He would always know and remember that his birth meant the death of his parents.
It was a bitterly cold January morning. The sky was bright and filled with stars and if weren't for the city lights one might have been able to see the Milky Way in all of its glory. But the birth of this child got even the Moon curious. Unfortunately, it was tilted the other way and currently orbiting on the wrong side of the planet, so it didn't have the chance to witness the actual event. But when it passed by a couple of weeks later, it tried to peer down extra carefully. From that moment on, whenever the Moon sailed above the skies, it looked down and observed the life of this young, strange man. It missed his birth but was more than satisfied to see what happened in his life.
On that dark, dark morning the boy was just a couple of hours old and didn't know his mother was struggling for her life. He was a completely normal baby, weighed about six pounds, and as he emerged from his mother's womb, he cried like all the other babies that were born on that same night. There was nothing exceptional about his birth. He wasn't celebrated as the new Messiah or had horns and a crooked tale like the son of the Devil.
He was placed on his mother's breasts and when he recognized the familiar heartbeat, the familiar breathing, and his mother's hands on his small head, he calmed down. But after a few precious moments, he was taken away into the arms of a caring nurse who washed him, weighted him, wrapped him in warm clothes, and placed him on a small crib. Then he was taken away from the delivery room. At that point, it didn't matter who took care of him as long as he was warm and safe and fed. He didn't miss the woman whose voice he'd never heard and whose face he'd never seen.
If his mother was not struggling for her life they would have allowed him to stay next to her longer. But she was in labor for hours and lost a lot of blood. Giving birth to him ended her life. And on that early winter morning, her newborn baby inadvertently called two people to his bedside. They were not ordinary people, but of course, he knew that perfectly well. It was an instinctive, unconscious cry for help that brought them to him. He was sleeping calmly in his small crib, dressed in tiny pajamas and wearing a small, turquoise cap, completely ignorant of the pain that his mother was going through. If he wasn't a baby, someone might have called him selfish and shameless.
A young man materialized out of thin air. He was tall, dark-haired, slender. Neatly trimmed goatee, chocolate brown eyes, dark sleek eyebrows, and thin lips with a stern expression. His short hair was messy like he was just awakened from a deep sleep and didn't really understand where he was. He looked around in the room that was filled with newborn children and without even realizing it, his feet led him to the crib of a certain baby boy. As he watched the little baby, confusion made his brows knit together. He leaned a little closer as if to dig into the child's mind and find the reason why he was invited here. Clearly, that's what happened. He didn't come here on his own accord. He wasn't asked to come, no one asked his opinion. He was forced to come. He paid little attention to the other man that appeared on the opposite side of the crib.
This other creature was absolutely gorgeous, too beautiful to be a simple human. Long, dazzling, blond hair, a face like an angel, silky and smooth and pale. Sparkling blue eyes and a striking smile on his luscious lips. He was always in the right place at the right time. He wore a vibrant, violet suit with a fashionable yellow vest. He enjoyed this game and this facade and rarely walked out in the open wearing his true face. Few people were able to resist his beauty and accompanied him willingly. He attracted all genders. After all, wasn't it more pleasurable to leave this mortal plane if you could do it in a company of a beautiful, attractive person?
A nurse came by the maternity ward but paid no attention to the two men. She walked to the crib and caressed the child's soft cheek. She smiled but it was a sad, pitiful smile and she felt very sorry for this little, handsome guy. She wrote down something on the patient card, and then she turned and walked straight through the tall, dark-haired man. She didn't see him or feel anything in particular as she passed through his body and he barely noticed her. His gaze was still focused on the child that lay sleeping in his crib.
"Surprise, surprise," the long-haired, dazzling man chuckled. "What have we here? A real cutie, don't you think so?"
The tall, dark-haired man didn't answer. He looked at the child, stared at him, and then he rubbed his chin. It was a gesture of nervousness and confusion, something he always did when he was puzzled or his brain was working on a difficult problem he encountered. The soft bristles of his beard usually gave him a sense of security and calmed him down. He didn't know why he was here. Did the child call him? Invited him here? He glanced up at his old, beautiful friend and his eyes narrowed.
"Ruben, is he going to die?" he asked.
The young, gorgeous Escort of death snapped his fingers and a bunch of papers emerged out of thin air. He put on a pair of round spectacles as if he needed them and ruffled the papers for a while. He read them through like he was actually looking for some elusive information he didn't already know. The dark-haired man sighed and rolled his eyes. "Do you really need to be so dramatic?" he murmured.
"Dorian, dear friend," the Escort replied. "It's how things work in my world. Death is constant drama or tears and breakdowns and enormous emotions. Some people even pee out of fright when they think about it. But have no fear, he is not going to die."
"Then why are you here?" Dorian asked.
"I could ask you the same question," Ruben grinned. "Were you called here for some specific reason? You are wearing your pajamas. I never knew you liked Moomin's that much."
"It's 4 AM," Dorian groaned. "I was sleeping and they are comfy. They don't chafe."
