Astrael's eyes flew open, only to see an endless darkness.
"Where am I?" Panic-stricken, Astrael says. Then, a wavering light bloomed in the distance, which swallowed him.
As his vision adjusted, the darkness changed into the scene that seemed to be straight out of a horror film.
He saw the world shrouded in crimson darkness. Not his room.
He stood in warm, sticky, viscous mud that sucked greedily at his small leg, releasing a nauseating stench of decay and spoiled earth.
"What... what is this place?" The question came out of him, desperate, but it only echoes in this endless world of slaughter.
Feeling something on his leg, he recoiled, turned his head down, and saw: staring at him, Broken doll faces, wide-eyed, frozen in screams.
Which looked like a desecrated corpse.
Beside them, twisted branches wreathed unnaturally as if it alive, wearing black oil skin, which absorbs all the weak light, giving an eerie feeling.
Things that glowed gold like Mama's necklace but hissed where they touched the red-stained ground.
He forced his gaze upwards. It wasn't the sky, it was a vast, throbbing crimson membrane. No stars. No moon.
Just a pulsing, sick-red ceiling that made his ears hum and his teeth ache.
In his fist, a heavy, cold thing. Not his childhood rattle. The object was a Jagged, irregular tooth-like thing that bit his palm.
Red lines glowed on its edge like dying coals.
Jagged teeth bit his palm. Red lines glowed on its edge like dying coals.
Silence crushed him.
A thick, wet, quiet broken only by…
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
From the jumbled piles of broken toys and scary shadows rising all around, threatening to engulf him.
An emptiness in his heart.
His chest felt hollowed out.
Hollow like the bird nest Luna brought inside.
Yet, deep within that terrifying hollowness, something else stirred – a single, burning coal of defiance. Anger. Primal fear
It fizzed up his arm. The red lines on the cold thing blazed hot.
Desperation seized him. He threw his head back, lungs filling, throat straining to unleash a scream for his mother, for safety, for light. But the sound died before it could form. Only a rasp came out.
"...ghhaaa…!"
The sound vanished instantly, swallowed by the red sky.
. . .
Astrael jolted upright in his bed.
Cold sweat flowed from his forehead, soaking him.
He gasped while inhaling the cool air present
"Huh…huh…It was a bad dream," Astrael said, hand trembling.
"Where... where am I this time?" he breathed, while looking around the room he was currently.
CREAK.
A soft creak shattered the fragile quietness. The door swung open, revealing Elara, his nanny.
Her face, usually composed, was etched with deep concern. She carried a small wooden bowl filled with water, a cloth over her arm. Seeing him awake, her eyes widened.
"Young lord! You're awake!" Relief filled her voice, warm and genuine. She set the bowl down hastily on the bedside table
"Just a moment!" Without another word, she spun and fled the room, her footsteps echoing urgently down the hallway.
Astrael blinked, still disoriented, the remnants of his nightmare still bugging.
"Ehh..?" he managed, confusion knitting his brow.
He didn't have long to ponder. Within seconds, the sound of running feet returned, multiplied.
The door burst open again, and his mother, Lady Laira, surged into the room. Her eyes were swollen and red-rimmed, her usually combed hair dishevelled. She looked as if she hadn't slept in days.
In an instant, she was at his bedside, gathering him into a tight embrace that drove the breath from his lungs.
"Mothe—" he nearly choked, buried in her soft breast, smelling her familiar scent of lavender.
"Oh, my boy! My precious child!" Her voice was thick with tears. "What happened to you? You know how worried sick I was? You were asleep for 2 days. We thought... we thought..." She couldn't finish, her questions tumbling out in a frantic, tearful barrage as she held him impossibly tight, as if afraid he might vanish.
From the doorway, his father, Baron Kaelen, entered. His face, usually stern with responsibility, was pale, etched with profound worry.
Seeing Astrael conscious and held by Laira, a visible wave of relief washed over him. His broad shoulders sagged slightly.
"Laira," he said, his voice softer than usual, "Laira, ease up, love. Let the boy breathe first. He can't tell us anything if he's suffocating."
He stepped closer, placing a steadying hand on his wife's shoulder.
Laira seemed to realize the force of her grip. She loosened her arms slightly, pulling back just enough to look at Astrael's face, her hands still clutching his shoulders.
Her gaze was intense, like a hawk, scanning every inch of him, refusing to let him out of her sight for even a second.
The moment her embrace relaxed, a small, frantic whirlwind shot past Kaelen's legs and launched itself onto the bed.
