable.

Arms pulled me to his chest and with my cheek against his beating heart I still could not make sense of what was going on, but I could feel my fear rising. Strangers were all around me, people were sad, my parents weren't there to comfort me and Sir Atrious would not tell me anything! A hiccup escaped as tears welled up, sniffles shortly followed, and hands rubbed my back.

"Shh...Everything will be explained soon, your highness."

Tears escaped and my fists held onto the Knight's uniform as he tried to calm me, but I was far too scared now and could not be calmed so easily. Sniffling and trembling against him, Sir Atrious began to lightly bump me on his knee and I squeaked at first and then I laughed against his chest, clinging to him. My breathing was going to make me cough soon because of the laughter, that was always what happened, but I just let myself laugh anyway. The tears still fell but now it was from a mixture of laughter and pain, the giggling causing my lungs to work harder, and I could feel my breaths grow short. My Father's love continued to bounce me gently on his knee and although some would consider me too old to enjoy such a thing, I did not know that. I was distracted from my worries and cares, as Sir Atrious was happier now himself as well.

"Tell me about life at the cabin my Prince?" and the bouncing slowed so I could regain my breath to speak.

My nose scrunched up as I thought of what to say, taking the time to allow my lungs to fill again with faltering breath, "Lots of painting. Papa helped me finish painting my room! I would like you to see it Sir Atrious, the walls are cloudy skies and trees, and the ceiling is the stars with the Sun and the Moon."

As the courtiers who passed by us had no reason to feel sad I was beginning to calm and I smiled at the Knight, my palms against his chest.

"Will you come to see it?"

"I would like to see what you have painted, my Prince," Sir Atrious smiled at me and hugged me gently, close to his chest. "A ceiling of stars? And the walls are trees and the sky? That sounds wonderful and painted by you and your Father, it must be beautiful to behold."

I clutched at the Knight's back with my small fingers, "Green hills, and big pine trees and fluffy clouds!"

I coughed as I laughed. Sir Atrious gently pat my back as I coughed and the feeling of the earlier sadness came slowly back, right into Atrious's eyes.

I was about to ask again what was wrong, to try to push Sir Atrious to explain to me when the double doors opened and my parents stepped out looking for us. When Elaina saw me in Atrious's arms with teary eyes she immediately came over and gathered me into her embrace. With all the layers and materials her dress was made from it was not very comfortable but I didn't care, my mother and father were here and they would surely answer me!

"Mama," I spoke up, hands fisting her blonde hair sniffling against the lace of her courtly attire. She nosed my cheek and I giggled softly as she pressed a kiss there too before settling me back onto Sir Atrious's lap. I looked up to her and put my arms out like I had when I was younger, all I wanted right then was her arms, her smell. If they would not answer me at least give me the comfort of being held!

Denied this I curled into myself on the Sovereign Guard Commandant's lap as Sir Atrious explained what had been said at the earlier meeting. If not for my mother looking at me from the corner of her eye and gently caressing the contours of my face with her fingertips I would have thought that my presence was completely forgotten.

Peter was nearly panicking, which was only making me more nervous. Talk of their needing another heir, and the land not having a King. Elaina was silent as she listened but she kept looking at me, catching my attention and giving me small smiles. Even with her silent reassurances, I was tired of not knowing what was going on! I fidgeted on Sir Atrious's lap and just as I opened my lips to ask for an explanation, Sir Atrious squeezed my sides before I could get the words out!

My mother would put up her hand to halt my father so she could speak her piece, "It took me four years to conceive Nathanael, Peter. How many times have we tried since then?" There was exhaustion in my mother's words that I did not understand, and her normally bright, blue eyes were dull.

"Elaina, not this again," Peter shook his head, arms crossed before his chest.

"Peter! You must have a new wife; I am either now infertile or nearly so. Divorce me Peter Quele, and take a new wife. You know the council and His Eminence are only going to stay quiet upon this for so long. For the stability of the Empire, you have to do this. "

Peter looked like he had been physically hit by my Mother's words, posture crumbling, his eyes at once much younger than his twenty-eight years, fearful and frantic, "Elaina..."

