Order of the Lost

A Bumpy Start

"Get out of your room, Cain. It's been a week, you need to eat more than microwaved popcorn and chips." Ansel leaned against Cain's door, knowing it was locked but still wanting to be there for his nephew. 

Ansel's wings twitched in annoyance, a habit he'd never learned to control. He was worried for Cain, and he wishes the best for him, but sometimes he gets annoyed at the littlest things. It was a family trait, he was sure they all had it.

He sighed, feeling the top of Cain's door frame for the key to his door. He wasn't going to open the door before, but the silence of the other side was unnerving. He wasn't going to do anything, just check in on the kid; he was only fourteen after all.

It had been a week since his three nephews had been burdened with the news of their parents' deaths. They were all so young, none of them deserved this. Ansel didn't have much of a relationship with the boys, but now he was forced to and he felt like that was the reason they were so cold.

Of course, the other two boys hadn't reacted as horribly as Cain. Lucien hadn't spoken since he heard the news, he refused to even make a sound. It was worrying, sure, but not harmful. He'd have to talk sometime, or at least learn some other form of communication because school for all three of them starts in a week. If Ansel could, he'd homeschool them along with his wife, but he had important work and so did she.

Averill didn't seem to react at all, which scared Ansel slightly. He wasn't usually one to show emotions anyway, but when something like this happens Ansel expected even a slight hint of sadness. But Ave showed no signs of sorrow.

He ate properly, he kept up his good hygiene, he kept his long, strawberry blond hair nice and tidy, he had a good sleep schedule, and he even helped out with chores. Ave was perfectly fine and as kind as he had always been. Maybe his reaction was going to be late. Or maybe he didn't care at all.

Ansel shook his head at the thought; no, Ave definitely cared about his parents.

He unlocked the door and gently pushed it open. "Cain? Do you think you can come down and eat with us? I'm coming in."

He heard no sound of protest so he shuffled into the room, keeping his wings tight against his back in case there was something fragile he might knock over. He spotted Cain laying on his bed, face blank and paled. His curly ram horns had been wrapped neatly in cloth so he didn't tear up his pillow while he slept. His rich brown, almost red eyes stared blankly at the ceiling.

"Cain? Can you come down and eat with us?" Ansel asked again, crouching beside the bed and running a hand through Cain's hair, being mindful of the well-tied cloth.

Cain's eyes moved to meet Ansel's soft green ones. His eyes were puffy and red from crying, and bags rested under them from lack of sleep. He shook his head slowly, pulling his comforter over his head after batting Ansel's hand away.

"How about this; if you come down and eat dinner with us, I'll take you flying." He offered with a smile. Cain peaked his head out from underneath his blanket. "I'll even let you bring your water gun with you."

Cain sat up, slowly stepping out of his bed. Ansel stepped back but stayed close enough if Cain needed assistance. He stood up, testing the feeling before taking a step forward and losing his balance. Ansel caught him in time but he was limping the whole way to the kitchen table. 

Aliz, Ansel's wife, sat with the other two boys at the table. She was bouncing a light conversation between herself and Ave, flipping through topics like she was on a time limit. Lucien was silently eating his lamb while trying to tune out the talking. Aliz glanced up and gasped when she saw Cain.

"Cain, you look like a walking skeleton!" She remarked, getting up to prepare him a plate of food. Cain was gently escorted to his chair and he sat slumped waiting for his food. "Here, darling, eat something healthy."