Silence filled the room.
The servants had let the curtains down on either sides of the bed, and in it laid a sick man. His once blonde hair were now turning grey with each passing day, and his brown eyes were hidden behind his tired eyelids.
"His pain seems to have gotten mild now."
He heard a maid whisper at the foot of his bed.
"Thank goodness. We shall wait outside, and let the master rest."
His butler said in response, and he heard their muffled footsteps walk away from the bed. Following that was a sound of the door being opened. A slight creak and then, a click.
The door's handle came to a rest, and there it was again; the haunting silence.
"Hmm!"
He groaned in his bed, and feebly grabbed the bedsheet with his shaking hand. He crumpled it inside his weak fist, and there appeared wrinkles on his closed eyelids. He opened them, slowly. His bedroom was dimly lit.
He blinked.
The lamp standing tall beside his bed casted its rich golden light over the right half of his body.
'Is it still night?'
He glanced over at the large window to the left of his bed. It had been left open by his maid, and the thin silk curtains that stood hanging on its sides would flutter every once in a while as the wind blew inside the Viscount's room.
The sky outside was still dark with a thin streak of misty clouds painted sluggishly across it. From the horizon far far away, sun rays were starting to sprout, adding a touch of their brilliant red and orange shades to the painting of the sky.
A new day was about to start.
Viscount Barell pressed his cheek against his pillow, his eyes reflecting the heaviness that he felt inside his chest. It was a feeling he was painfully familiar with.
Guilt.
It had been biting away at his conscience, little by little, since the day he had sold his sister and her only child ten years ago.
There appeared a silhouette on the window's curtain. Something was sitting on the windowsill.
Chirp!
'A bird?'
He blinked, and the shadow vanished. Then came a gust of fresh air, aggressively fluttering the curtains around his bed. It disheveled Barell's hair, and he shook his head to move the strands away from his eyes.
That silhouette was standing there, right beside his bed, but hidden by the curtains.
It was of a man. Someone tall with broad shoulders.
"Is it the grim reaper?" Barell whispered.
"Waiting for death, viscount?"
His voice was hoarse as if he hadn't spoken for a while.
"I can't feel my legs."
He turned his head, and looked up at the canopy of his bed.
"Can a sinner not ask for death, boy?"
"Tch! A sinner? And still, you wouldn't atone for your sin?"
Barell shut his eyes, and a face came right in front of him. Those lively golden eyes, and that warm smile of hers.
"Malenda."
He whispered, and a drop of tear gathered in the corner of his eye. It rolled down his temple, and dripped softly on his pillow.
"I have regretted it every single day. Selling Malenda and Noah. Yes, I have."
"Regret? Hah!"
He sounded angry. No, annoyed at the Viscount's words.
"Your regret won't undo the pain you have inflicted upon them! You have scarred him for the rest of his life, you pathetic old man!"
His words were dripping with pure hatred.
"Then, he should have killed him."
The Viscount's voice was barely audible, but he knew that the man could hear him clearly.
"Trust me, I wanted nothing more than that. He should have shot you in the head instead! Do you know what Noah had said to me?"
He heard him take a step closer to the bed.
"Death would be too easy a punishment for him, Rein. He shall know what pain and helplessness is just like my mother."
A whimper left Barell's lips, and he turned his head away. Underneath the sheets, his feeble body trembled as silent tears soaked his pillowcase.
"Hic!"
He buried his face in the pillow, wishing nothing more than to hide himself, erase his very existence.
'Brother Barell! Look, Noah has started walking!'
It was a warm spring noon, and there she was, sitting down on the rug in the center of their living room. She had opened her arms.
'Come to mama!'
Noah had taken small, unsteady steps towards her. She had leaned forward and hugged her boy, kissing his chubby cheeks.
"Malenda."
Barell whispered against his pillow, and reached his hand out to touch her.
'Brother!'
She was right there in front of him.
Crack. Crack. Smash.
That world shattered the next instant, and fell apart like broken pieces of a glass.
"No! No!"
He cried as he reached out to grab the pieces. If only he could.
Darkness engulfed him. A chilling darkness that made his heart sink. Those lively eyes and warm smile were gone.
Forever.
"You should have killed me, Noah."
His pillow muffled his cries of agony, and that man stepped away from the bed. He grabbed the windowsill, and looked over his shoulder one last time, a look of pity and pain on his face.
"He is helpless and in pain, Noah. Just like you had wished. I wonder if Aunt Malenda is seeing this from the skies."
He whispered.
Outside the window, the sun had ascended from the horizon, throwing its golden red rays across the sky. They lit up the man's face, and revealed his blue eyes.
He wore a sleeveless black vest with a pair of white trousers. His long chestnut brown hair had been twisted back into a braid that came down to his waist around which a navy blue scarf had been tied. On his right forearm was an old linear scar that ran down to his wrist.