"Mother?" I tried to wiggle my way out of Sir Atrious's hold. Why were they talking about leaving each other? Did they not love each other any longer? The sadness had been about me, right? Was this my fault?

"Papa?" I was panicking, and once I had struggled out of Sir Atrious's arms and made it to the floor I grabbed onto my father around the waist burying my tear-stricken face into his doublet. My chest was heaving, my vision was dimming, and my form was trembling as my father gently pushed me back so he could crouch at my level.

"Nathanael-," my father looked at my red face, then to my mother behind me. He was clueless as to what to say and my mother massaged my shoulders from behind, leaning down to blow soft air against my ear. "Shhh, you're only making it harder for you to breathe, my Little-Blessing."

I tried to calm down. I began to count my breaths, one large breath in; three little breaths out like mother had taught me. Peter kissed my brow and unfurled to his feet, "I told you, Elaina, you are my wife. I will not leave you."

Sir Atrious stepped closer to the three of us after standing, looking about the grand hall where we all stood. He spoke up in a calm but formal tone before my mother could speak again, "Your Majesties, should this conversation be had in such a public place?"

An uncomfortable silence filled the air alongside my difficult breathing and the sound of distant conversations. Peter patted my back to help me breathe and one of the two wooden doors behind us opened.

"Your Majesties?" A Scribe looked at my parents from the half-open door. "Your presence is required in the trade negotiations. The proceedings will have to be halted otherwise."

Peter made a frustrated sound deep in his throat, "Yes, yes. Give us another moment if you would," waving the Scribe off.

The Scribe nodded and darted back inside, the large wooden door closing loudly behind him. Elaina sighed leaning down to kiss my bald head. "There is nothing we can do for it, bring him back to the cabin Sir Atrious. Explain to Thom what you heard in the meeting; make certain he can keep his own emotions in check before he explains to Nathanael."

My mother gently turned me and cupped my chin in her hand, "We will be home this evening, my Little Blessing. Until then be good for Thom, please Nathanael?"

I nodded, wishing to please her but I still did not know what was going on at all. Oh, I was becoming frustrated with myself for not speaking up more and with my parents for not explaining anything! It seemed that no one wished to tell me and they were just shifting who was going to do it, from Sir Atrious to my parents and at last to Thom. Sir Atrious scooped me up and I started to cry again, heavier this time, putting out my arms for my mother who looked herself heartbroken and torn between the meeting and being with me. Peter grasped my mother's hand, murmuring to her words that seemed to only make it harder for her to swallow back her emotions.

My Mother's strong voice quivered before a Guard opened the Council Room doors, "Thom will explain everything to you, Nathanael...and we will come to the cabin this evening, I promise. Please rest; you're pushing yourself too hard."

I gripped onto Sir Atrious's Sovereign Guard uniform, giving my mother a faint nod before hiding my face in the clothed shoulder of the man that held me. Father told me I was getting too old to break down like this and I was trying. But I was still so confused, afraid of everything that had yet to be explained to me.

Holding the wooden door open with one hand, my father instructs Sir Atrious from behind us, "Once you bring him to the cabin Sir Atrious, I will require your presence at the trade meeting."

Sir Atrious turned toward my Father and he inclined his head, no emotion showing on his face, "Of course you're Majesty."

So I was taken to the cabin through the teleportation circles. Mother was right; I was growing weary and I did not want to make my breathing any harder. I curled against the man who my Father loved, unable to do much besides that until Thom would explain everything to me.

I was set down and then left in the sitting room of the cabin as Sir Atrious made his way down the steps into the basement level. Confused, I curled my arms about my legs, drawing my knees to my face. Waiting and waiting, I rocked back and forth on the wood floor. What was more waiting anymore? No one would tell me anything anyway.

Two sets of boots on the stairs and I looked up, searching for the head of unruly red curls that I knew was Thom's. Sir Atrious stepped aside; first off the steps, so I could see Thom. Thom’s smile was much smaller than any I had seen him give me before. My brows furrowed and my best friend knelt by my side.

