The living room had become one man’s sanctuary. Things hadn’t been the same since he had lost his son, the fall of Silvermoon, and all the other events the world had to endure, and for Sarnathan Vin’derarr, life was about sitting on his cushioned seat and read a book or the local paper. On occasion, he would glance up at the mantle where the portraits of his two children were located. Silently, he mourned the loss of his youngest, but he was too proud to admit this to anyone, even his wife. How he wished he could go back to the day when his son told him about his lover. He wished he could have reacted differently. He wished he could have said anything other than telling him to leave and never return. He thought it was temporary, that his son would return and they would figure out what to do, but he never returned, at least not the same.
Three days after his son, Melaeth, admitted that he was in love with his best friend Jenris, Sarnathan was sitting in his seat, with his head in his hands, and trying to accept the fact that his son was in love with a man. His wife had been crying all the time Melaeth was gone and his daughter had been comforting her mother all this time. Sarnathan was unsure of what his next step was since his son never came back, even after a small search party was sent out. A few days later, the family received the news that their son was in the hospital and that he was transfered to an asylum. Sarnathan was in shock and he ran out to find his son.
The family ran to the asylum and found Melaeth screaming in a padded room, grasping his arms as he shouted in pain. “What’s wrong with my son!” Galleria, his wife, shouted. Sarnathan hugged his wife and stared at the small window where they could see their son.
“Ma’am, we are unable to figure out what is wrong with your son. Aside from the broken bones and other injuries we were able to repair with our healers, there is something affecting his nervous system. We tried to help him, but it’s as if his nerves are mutating. We are seeking outside help. Perhaps someone who has done research on trolls and what they do.”
“Trolls? Why trolls?” Sarnathan asked.
“Sir, your son was taken by trolls outside in the forest. He says his friend was killed and they had been injecting him with something which we can only assume is the culprit for his infliction.”
“Trolls?” he whispered as his wife sobbed uncontrollably. It was at that moment when Sarnathan’s eyes met his son’s eyes. Melaeth ran toward the door and screamed at his father.
“You did this to me! You made them take us! You fucker! This is your fault! Jenris is dead because of you! BECAUSE OF YOU!” Sarnathan stared at his son’s enraged face. He looked like he was laughing, hurting, furious. Sarnathan’s heart was crushed. His youngest child was as rabid as a caged animal and he wanted him out.
“I recommend he stay here. We can watch him, take care of him, and he won’t be a hazard to your family,” the medic said.
“He’s not a hazard! He’s my son!” Galleria shouted.
“We would rather take him home,” Sarnathan tried to say calmly as he saw his son clawing at his arms and body.
“With all due respect, if he harms you, we will not be held responsible. We don’t know what’s going with his body and he could hurt you. After he hurts you, the rest of the city could be next.”
Sarnathan turned to his wife and said, “It’s best to leave him here. If that is what the medic recommends, then that’s what we must do.”
The woman wailed and Sarnathan turned back to look at his son once more. Melaeth noticed them walking away and he banged on the door, “You’re an asshole! I’m your fucking son! You can’t leave me here, you fucking coward!” he shouted, but Sarnathan sighed and walked away, trying his hardest to hide the tears in his eyes.
The guilt of leaving his son behind still ate at him to this day. He felt as he had abandoned his child and when the asylum burned down and his son wasn’t recovered, he felt that he had lost the opportunity to apologize for his wrongdoings. Sarnathan stared at the portrait of his two remaining children. He silently wished for the third portrait up on the mantle, but his son’s absence hurt the family so much that his existence was barely acknowledged.
And Sarnathan missed his child very much.
@turning-through-the-never @kharrisdawndancer
