At first, we thought you a star fallen out of the sky that was gleaming below our trees.
The magpie was the first to inspect you — she had always taken a liking to shiny things — and she called for us all just as quickly.
You were not a star, we all realised as I cautiously peeled open the cloth swaddling you with my claws, but you were beautiful nonetheless.
You were but a tiny little thing. Your skin was smooth like a white lily petal, the pink of tulips in spring breathes in your cheeks, the silver of the moon shimmering in your hair. You were placidly asleep, your eyes closed, but we would eventually find them to be the color of hydrangeas after the rain just as we expected.
When we saw you, we saw a dream. A different story in a different place, a girl with the gold of sunshine in her hair dancing with us the birds, the squirrels and the rabbits too. Perhaps we had met you before, perhaps we hadn't, but if we had, it must've been long long ago, so long that we should not remember. Still, we wondered if you were dreaming of a someone, if you were dreaming of us too.
The nightingales sang, the robins and bluebirds chorused and I hooted along. The rabbits and squirrels brought along flowers and thymes. These, our gifts, for you, tiny human. We didn't get to see with our own eyes her happily-ever-after last time, but this time we were determined to.
You were beloved by everyone here.
But we shouldn't have forgotten that this forest is no place for a human suckling.
This forest had been razed many a time centuries ago, the old trees had told us the story. It stood on the borders of fae and stood in man's way, it had been burnt when they burnt down their neighbours and had grown on their blood. These were lands where hatred had never ended — it still hadn't.
The whistling breezes gave us their warning as usual when those things rise from the soil. They always prowl these woods in eerie silence, clearly not alive but not quite "in peace". We knew not what they were, but we all run and hide, we smell bloodlust from miles away.
Tonight's creature shambled among our trees, it was a black figure like a shadow, dripping ink, painting a winding, directionless trail. We didn't dare to make a peep, they are always searching for something, and we weren't keen on finding out if that something was us.
But as it morphed into a form vaguely resembling what it must've had used to be, only more twisted, more beastly yet more empty now, we understood.
When a single purpose had been carved into one's entire being, one would remember even long, long after, and repeat it, and repeat it, and repeat it because they hadn't known any better.
It was searching for a human, and it found you.
Shambling no longer, it charged, grotesque teeth bared, arms drew back as if wielding a weapon, decades' worth of bloodlust oozing out of it as if it were against a whole army.
It was a strange feeling, being so afraid that we weren't afraid anymore. In a choir, in a cacophony, we squawked, squalled, screeched, defying the night's silence. The creature whirled around to locate us, hissing.
I stretched my wings, brandishing my claws and swooping down at it. It held its palm in front of me, and I was hurled into a nearby tree trunk, but the robins were the next to charge in.
You awoke to the noises, soon starting to wail. Were you frightened? Please don't be, we were doing all we could, not that it was enough. None of us was ever capable of standing among those who could protect you, but all of us loved you, and we would stay until someone who could came.
A pillar of green fire rained down from the sky, engulfing the creature and scorching it as if it still had flesh to be scorched; our prayers were answered.
In the company of a dozen bats, a man with black hair in magenta streaks landed deftly beside the flames. Removing his right glove, he slipped his hand into the fire in the manner one would if there was another hand to be held, the fire did not burn him.
Our forest rarely had visitors, but when this man comes he more or less comes to do and say the same thing. "This time around," he barely parted his lips when he spoke, his eyes half-lidded, as if gravity weighs heavier on him, "may you be freed from history's wrongs, may you find peace in the beyond."
The pillar burned out in a matter of seconds, only one little flame left in his hand. He pursed his lips in the way one would when tasting something repulsive, then sighed, blowing it out, returning the forest to the night's darkness.
His weary eyes shot open in surprise as your cries finally hit his ears. Despite scrambling clumsily to your side, he picked you up steadily, clearly adept. "There, there, what's the matter? Were you hurt? " cooing softly, he lightly tilted your head to check for injuries.
But then he saw it. Your ears. His bare right hand froze in mid-air, trembling, unable to touch you. He looked all around for someone who could've left a human baby in this forest, even though we all knew there was none.
His gaze returned to you, his eyes wavering, he now knew as well as any of us that if it weren't for him, this life would've been lost by now. If the thought of putting you back down had ever crossed his mind, now that thought was all gone. Still he was so afraid to bring you closer, to hold you tighter.
He winced when your flailing arms slammed against his right hand, and by instinct you grasped his finger. He hadn't wanted you touch him, his hand, the one that he himself knew had done dreadful things.
You hadn't known and you hadn't cared, all you knew was that you finally felt safe through gripping onto his finger, no doubt warm from the fire. Your cries began to subdue.
In the night's darkness, we saw you open your eyes, glistening like aurora lights. You stared at the man blankly, not wary, not scared, only with the same level of regard you would've given any of us.
In the night's silence, we heard the man's whimpering chuckle, a tear dripping onto your cheek. He squeezed your hand, his eyes were weary no more, with the rich colour of hollies in winter they glistened with yours.
He removed his other glove. He held you high above his head and twirled around, eliciting a giggle from you. Then he embraced you close, his chin grazing against the side of your head.
In a forest where he had touched nothing but embers of the past, he found you. A life he could hold. A future that doesn't repeat. In his smile we saw his decision, one purer than ours. It had nothing to do with previous tales, nothing to do with repentance or being forgiven, he simply wanted to cradle and safeguard such a precious tiny thing.
As we witnessed all of this, we were convinced that your happily-ever-after lies with him.
A blood-bathed land had cultivated our vast, lush green forest; who was to say he could not care for a human child with all the love his heart could give?
The End
A/N: I've wanted to write how Lilia found Silver for a long time, just didn't expect I would do it with this prompt and with this perspective (the narrator is an owl btw, in case you couldn't tell). I just hate myself for coming up with this on such short notice so I rushed it tho T^T