"Wha-!" Astrael gasped again as small arms wrapped fiercely around his neck.
Who can be except his big sister Luna.
"Brother! Brother!" Luna, his older sister, cried, her voice muffled against his shoulder. Her eyes were wide with fear.
"You wouldn't wake up! You were sleeping forever! Luna was so scared! What happened? Are you hurt?" Her questions came in rapid, her embrace mimicking their mother's earlier intensity, making him cough.
"Luna," Kaelen said, his tone a mixture of exasperation and deep affection. "Just now, Astrael woke up. Give him some room, child. Let him breathe properly." He gently tokk her arms away.
Luna reluctantly released him but immediately scrambled to sit right beside him on the bed.
She grabbed his hand, holding it tightly in both of hers, her wide eyes fixed on his face. She wouldn't budge an inch.
Astrael looked around his family. Luna, his worried sister clinging to him like a koala.
His mother, tears still on her cheeks, her expression a mixture of overwhelming relief and lingering terror. His father, standing tall beside the bed, the worry lines on his face easing but not vanishing.
Elara hovered near the door, her hands clasped together, her face finally relaxing into profound relief as she watched the scene.
A wave of warmth, fierce and unexpected, washed over him, momentarily banishing the chill of the nightmare. 'Someone who worries... someone who loves me... '
The thought was a stark, beautiful contrast to the cold isolation of his previous life on Earth. This feeling, this belonging, was precious.
Suddenly, a cough sound came from the doorway.
An elderly man stood there, his posture up straight.
His face was a map of wrinkles, framed by thinning white hair, but his eyes were a sharp, intelligent emerald green, filled with calm and compassion. He wore simple, white robes, and in his left hand, he carried a worn leather satchel.
"Lord Baron," Doctor Harman greeted Kaelen with a respectful nod.
"Doctor Harman!" Kaelen responded, relief evident. "Thank you for coming back so promptly. My son is awake. Can you...?" He gestured towards Astrael.
Doctor Harman's eyes landed on Astrael. Smiling, he approached.
Doctor Harman's keen gaze shifted to the boy on the bed.
A small, reassuring smile touched his lips as he approached. "Of course, my lord. Young lordr Astrael, if you would permit me?"
He set his satchel down beside the bed and opened it , revealing vials, instruments, and bundles of herbs and medicine within.
Astrael nodded, still feeling raw and slightly overwhelmed by the family's attention.
The doctor's hands were professional as he checked Astrael's pulse at the wrist and throat, peered into his eyes with a small lens, and listened carefully to his chest and back with a stethoscope.
The room remained quiet, the only sounds Astrael shaky breathing.
Lady Laira hovered nearby, wringing her hands, while Kaelen watched intently, his arms crossed. Luna remained glued to Astrael's side, her small hand still clutching his.
After several tense minutes, Doctor Harman straightened up. He placed his instruments back into the satchel.
"There is nothing to worry about, my lord, my lady," he announced. "He has endured a profound shock to his body", manifesting as a deep, unnatural sleep. Some lingering exhaustion is evident. However, his pulse is steadying, his breath sounds clear."
He turned to address the room. "With a bit of rest, he will be ok." He carefully rook out knobbly roots which resembled a miniature, dried ginseng root.
He handed it to Elara, who had stepped forward. "Steep this thoroughly in a full bowl of warm water, not boiling, for ten minutes. Strain it and have him drink slowly. It will help restore his vitality and calm his nerves. Do this twice today, and once tomorrow morning."
He then turned back to Kaelen, his emerald eyes meeting the Baron's with a look that held a flicker of something unspoken. Kaelen gave a nod to the doctor. He understood.
"My lord," Doctor Harman said, closing his satchel with a soft click, "I must take my leave now. I have another patient requiring attention . Send for me immediately if there is any change, or if the exhaustion persists."
"Of course, Doctor Harman. Thank you," Kaelen said.
He turned to his son, his expression softening, "Rest now. Elara will be outside if you need anything." He placed a large, reassuring hand briefly on Astrael head before escorting the doctor from the room.
"Rest, my love," Laira stated to Astrael, leaning down to press a kiss on his forehead.
"Luna," she said, her voice regaining some of its usual firmness, "come now. Your brother needs to rest. You can see him later."
Luna pouted dramatically but finally slid off the bed. "Get well super fast, brother!" she said, giving his hand one last squeeze before reluctantly trailing after her mother.
The door clicked shut. Silence descended once more upon the room.
Now, Astrael was alone.
Yet, his mind was in chaos.