You close your eyes at the sound of a small voice, hurt and confused like an abandoned kitten, heartbroken and alone. You don't want to turn around, because while it's impossible to hate a child, deep down, you do anyway.
"Brother?" his voice trembles.
Behind your closed eyes, you suddenly, completely, viciously hate him for being so innocent, so vulnerable, so impossible to hurt. You know all too well that innocence is equally blessing and curse.
You are almost certain he had no one else to turn to, no one else to trust with that innocence reflected in his unguarded eyes. The rest would enjoy crushing him. In one of your worst moments, you wonder if you should too.
"What is it, Iskah?" you ask calmly, and though poisoned flames lick at your stony heart you expertly manage not to betray even a hint of the irrational fury.
"I... I had a bad dream," he mumbles. Even without looking, you know he's crumbling at your feet, desperate for your approval.
But you don't answer. You cruelly let him anticipate your words, let him hover and feel a taste of what it's like not to be wanted.
But when you hear the sound of silent tears, you can't hold out. Your eyes open, and the vision of a child in tears swims into view. And your heart breaks again. You know you can't remain turned away; you know he's too young, much too young...
"Come here," you say, still inhumanly calm. He lunges into your arms and hugs the fabric of your clothes tight to him, as though he can't ever have enough of the safety and comfort they provide.
You look down at him and stroke his hair affectionately. He is still, despite everything, innocent. Your hands run down the small back and brush against the wings, and for a moment, that murderous hate and anger and despair threaten to swallow you, and your hands clench.
But then he smiles unknowingly, and the desires of wanton destruction flee, siphoned away by the trust the child exudes.
It is not his fault, you know. In a world where children suffer the most, you know you will never blame him, never hate him. And even from the blackest depths of your heart, love and pride of your brother emerges and tears spring to your eyes. But you hide them easily and comfort him, driving away the horrors of the nightmares that ensnared his dreams and turned them into something even this world could not imagine.
You're the only one. You are all he has. And, funnily enough, he is all you have, too.