Under the Moonlight, during a cold winter night, as the Stars shined bright in the sky, filling by Their light the emptiness of the darkness, Aeneas came across a sinister sight. The Master of the Night had received from his new Receptacle a strange request, leading Him to the forest separating the Demons and the Wolfs of Elyon's Lands.
As the Moon watched with a impenetrable gaze, Her who looked upon the worlds with a cold stare, as the flames danced gently with the wind, the smoke escaping the fire rising toward the nocturnal sky, moving like a snake, a young brown skin child stood there. His eyes full of tears were fixed on the inferno as the two corpses trapped inside the blaze were slowly turning to ashes. Furthermore, this child looked rather young to be standing in front of such a disturbing display. All alone he clenched his tiny hand together, his breath creating a small cloud of smoke and his little body shivering slightly.
Aeneas whistled, letting the sound be carried by the wind to the child's ears. He flinched, as if getting out of a trance, before turning to Him, his red eyes shining with a surprise who quickly turned into a mixture of fear. Another whistle and the wind died, the flames going still as the shadows of the trees rised from the ground, spreading all around them to form a thick dome, sending everything in a state of complete silence. The little child stumbled, his eyes widening under confusion as he looked up at the now purple Moon.
The grey clouds were frozen in the black sky. Not a sound disrupted the atmosphere. Neither the singing of the insect of the night, nor the rustles of the leaves or the whispers of the wind. Aeneas leaned forward, his hair brushing against the fire as He tried to get a better look at the child. Looking closer, He could see the energy emitted by his soul, an almagame of fire and gloom. Such a small being, Aeneas thought, were young Souls always so small ? The child sniffed, wiping his tears while looking at Him in silence. The Master of the Night did not know if he is just shy or if he too scared to speak, nor did He know what to do or say to appease him. Therefore, He focused on the two corpses.
"Who are they ?"
The child blinked before turning back to the burning bodies, his eyes purposefully avoiding the fire as if he was scared to look at it.
"Papa and mam-" he paused. "Papa and madam."
"Madam ?"
The child nodded.
"This is how mama wanted me to call her." He explained in a voice strained by tears.
"Why are they being burned ?"
"Uncle Izok said that criminals don't deserves to be buried. It's the Clan's rules." he replied in a low voice, his hands rubbing his eyes to get rid of the tears.
Aeneas nodded, not surprised. Sinners have always received quite a harsh punishment for their crimes, whether it was when they were alive, or once they reached the Realm of Death. However, He is quite curious to know what did they do to suffer such a fate.
"What crime did they commit ?" He decided to asked.
The child didn't respond immediately, sniffing once again. Aeneas glanced at the frozen smoke, waiting patiently for him to speak again. All the while He speculated about what horrible deed they did. Theft maybe. Or perhaps they show disrespect to a divine being ?
"They loved each other."
He tilted His head. Now this is new. Aeneas was not aware that being in love is a crime nowadays. Souls are such strange beings. Or rather, the way their societies evolved is quite strange. He do know that they sadly always had a certain interest for destruction and violence, but He assumed that love would forever be something that they celebrate and cherished. Yes, love isn't perfect, but does it a punishment ?
"I see."
"Is love bad...?" The child asked hesitantly.
Before He could think, the following words glides down on His tongue, coming out in a low whisper. "Love is like a poison hidden inside a delicious offering. At first it look nice and sweet, filling you with joy, but once you take a bite, it slowly destroy your spirit until you are nothing more than a broken version of yourself."
The child lowered his gaze without saying anything, but it is obvious that perhaps He should have used different words.
"But I suppose that sometimes an offering is just an offering."
He do not dare to ask why does he have to stand in front of such a dark spectacle as He is too afraid of the answers He might get. Instead, He inquired about his age.
"I'm five years old..."
Why is such a young thing standing alone in the middle of the Night, witnessing the burning of his parents ? Aeneas looked at the Moon, sighing as He realized that the dome is starting to weaken. He had already spent too much time here, He needed to go back, yet He simply cannot abandon this poor child here. Not only would it be too cruel, but He also promised His Receptacle to make sure he made it back home safely.
"Is it not past your bedtime, young Soul ? Shouldn't you be going home ?"
"But uncle said I have to stay until papa and madam bodies are gone."
"They will never be able to rest peacefully if they are aware that you stay outside in the cold. So come, let their souls rest without worry."
He reached out a hand but the child took a step back, looking away, nervously fidgeting with his fingers. Understanding that he was not planning to leave until there was nothing else but dust, Aeneas realized that He have two options : stay with him until the corpses are completely incinerated or accelerate the processus Himself.
"Can you close your eyes for me ?"
The child hesitated a bit but, with a small nod, closed his eyes. Aeneas let out a breath, allowing a small opening in the dome, changing the direction and force of the wind to extinguish the fire. Once the flames gone, He ordered the shadows on the ground to wrapped around the bodies. He apologized to the Death's Deity but He shall bring those Souls to His Realm. The bodies were quickly and silently absorbed by the shadows, leaving nothing but burnt grasses. Satisfied, He softly told the child to open his eyes. He obliged, his expression turning to surprise as he realized that there was no corpses left. Completely dumbfounded, he stared at the place where the fire was in complete silence.
Aeneas leaned forward again, gently asking the child to look at Him. He raised his head and He managed to lock eyes with him. Aeneas wanted him to forget the sight of his deceased parents being turned to dust. He blinked a little, his red irises becoming a little dazed. After a few seconds he tilted his head, the sadness in his gaze slowly being replaced by curiosity. Good, Aeneas thought, let the darkness absorb your pain, young Soul, let me endure it for you.
"How old are you, mister ?"
He thought for a few seconds, maybe one or two minutes, before answering.
"I do not know."
As much as He would have liked to answer his question, He unfortunately do not know how many years has passed since He last left His Realm.
Aeneas looked at the child silently before waving a hand, gently lifting him off the ground before settling him in His arms. Once again, He is amazed by how small he is. He is by no means a tall being, well He suppose for normal Souls He is, and He had made sure to reduce my size when He went to see His Receptacle as to fit in his bedroom and to economize energy. He still haven't go back to His normal height but nevertheless, He feel like young Souls these days are too tiny. He wondered, if His dear friend were to hold him, what would he looks like in Her arms as She as always been way taller than Him.
As He asked Himself that, the child looked up at Him, his eyes twinkling with a lot of conflicting emotions.
"Who are you ?" He asked in a whisper.
"..."
Aeneas smiled gently at him before answering.
"I am the First Night."
The child's eyes shined brighter and he snuggled up against His chest. As He carried him, He softly hummed His personal lullaby. The only song that He will never forget despite the many centuries He have spent alive. The child slowly closed his eyes.
"What is your name, young Soul ?"
As the darkness slowly wrapped around them, the Moon narrowing Her eyes as they disappeared, the child answered in a drowsy voice :
"Ethan."