Disclaimer: Wraeththu and its world belong to Storm Constantine. I just borrow it and the characters. The song Lullabye (Goodnight, My Angel) is copirighted by Billy Joel.
Spoiler: for the second book.
Comments: I want to thank Addie for her help with this story. She helped me a lot. I’m still not so happy about it and my English in the story is not so good either. Maybe I will re-write it again someday when I can find the motivation to do it. I hope you still enjoy reading it. C&C are very welcome.
The little light, coming from the moon above, made his fingers look nearly translucent. He stopped counting the days, and hours a while ago. Now he just wished it would be finally over. He was tired of his thoughts – tired of waiting.
Was it so wrong to wish for a new start?
He couldn’t pretend to be what he wasn’t any longer. There was so much more outside the walls of his father’s tribe and he longed for it; so much that it hurt.
His father would never have understood it, in his heart was only the love for his obsession with power and darkness. He guessed he was only an experience. Something Ponclast had to show he could do and to see how things worked.
Closing his eyes Gahrazel tried to remember his hostling’s look but all he could recall was the sound of a soothing, warm voice along with a warm embrace.
What was the name of his hostling?
Only a fragment of a song lingered in his mind, giving him safety during lonely hours. A little treasure left over from a time where icy fingers of the silent poison, which his father was to him, hadn’t started to weave their fragile spider web to trap his sole possession, his soul
Goodnight, my angel
Time to close your eyes
And save this question for another day
I think I know what you’ve been asking me
I think you know what I’ve been trying to say
I promised I would never leave you
And you should always know
Wherever you may go
No matter where you are
I never will be far away
His hostling lived though this verse.
Smiling softly Gahrazel wondered idly when he had turned into such a romantic.
Would his life have taken a different route if his hostling was still an important part in his life? Like it were with Cobweb and Swift?
Swift was his friend…his only real friend. He loved him very much but Gahrazel also envied him. Swift had the childhood he wanted for himself.
Forever became for a short time his home. A home where he could hide behind anonymous masks of ignorance, forgetting reality always exists. But like it always was with reality, it wouldn’t let you forget it. Every time you threw it away from you it came back like a loyal boomerang you wished to get lost. And each return hurt a bit more than the last one.
It didn’t matter how hard he wished to belong to Swift’s little family, somehow he would remain an observer.
As ironic as it sounded, the only good thing his father had ever given him, had been to send him away. Every good thing had to end.
The development of the Varrs under his father’s leadership disgusted him. He didn’t know if the Gelaming would be any better, but they couldn’t be worse. A risk he dared to take. His small opportunity to find his freedom again…how could he let it go?
Maybe he shouldn’t have told Swift about his escape plans. Gahrazel frowned slightly. Lay there the error? Poor little Swift. He was so afraid and confused. He could understand him though. If he had what Swift had he would never waste a thought about leaving.
Have you betrayed me, Swift, my dear friend?
Was this the reason he never came to visit him in his prison, although he had asked him to come? He just wanted to see him again. To say goodbye to the person who had a reserved place in his heart. Even if it was a lie, Swift could have said that he would forgive him, and was sorry how this had ended. Gahrazel would believe every word. Deceiving oneself was not very hard especially when one chose to.
With his arms wrapped around his legs and his chin resting on his knees he tried to expel the loneliness, before it drove him into the open arms of madness.
You had grown wings, lovely tiny ones, only to have them torn to shreds at your first attempt to spread them.
Waiting alone for death.
Would be there anyone to mourn him?
Not his father. He would be his son’s executioner, wouldn’t he?
He just regretted that he took Purah down with him. Purah who was so eager to leave the Varrs and everything they stood for, behind.
He had never intended to hurt anyone, never intended…
His head shot up. He thought he heard someone singing softly disturbing the thick silence surrounding him in his dark cell.
Goodnight, my angel
Now it’s time to sleep.
And still so many things I want to say
Remember all the songs you sang for me
When we went sailing on an emerald bay
And like a boat out on the ocean
I’m rocking you to sleep
The water’s dark
And deep inside this ancient heart
You’ll always be a part of me
Listening, he looked through the barred window, bloodstained by his bleeding skin, the moon seeming to glow red – beautiful…sad. He watched it’s sparkling surface until he heard the rustling of keys.
Let the curtains fall. The show was over.