Outside of the castle walls, rain roared down from the heavens. Queen Erin sat beside the fireplace in the humble room she shared with her husband, carefully embroidering a tunic's hem for Jaron, her second son.
"Darling, if you want the cat to like you, you can't hit him with your sword," Erin chastised her 6-year-old son without looking up from her stitches.
Jaron, who'd been stalking one of the castle's cats with his wooden sword, froze in his tracks. However, the little boy was determined to terrorize the cat. The sword clattered to the carpet and the cat yowled as Jaron got his grubby hands on its legs.
"I caught the cat!" Jaron exclaimed as he dragged the poor animal into his arms. The cat harrumphed in frustration, and tried to wriggle out of Jaron's firm grip. "Mother! I caught him! Look! Look!"
"Patient kitty," Erin chuckled as Jaron half dragged the cat towards her. She scratched the angered cat's head, "Now let him go before he scratches you."
"But I-" Jaron's plea was interrupted by the cat's growls, and soon it was dropped to the ground. He lunged for his sword, stabbing at unseen foes. "I wanna go outside, I hate rain."
"Rain is good for the land, my little bird."
"It's not good for me!"
Erin smiled, and began to hum the lullaby she'd saved especially for Jaron. Music had been everything to Erin when she'd served as a barmaid. Songs and stories could shape souls. When she'd first gazed upon Jaron's face, she knew deep in her heart that he was a free spirit much like a sparrow, so different from his mellow elder brother.
"Someday, we will find the land of fairies, and we'll play, and the cat will be there," Jaron declared, sitting on the ground near the hearth.
Lightning illuminated the room, casting shadows throughout the room. The rain began to pound even harder than it had before, the scent of the washed earth outside mixing in with the slight pine-filled air. A small boy such as Jaron would fear that the window would break open and flood the room, and such fears began to take over his innocent mind.
Suddenly, thunder roared with the power to rumble the castle. Jaron yelped, dropped his sword, and scurried to hide behind Erin's skirt. He was certain that the castle was going to collapse all around him.
"Oh my Jaron, come here," Erin paused her humming to scoop Jaron onto her lap. He clung to her in fear.
Rocking her child, Erin began to sing Jaron's lullaby.
Oh hush thee, my dove
Hush, my little bird
Oh fold your wings and seek your nest
Fly to your rowan tree
My bird is home from hills and valleys
Now he's here with me
Once again, thunder clapped, causing Jaron to flinch. Erin smoothed down his unruly curls, still singing the lullaby.
As Jaron calmed, he too began to sing the lullaby.
Oh hush thee, my dove
Hush, my little bird
Oh fold your wings and seek your nest
Fly to your rowan tree
My bird is home from hills and valleys
Now you're here with me
"I'd never leave you, little bird," Erin declared, crooning over her son. "Never forget how much I love you."
"You tell me you love me every day. Are there days when you don't love me?"
"Never, not even on days when I become very very foul tempered."
"I love you mama," Jaron declared, curling up on his mother's lap.
Erin smiled, "I love you, my little bird."
Jaron's heart seized up in grief, he was glad he was alone for this. He couldn't bear the thought of anyone see him shed tears the way he knew he was going to. The royal crypt in Drylliad's cathedral was deserted, save for the stone coffins of Jaron's family.
The crypt was humble compared to the lavish mausoleums commissioned by the warrior Carthyan kings of old. Three stone tombs stood in the marble crypt, each one bore a carver of the corpse they hid from prying eyes. Jaron's palms grew sweaty the closer he got to the coffins.
Already tears pricked at his eyes. Angrily, he swiped them away. He was allowed to be bitter, his father had been the one to have forced this solemn family meeting. Eckbert had insisted that Jaron remain in hiding, and where had that gotten them? All that was left of Jaron's family were memories and corpses. Jaron stoically passed Eckbert's stone tomb without a tear.
"My brother," Jaron croaked out, unable to contain his emotion any longer as he stood by Darius's stone coffin. "You've left me too.. Too soon. Think of all the plans we had that we-"
Jaron stopped himself from speaking as his silent tears turned to quiet gasps. Darius had been his very best friend when they'd been children, and their bond certainly would have gone on to rival the friendship between all brothers in history. They'd dreamed of sailing across the seas and conquering lands, while also plotting to sneak the jar of pastries from the kitchen and into Darius's room.
No more would they smuggle their desserts into a dark room and tell ghost stories. Never again would Jaron and Darius find abandoned sticks to drop in the Roving River. Darius had left Jaron, just as Jaron had left him... But there would be no coming back from the dead for Darius.
A part of Jaron hated his brother for leaving him all alone.
"I just wanted the chance to say goodbye," he whimpered, using darius's tomb to steady himself as tears flowed down his face. "I wanted to tell you how much I loved you. How much I looked up to you. I thought you were so much more clever than I, you knew how to talk to somebody, and.. Saints above, I can't even speak to myself. I needed you here. I need you now, I need you to tell me what to do, how to become better! But you've gone away! You left me here!"
He didn't remember collapsing to the floor in his grief face to face with his mother's coffin.
The cries turned into sobs as he thought of his mother smoothing down his hair as thunder cracked all around him and while his mother sang. In the still crypt, the lullaby's words rang through Jaron's head as if Erin herself had begun to sing them.
Oh hush thee, my dove
Hush, my little bird
Oh fold your wings and seek your nest
Fly to your rowan tree
My bird is home from hills and valleys
Now he's here with me
"I sought my nest, mother," Jaron choked out. He rested his head against the edge of Erin's coffin. "I flew to my rowan tree. I came home to you from hills and valleys..."
The pain in his heart was so crippling, he felt as if he'd been dragged through a stone street. Jaron balled his hands into fists, "And you're not here."
As Jaron sobbed, he couldn't stop himself from angrily listing all of the things he'd never get to do with his beloved mother again. He'd never see her ever again. She'd never laugh nor sing, she'd never be back to comfort him. Erin had died thinking that she'd be able to see Jaron again in the afterlife...
... but he was still very much alive.
"I love you," his voice was no louder than a toad's croak. "I love you so much, my mother. I'd.. There's.. I.. I can't do this without you."
In his dark grief, a sudden peace filled his heart as if somebody had cupped it to shield it from the pain in Jaron's soul.
Oh hush thee, my dove
Hush, my little bird
Oh fold your wings and seek your nest
Fly to your rowan tree
My bird is home from hills and valleys
Now you're here with me
"I'd never leave you, little bird," Erin declared, crooning over her son. "Never forget how much I love you."
Though Jaron knew that he'd never see his mother alive again, there was one thing he was certain of.
He knew how much she'd loved him.
And nothing in the world could ever change that.