"Naturally," Ruben smiled. "I almost forgot that you are still that much of a human."
"Well?" Dorian looked at him. "Why are you here, then?"
"His mother is running out of time," Ruben snapped his fingers and the papers disappeared. "This little guy. Born just a few moments ago. One had to be rather cruel to take him away so soon, don't you agree?"
"The mother?" Dorian nodded. "I see."
"She has about eight minutes," Ruben glanced at his pocket watch and turned to his friend again. "In the meantime, I would like to know why you came here."
"You and me both," Dorian replied and combed his fingers through his dark, thick hair.
"You don't know?" Ruben leaned closer and gently touched the child's cheek. It was warm under his cold fingers. "There has to be a reason, right? Either he called you here or you came because you knew he was born. Which is it?"
"If I came here deliberately, do you think I'd come in my pajamas?" Dorian growled.
"How should I know?" Ruben chuckled. "You have a great body, you look great in them and you just told me they are comfy. Maybe it's your new style."
"If his mother is the one who is dying, why you came to him?" Dorian cleared his throat.
"I took a detour," Ruben explained. "I know why she is dying and I wanted to see the little rascal responsible. We don't get to see those too often these days. The ones who end up killing their parents on the day they are born."
"Parents?" Dorian raised his eyebrows. "I thought you only came for his mother."
"I met his father a couple of hours ago," Ruben smiled happily. "He slipped on the parking lot when he was running here to see his newborn son. Poor bastard banged his head on the ice and cracked his skull. When he realized he was dead, he was quite upset. I told him that his son was very cute, adorable, and extremely healthy. Imagine that. If he wasn't in such a hurry, he might still be alive," Ruben laughed. "Not really though, these things are planned very carefully."
Dorian frowned. This was rather strange. First the little guy's father and now his mother, a couple of hours later. What a rough start for life. He almost felt pity towards the little boy but he didn't understand where such feelings came from. Then he realized it was simple human sympathy. It was normal to feel bad when a newborn child is orphaned at birth. The bigger question still remained. Why was he here?
Ruben observed his friend and saw a mixture of emotions on his face. He had known this man for the past four hundred years and before their paths crossed, he'd heard of him and knew that he was an oddity, a strange phenomenon whose existence no one could or wanted to explain. Of course, he was created by something or someone but Ruben didn't have high enough clearance to get the answers he wanted. He didn't know how old Dorian was and what exactly he was, but the endless flow of time made them good friends. They were like brothers, part of a dysfunctional, strange family, slipping in and out of this world and its multiple plains. There was very little that could make Dorian surprised these days so naturally, they were both very curious when it came to this little man. Why this child called him here and how exactly did he do it.
"I have to go now," Ruben took his glasses off and folded them neatly inside his suit pocket.
"Go then," Dorian nodded.
"Are you going to adopt this little guy?" Ruben teased him. "If you keep him by your side at all times, you might find out how he managed to invite you here today."
"What makes you think I care?" Dorian muttered.
"As if I don't know you. You have a soft spot for poor little orphans," Ruben pointed out. "And even if this was the only time he used this little trick of his, you won't be able to sleep soundly for another two hundred years or so, am I right?"
"Probably an accident," Dorian muttered.
"Sure," Ruben laughed. "Let's call it that for now."
The beautiful, blond-haired death shrugged his shoulders. He waved his hand nonchalantly and walked out of the nursery. His slender figure moved like water toward the emergency ward. The tall, dark man knew very well that nothing else would happen here tonight, the child wouldn't open its mouth and tell him why he needed him here on the moment of its birth. He decided it was time for him to leave but he didn't know how exactly would he be able to achieve that. He didn't come here on his own after all. As he moved away from the crib the baby suddenly reached out his hand and grabbed his pinky finger. Dorian flinched. He was startled for the first time in nearly seven hundred years. The grip of the newborn was strong and unyielding.
When he turned the child's eyes were open. Two deep blue orbs bore into his skull. He had never seen such a gaze in the eyes of a child. He was sure the baby knew who he was. This little brat had all the answers and was determined to keep him by his side. Even though he couldn't talk, his eyes spoke of secrets and knowledge that were not from this world. He swallowed and tried to yank his finger away but as he did so the child's grip tightened. The baby didn't cry or scream. Its little face didn't twist the way some babies do just before they start to weep. It was simply holding his finger in its small, tight fist.
A couple of minutes later a young, beautiful man walked by the nursery. His smile was assuring and his arm was wrapped around a woman's shoulder. The lady he was with was short, thin, and devastatingly pale. They momentarily stopped by the nursery and she looked through the window. The woman lifted her hand and watched the child who was still holding the stranger's finger in its small fist. The child turned its head towards his mother. She smiled, tears welled in her eyes and she mouthed the words "love you." Then Ruben gently guided the woman away and they disappeared around the corner. Dorian felt how the grip loosened and his finger was slowly released.
When he turned to look at the child, he had already closed his eyes and was once again quietly and innocently sleeping in his crib, safely under the soft, warm blankets.