He put a foot on the windowsill, and pulled himself up. A gust of wind surrounded him, and his body began to glow with a golden radiance.
He morphed. His body shrank, and feathers erupted from under his skin. He felt his joints getting relocated, and claws replacing his fingers.
Chirp!
There sat a sparrow on the windowsill. It shook its head, rustling its feathers. It stretched out its wings.
Flap!
It flew out of the window, and into the sky.
The morning breeze was pleasantly cool with a sprinkle of dew in it. The day was just starting, and the city still had to wake up as the little sparrow flew over its deserted streets.
It flew over the chimneys of the many houses that lined the streets. It flew over a barking dog in someone's front yard. It flew over the carriage that rode down the main street, and saw the lazy footman yawning loudly in the driver's seat.
Ding! Dong!
The bell in the clock tower rang just when the bird flew past it. Down in the street, a young boy was pulling a wooden cart loaded with logs. Up ahead, a streak of greyish black smoke emitted from the chimney of a bakery.
"A copper coin for the newspaper!"
A boy cried, waving over his head a rolled up newspaper. Two little girls came running out of an alley, holding baskets of flowers in their hands. The lady at the teashop came to open the shop's door, and flipped the 'Closed' sign around.
Chirp! Chirp!
The sparrow flapped its small wings, and soared higher in the sky. It bathed in the warm rays of the morning sun. In the distance, it could see the tall iron gates of the Duke's manor.
Tall guards stood on either side of the gates. They wore dark green jackets over their white shirts, and their black trousers were tucked neatly inside their sturdy leather boots. Upon their broad shoulders, rested their capes that came down to their knees, their color being a shade lighter than that of the jackets. They had their swords and pistols in the belts that went around their waists.
Chirp!
The bird landed on the railing. In front of it stretched out vast gardens of the manor. A wide road of hard concrete led from the gates to the main building. It was lined on either sides by exotic trees and bushes.
A marble staircase led up to the colossal doors of the manor which themselves were made of the sturdiest of the metal. Their handles and hinges were carved out of gold.
The bird hopped at its spot a few times, before taking off once again. It flew over the road, passing by the gardeners who were busy tidying up the bushes. A maid hurried down the road with a pile of laundry in her arms. She went into the gardens, and then towards the back of the building. The bird recognized her easily for she was someone it saw every day.
It flapped its wings, and dived towards the trees that stood towering over the east wing of the house. It came to sit on one of the branches, and looked down at the large windows that lined the ground floor.
"These spoons go there!"
"Hurry! Has someone brought the tablecloth?"
"The soup's ready!"
The world on the other side of those windows was bubbling with life as maids and servants found themselves busy with the house chores.
Click!
One of the window was unlocked and left opened, and the sparrow was quick to fly inside. It was welcomed by a dense aroma of a freshly baked pie.
It landed on the windowsill, and pulled its wings closer to its small body. It shook itself, from head to toe, making its feathers stand on their ends.
"You look like a fur ball, Chirpy!"
There was a soft chuckling sound, and the bird looked up from its feet.
'Salina!'
Chirp!
The princess stood in front of the table, a small grin on her face. She bent over, and extended a hand out towards the sparrow.
"Good morning to you too, Chirpy!"
The bird was quick to jump into her palm.
Chirp! Chirp!
"Impatient as always."
She chuckled, and carried it towards the cabinets. She took out the jar of grains.
Chirp!
She let the bird down on the marble counter underneath the cabinets, and sprawled the grains down in front of it. There was a sound of footsteps behind her.
"My lady?"
Salina turned around upon hearing the head maid's voice. Chirpy jumped forward, and picked the grain up in its beak.
"Yes, Martha?"
"Tim won't be coming for a month," she said from the doorway.
"Here's the new servant as his replacement. He is his cousin."
Martha looked over her shoulder, and said, "Come in, boy."
Salina leaned against the counter, hiding the bird in her shadow.
"Why? Is Tim sick?"
"No, his mother is, and he has taken her to the countryside for her recovery."
"Hmm..."
The new servant stepped into the kitchen.
"Yes, Madam Martha?"
He asked, and pushed his big, round glasses up his nose. A white button up shirt, and a pair of new black trousers. He was dressed in the servant's uniform. There was a black bowtie that went around his collars, and his black hair came down to his shoulders. He had brushed his bangs back, and tied them into a small bun that rested on the back of his head.
"Boy, meet Princess Salina."
"I greet my lady."
He placed a gloved hand on his chest, and tilted his head forward.
"Nice to meet you. Martha, what did you say his name was?"
Chirpy picked a grain up in its beak, and hopped across the counter. It peeked from the side of Salina's skirt.
Chirp!
The grain fell down from its beak.
'Noah!?'
"It's Adrian, my lady."
The servant answered, those golden brown eyes glimmering underneath the light of the kitchen's bulb.