He spent his night in the very dimmed room, sitting underneath the portrait as he wrapped a small embroidered red, ivory scarf around his grown body to keep him to a minimal warmth against the chilly night. It was a gift on his fifth birthday that was given by his beloved mother. The young prince pulled his knees against his muscular body, burying his face against them as he had another suddenly memory of his past, wondering why these forgotten memories slowly rushed into his head, he soon fell into slumber.
Night turned to dusk and soon, twilight emerged. Every warm exhalation turned into cold breaths. The season was lenient this time of year. Snowflakes lightly descended from the cold atmosphere. The icy, feathery corals are so fragile that they melt upon meeting the touch of a warm-living being. Anastasius had an odd hour to be awake during twilight and this wasn’t only applied to him but the head of Archanbeau as well. They both had a habit of watching the twilight. During this hour, the son would find his father wandering the barren lawn and stood still in a certain spot. His father's helpless, calm demeanour at this moment made him look human for once.
Observing his immovable father, who frequently carried a malicious look, now possessed a miserable, painful gaze. Anastasius felt certain from this. A vile beast in a human form could never escape and lose his human heart. What made his father swing his sword, coating the metal blade with fresh blood daily-- still remained unknown to Anastasius. Perhaps his father was yearning for the same warmth of his late mother, the same way he does.
Comments (0)
See all