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A Little Secret


The air was silent aside from the whisper of a breath in the dark. It was a sound that was nearly imperceptible as it carried through the room and caused the stars hanging from a golden mobile to shimmer.

I missed you, little one.

The whisper came again, and this time it was greeted by a quiet gurgle as a small bundle moved in the bottom of the crib. A tiny hand reached up toward the mobile, its fingers grasping for something in the empty air.

There was a small laugh, like the echo of a bird song, and something unseen brushed against the golden stars, causing them to slowly twirl over the young babe’s crib. The infant happily gurgled again, his other hand joining the first in his reach.

His small fingers closed around something unseen.

Only a few months, and already growing so fast.

The short, dark bangs that covered the infant’s forehead were brushed aside, and for a moment, as if made of white smoke, a slender hand faded into view, its fingertips brushing against the baby’s face before the form dispersed like mist, a soundless breeze whisking it upward so that a flash of smiling lips was seen before fading into nothingness.

Auguste squealed happily, and there was a hushed “shhhhh” sound as his hair moved again.

You mustn't wake them, little one.

There was a movement in the air, and for a moment the mist-like form of a woman materialized. Smokey, feathered wings--mostly translucent--were folded against her back, and her hair streamed around her shoulders as if suspended in water. She surveyed the open doorway as if ensuring no one was going to appear within it, then turned back to her son as her form dispersed once again.

I am going to see your father soon. ‘Twould be best no one knows until I do. ‘Twill be our little secret.

August cooed quietly in response, and Seirye once more leaned over her son’s crib. She began to hum softly, a haunting melody carrying almost imperceptibly in the dark air.

Our family has grown quite a bit, after all.

Auguste yawned, his celestial eyes--almost identical to his father’s--drooping as he nuzzled into his banket. Within a few minutes, he had drifted back to sleep to the soft hymn of his mother’s lullaby.

Seirye smiled gently, her translucent figure fading into view again as she pressed her lips against the child’s forehead and dispersed into nothingness again.

I love you, little one.

For a moment or two, her voice hung in the stillness of the air, before it too faded away, leaving nothing but the child sleeping contentedly to the remnants of the lullaby.

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