Lotus woke up to darkness.
The sheets of the bed soaked with sweat as he sat up, wincing as his body ached to the sudden move. He felt weak and yet at the same time strong. His body trembled with new power as he walked to the bath.
Washing himself with cold water woke him, the sweet scented oils relaxing his muscles.
He could feel every water droplet as it ran down his skin as he stepped out. Ignoring the mess he made when he pulled the curtains open.
No light came in as it was five in the morning. Either way he drank in the view of how the Court of Dreams, which was always dancing, singing, buzzing, humming with life- stop as the oblivion of darkness and sleep took over.
Just for those few seconds, Lotus could understand why they thought the City was beautiful.
He enjoyed the stillness, the quiet.
Lotus dried himself, sliding on an emerald button up shirt with dark walnut pants, Pulling his hair into a man-bun as he prepared himself.
In a few hours, he would travel to the Spring Court, for in two days, starting today, Calanmai would start. And Lotus will perform in the Great Rite in front of Fire Night.
***
As he walked through the dark halls of the House of Wind, the sun was starting to rise over the Mountains, shining over Velaris. The City once silent and calm, buzzing with excitement again.
When he opened the door to the main room, it laid empty as no one seemed to be awake or simply didn't want to interact with him.
After last night's... episode. Lotus wasn't surprised if they didn't bother seeing him off. But he didn't care about them. They could bleed next to him, begging for life and yet he would still walk away to make sure Nyx and his Mother were alright.
He knew he'd hurt her. He didn't mean too.
His Father probably didn't mean too and yet he did.
So did Lotus.
He winced, he was his Father's Son. Always the villain, never the hero.
As he pulled a chair, the House placed a hot steamy soup for him, filled with eggs, potatoes and cilantro sprinkled on top. Beside it, a loaf of bread laid there with a cooled glass of water.
When he was younger, just a few days after moving to the Night court, Lotus had gotten sick. Could hardly keep anything in his stomach without later throwing it up.
They had called Madja, a High Fae female who was one of the rare people who Lotus could tolerate their presences.
"Everything seems to be fine," she whispered to his Mother as they walked to the far end of the bedroom, most probably thinking he couldn't hear them. "It could be trauma."
"Trauma?" his Mother asked.
"After your sister moved to the Night court, she was recently made. Locking herself in her room, hardly eating, barely sleeping. In her own way, she was trying to process what had happened." Madja explained. "Your son is showing similar symptoms as her. He is coping. After leaving the Spring court after so much time, moving somewhere strange, meeting new people who he now has to recognize as his family- it's a lot to drop on him."
His Mother's mate- Rhysand, Lotus assumed his name was, stepped closer to his Mother, wrapping a wing around her as she had a guilty look on her face.
"Is there anything we can do?" Rhysand asked, looking towards his direction.
Lotus paid him no mind, keeping his focus on his hands, on the necklace his Father had gifted him for his thirteenth birthday.
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.