"Nate," Thom rubbed my shoulders and I peered up at him.

"Alright...umm-," his brows furrowed but he gave a nod and surged on, "I don't know when, but because of the illness wearing you out, your body is going to stop working, you won't be able to hear or see, or talk or..." Thom took a deep breath and swallowed hard before continuing to speak, in an attempt to keep control of his emotions.

"You're going to go for a very long sleep, a sleep you won't wake up from. So you won't get to come back. The ArchAngel Ashriel will come and pick you up and bring you to a place where your body will sleep for a long time. Where you won't hurt anymore and you will have an easier time breathing."

"Sleep?" I still did not understand and Thom nodded again, still rubbing my back.

"But you see, when you go, Ashriel is going to come for just you. That's the sad part, that's why everyone has been so sad. Only you will get to go to this peaceful place where you can sleep, your parents can't come with you yet and I just, I can't."

"Why? I want you to come with me!" Clutching his waist hard, I pleaded with eyes and words to my best friend, the boy I had been married to since birth.

"I want to come with you but I can't...I'm a child of Nanqa, we go to the River, where you will go to the Halls. But once you're sleeping in this special sleep you won't be alone. I know your ancestors will likely be with you, so you will have company."

"I just-just won't go to sleep! If I don't sleep then I won't be alone and the Angel cannot take me away."

Thom grimaced uncertain what to say and I pulled away, starting to cry, shaking my head, "I don't want to go Thom!"

"I'm sorry Nate," Thom's voice cracked with puberty and distress, "You're going to have to sleep sooner or later but it's not the same kind of... Oh Nanqa, I'm messing this up. I'm sorry. I don't know how to do this; the afterlife is different for Royalians and Camarians. I want to come with you when you go, but I can't, Reinn Anon would never allow it."

My parents had left another child to attempt to explain to me what death was and how I would die from my illness at some point soon. Thom had done the best that he knew how especially given that we were of two different and disagreeable Gods and once we died we would go on to different places. Yet I still did not understand, and that sadness and lack of understanding turned from a child's desperation to rage. I had been handed from person to person with no one taking the time to give me clarity and they had left me with my husband, who was only fourteen, to finally explain.

My heart began to race, my breathing becoming ragged on the cabin floor. Why had they waited? Everyone had left me ignorant as they put me through all of the experiments and magic that had been painful and only left my body weaker. My hair had begun to fall out years ago, leaving me bald and my body given to curious shakes. I had always suspected there was something wrong with me but I had never really known what beyond the basic understanding of being ill and weak.

I was so angry at my parents for keeping this from me and leaving Thom to explain. I was angry at my body for the illness that was going to make me go into this terrible sleep where I may never see Thom again. I did not want to go where I would be separated from Thom, Momma, and Papa!

I was only nine years old and I quite simply did not want to die.

Thom's chest became a wall on which to beat with clenched fists. But my best friend only hugged me tighter to him as I sobbed and had a tantrum against the unfairness of the Gods taking me away from him and my family. There were good, rational reasons why I did not have outbursts of anger. It often left me bedridden due to my gasping for air and increased heart rate. But I didn't care right then, no, I pummelled on Thom's chest, my blows only beginning to soften as darkness entered the corners of my vision. Blurred with tears and gulping hot air against the wool of Thom's sweater, my body shook with exhaustion.

Thom had been singing while I raged, a song I had heard him sing to me before. Verses meant to comfort, and calm. Words that he always sang to me when we were alone, his voice barely above a whisper like a secret only we shared.

"…Nothing shall disturb your slumber deep,

as you are guided home in your sleep.

I'll protect you from harm,

and you'll wake in my arms."

Afraid now to sleep, the lullaby had the opposite effect. The black spots in front of my eyes were growing larger as the darkness crept in. Panicking, my fingers clutched at Thom's chest. Hands rubbed up and down my back. "Nate, you have to breathe, nice and slow."

Defiant, shaking my head was the last action I took as my over-breathing carried me into darkness.