It was early in the morning, when the sun was barely rising above the fog in the village.

Jarek stood in front of the door to the cage room, his eyes filled with complicated emotions. What should he say? What should he do?

The boy had killed his own mother and devoured her in his sleep, how was he going to deal with such a thing?

Stroking back his hair in frustration, first, it was his brother, now it was his sister-in-law. Too much had happened in such a short amount of time, how was he going to help the boy.

Jarek stood in place for a solid few minutes.

Unable to think of what to say, he shook his head and knocked on the door before walking in. seeing the bloodied walls and grounds of the cage, he could only pinched the bridge of his nose, he knew this would happen.

And the boy?

He was sitting quietly in the corner, his entire body slumped to the ground.

“Basira?” the boy was non-responsive, simply looking back at him, his eyes devoid of any emotions.

“Aren’t you going to say hi to your elder?”

“…good morning uncle.” At least he could speak, that’s good enough for Jarek. He sat on the ground in front of the cage, noticing that the chains had been yanked from the ground.

“Was it too tight?” he asked with concern.

“No.” His head dropped once more, causing Jarek much heartache.

“Basira… listen… what happened wasn’t…” his word was caught in his tongue, unable to utter the next word. Saying any more would not do anything, rather it would make things worse.

The two sat in silence as the the sounds of the chickens called out in the early morning.

“The story is… A silver-fanged snake managed to sneak past Sigrid and come inside your home… I managed to kill it, but not before your mother was…” he went silent at the last words, the boy unmoving and quiet.

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“Thank you… uncle” the boy softly, he looked miserable, a child barely 13 years of age.

“Alright…” Jarek got up and threw the keys to the cage before leaving the room, stopping at its cusp. “The grand elder, he too had a sister that he cared for during his youth, talk to him.”

Basira’s head jolted upward in shock, before dropping down low again as Jarek left.

Jarek waited patiently outside of the house that they were in, and shortly after he could see the boy opening the door from within. Still looked particularly miserable, but at least, he was moving.

“Let’s go, your mother’s funeral is starting.”

At the town center, Basira could see the other villagers. Their eyes filled with grief, pity, sadness, and many other emotions. Their gaze looked as if knives stabbing into him.

It was him, he had killed her, but they didn’t know. Some would say words of condolences, some would hug him in tears. Basira could only stay silent.

The grand elder stood at the center of the town, before him was an open coffin on a small pile of wood. Her mother was there, unmoving, dead.

One of the villagers gave Basira a torch, startling him. It was the duty of the family head to give the fire to their dead family members, to let them rest in the cleansing fire. So they will not come back as an apparition. Holding onto the torch, he stumbled his way toward the coffin.

She looked peaceful, dressed in her favorite gown, her face had been cleaned and makeup applied to. He turned to see his uncle and the grand elder, nodding at him to do his duty.

With a flick he threw the torch at the pile of wood beneath the coffin, and it lit ablaze a violent flame. Basira gaze at the burning coffin, its crackling flame consuming her, muttering quietly to himself.

“I’ll bring you back, I promise.”

A violent wind struck out from within the forest, interrupting the solemn atmosphere. The ground shook and quaked, causing the wood pile holding the coffin to collapse. Everyone is in a panic, trying to hold steady, Jarek busily ushering everyone to safety.

Basira stood before the flames, his eyes, once brown, is now an amber glow.