The Son of Night & Spring

Chapter Six

It was a plain gold chain, no thicker than a few strands of hair.

"I suggest giving him time, change never comes so easily."

When Madja had a last look over him, his Mother and mate finally left Lotus alone. Wishing him a goodnight as they winnowed away.

That's when the silent stepped in, darkness lurking in every corner of the room. The only sound hearable was the light step of his feet as he walked towards the huge curtains.

When he slid them open, he was presented with a view of the whole city.

The Court of Dreams, he learned it was called.

Velaris.

His eyes gazed at how the stars illuminated the city, like small glowing orbs of fire, bringing light and chasing away the monsters that lived in the dark.

However, what Lotus had learned was that in both courts of Nightmares and Dreams was that the people were not afraid of the dark. They didn't fear the monsters the shadows might hide.

They danced with dark, laughed with their fears.

They were the creatures that walked in dreams and stood in the darkness.

They were the things lurking in the dark.

He shivered, ignoring the instinct to go and grab the blanket laying on the bed. He curled on the floor, resting in front of the window as he watched the night.

Madja was right. Change never comes easy.

Lotus didn't want change.

He wanted to go back to Spring, lay in the warm grass where dandelions grew and butterflies flew and ladybugs laid on him as he drank in the sun and its warmth.

He wanted to paint his Father sitting on the throne, his brow scrunched together in focus as he looked over papers, smiling as he looked up and saw Lotus spying on him.

He wanted his Mother to braid his hair, humming as he read her one of his soft romance stories.

He wanted his Mother.

He felt tears built up in his eyes, a sob working up his throat. Madja was right, he was coping.

Not because he left Spring, not because he moved to the Court of Night. Not because he now had a new family.

It was because he felt like his Mother died.

A strange female that sounded and felt like her but wasn't. His Mother was clumsy and shy, she counted on Lotus when she needed to reach something off the top shelf. She leaned on him when she wasn't feeling good, and let him dot on her until she did.

This female who now stood in her place was different. She was strong and graceful. She stood on her own and didn't need anyone's help reaching things. She didn't need to lean on him, let him dot or take care of her.

She was confident and powerful. She glowed with starlight and walked with pride.

She laughed and smiled. She was happy.

That was what hurt.

His Mother was dead until now. Now she was alive, now she was her.

And he didn't notice it. He couldn't help it.

Lotus broke.

The room is filled with the sounds of sobs and cries. Each like a powerful blow to his heart. Clenching and twisting, he felt it was going to burst.

The acid feeling in his throat he bit his lip, trying to keep quiet.

He couldn't stop the tears, the pain, the anguish.

It keeps getting worse and worse. Lasting hours and hours until all that was left was numbness.

What a relief it was to feel absolutely nothing except the emptiness of feeling.

He wasn't sure how long he stayed there, curled up on the floor, wet with tears of pain. His skin was cold like ice and bones so weak he didn't think he could get up and walk to the bed.

His stomach growled with hunger and Lotus closed his eyes, wishing the hunger away.

Then he felt warmth.

A blanket was curled around him and the fireplace lit with flame.

In front lay a bowl of soup.

The scent of eggs, potatoes and bread filling his nose. Lotus managed to find the strength to move, carefully picking the pot to let any spill, ignoring the burning pain as he picked up the spoon, blowing slightly as he ate.

It was a painful, delicious pleasure as the flavors melted in his mouth.

He ate softly as he dipped some bread into the soup, the soft cackling of burning wood relaxing him. Warming him as did the meal and blanket.

Once he was done, the plate then disappeared.

His eyes widened as he looked to where it might have gone when a book then appeared in his lap.

Monarch & Martyr, the Title read.

The pages were rough and yet soft at the same time as he dragged his fingers over it.

The fire, the blanket, the soup, the book.

Either his Mother was playing tricks on him or it was the House.

However Lotus didn't complain as he started to read whispering small 'thank-yous' as he started to take in the ink on paper.

If the House was a person, Lotus was sure they'd be his favorite.

He ate in small sips, savoring each spoon of flavor, knowing he was going to miss this while he was away.