Novacaine

Caedes stepped out into the cold night, the blanket-wrapped pups nestled close to his chest. Each tiny whimper echoed in his ears, mingling with the ghostly memories of Aurelia's voice and Sephiran's madness. The raven had flown swiftly, and it wasn't long before Aresenn appeared, his eyes filled with questioning. Caedes waited silently as the brute took note of the bundle in his jaws, the soft cries coming from within; and then as he went into the den and came out moments later.

“She is dead. They need to nurse.” Caedes said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. He gently transferred the blanket-wrapped pups into Aresenn's grasp, his movements mechanical, as though his mind had detached from the reality of the situation.

Aresenn nodded, a grim understanding passing between them. Caedes barely acknowledged him, his gaze fixed on the ground as the other brute padded off.

[Timeskip for close your eyes. try to breathe.]

Returning to his den... The once serene space now felt like a tomb, the blood and remnants of the violent birth and subsequent brutality staining every surface. The metallic scent of blood hung heavily in the air, mingling with the faint, fading scent of Aurelia. He stood in the center of the den, staring at the bloodied floor, bits of brain matter and skull fragments where she’d been killed.

‘Caed-..’ ‘Dad, where are we going?’ ‘Save… them.’ ‘Dad?’ ‘Thank… you.’ ‘Your scaring me. Stop it. Stop it now! Please! Dad!’

The memories surged, unbidden and relentless. He saw Aurelia's agonized face, heard her pained cries, and felt the helplessness of watching her die that he had not let himself feel fully in the moments prior. Overlaid with these memories were echoes of his own childhood, the terror of his father's attack, the pain, the betrayal.

‘You did this.’ ‘You are a monster.’ ‘Fucking bitch.’ ‘Why do you look like him?!’

Caedes felt a scream building within him, a primal, anguished sound that clawed its way up from the depths of his soul. He let it out, a raw, guttural cry that reverberated off the walls of the den. His jaw clenched, his muscles rippled down his limbs, and he began to destroy everything in sight. Shelves were ripped from the walls, vials and herbs shattered and scattered, his healer’s tools thrown with reckless abandon. He as blind with rage. Blind with the memories overlapping and burned into his mind.

He relived the horror of his childhood, the fear and pain as his crazed father attacked him, each blow feeling as real now as it did then. The scars burned like the day they were carved into his flesh. He saw Astrid’s face, her pleas for him to be strong, to survive the pain and all the gaping wounds that littered his young body. His father's frantic visage haunted him, the madness in his eyes mirroring the insanity he had just witnessed in Sephiran.

Stop. Just stop. Please! No more!

Caedes was lost in the storm of his emotions, his actions driven by a need to expel the pain, to purge the memories that were suffocating him. To fight back where he’d failed to in both memories. He tore through his den, each act of destruction a desperate attempt to reclaim some semblance of control, to push back the overwhelming tide of grief and trauma.

Finally, exhausted and broken, he collapsed to the ground amidst the wreckage. His body trembled, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The silence that followed was heavy, oppressive, broken only by his occasional sobs. Caedes curled into himself, his mind a sea of sorrow and regret.

He lay there for what felt like an eternity, consumed by the weight of his memories and the horror of what had transpired. Slowly, he allowed himself to feel the pain, to mourn Aurelia, to grieve for the life he had lost so long ago.

Numb, empty silence.

It was hours. Days? He didn’t know.

Slowly, he forced himself to sit up, his body aching from the strain of his outburst. His gaze drifted to the remnants of the den, to his grief and anger. But there was one final task he had to complete.

With heavy limbs, he gathered up the stillborn pups, their small, lifeless bodies a tragic contrast to the living pups he had just entrusted to Aresenn. He cradled them gently, his touch tender despite the horror that had transpired. They deserved dignity, even in death. Despite the fact that one was headless.

Caedes made his way to a small clearing outside the den. He carefully prepared a pyre, arranging the wood with precision born from years of practice. He placed the stillborns on top, their tiny forms almost lost amidst the branches. He lit the fire, watching as the flames took hold and began to consume the wood, the heat intense against his skin and fur.

The fire crackled and roared, the scent of burning wood and flesh filling the air. Caedes stood vigil, his eyes fixed on the flames as they rose higher, transforming the stillborns into ash. He whispered a quiet prayer, a plea for peace and solace for their souls, wherever they might go. He was not religious, so he prayed to whatever god might listen. The flames danced and flickered, incinerating the lives that had ended before they even had a chance to begin.

When the fire finally died down, leaving only smoldering embers and a thin trail of smoke, Caedes turned away. The task was done. He felt a small measure of peace settle within him, a fragile consolation to his wounded soul. But the weight of the night's events still pressed heavily on him.

What was Sephiran doing to Aurelia’s body, that he could not burn along with her dead children?

He knew where he needed to go next. The thought of Mariah, her presence and strength. He needed her now, more than ever.

Caedes walked through the forest, the scent of death, birth, and ash clinging to him like a shroud. He moved with a determined pace, his steps steady despite the turmoil within him. As the hours passed, the dense forest began to give way to the familiar path leading to Elysium.

When he finally reached the outskirts of the sanctuary, the sky was beginning to lighten with the first hints of dawn. Exhaustion weighed heavily on him, but he pressed on, his heart set on finding Mariah. Her presence was a haven he desperately needed to reach.

He entered Elysium, his eyes scanning the quiet, peaceful surroundings. The contrast to his own chaotic mind was stark. Day and night. But he still did not know how many days it had been. It was morning now, but any number of days could have passed since that night. He moved through Elysium, the familiar paths leading him towards Mariah's abode. His steps slowed as he approached the entrance of her den, a mix of anticipation and dread filling him. Above all. Numbness again. He stood there, not entering, trying to understand why he would come here just for her to see him like this. Maybe he would be lucky, and she was still at the Hallow festival, so he could nestle up in her bedding and compose himself before she came back. But her scent was fresh, so that was a fleeting thought.

She did not even know of his past, how would she understand this?