Lament for My First Life

A Certain Man Named Zephyros

The library smelled faintly of tea and old parchment, the soft scratching of pencils and Xylenne's voice filling the air.

"Now, if you take this equation and..." she began gently, explaining with the patience of someone far older than her years.

Eryndor leaned over his notebook, following every word. Sylvareaen, however, had drifted into his usual daze, his chin resting on his hands as he watched Xylenne speak, the sunlight through the window glinting against her pale hair.

Then...

Creeeak.

The heavy oak door of the library opened slowly, the hinges crying out against the silence.

Xylenne froze.

Her eyes widened the moment she saw who it was. "...Oh, Xylenne." Zephyros stood there, his hair as messy as ever, a few ink stains marking the cuffs of his shirt. His expression softened the moment their eyes met. "I didn't know you were in here. I'll... leave."

"Z–Zephyros!" Xylenne gasped, her voice trembling. Without a second thought, she jumped out of her chair and ran across the room.

Before he could turn away, she grabbed the corner of his coat tightly.

"I haven't seen you in so long," she said, looking up at him, her small hands trembling as she held onto him. "Where have you been?" Her voice cracked, and her deep blue eyes brimmed with tears. Zephyros looked down at her, his throat tight. "I—I've been busy," he said quietly. "I must go now."

But Xylenne threw her little arms around him and hugged him tightly, refusing to let go. "Why? Are you avoiding me?"

His hands hovered in the air before he gently rested one on her shoulder. "Because I have work to do," he said softly.

"I can do the work for you! You know I can!" she said desperately, looking up at him with tearful determination.

From behind them, Eryndor and Sylvareaen sat frozen at the table, unsure what to do. They exchanged a glance but said nothing, the air felt too heavy to interrupt.

"It's best that I go," Zephyros said finally, stepping back. "I'm sorry, Xylenne. I didn't know you were in here."

"Why are you leaving me?" Xylenne cried suddenly. Zephyros froze mid-step. And for just a moment, he didn't hear Xylenne's voice.

He heard hers.

"Why are you leaving me, Daddy?" The same small, trembling voice of his late daughter echoed in his mind. His chest constricted painfully. Slowly, he knelt down and pulled Xylenne into his arms.

"I'm not leaving you," he said softly, his voice breaking. "I told you... I'll visit you when you get adopted."

"But Lady Varra could still win the custody battle!" Xylenne sobbed against his shoulder. "My happiness isn't set in stone!"

Zephyros's arms stiffened. Her words, so adult-like, so aware, they hurt more than they should have coming from a child's mouth.

"She seems so mature," Sylvareaen thought quietly, watching her from the table. "But... she cries a lot." He didn't understand the ache in his chest as he watched her.

"You don't know your future yet, Xylenne," Zephyros said gently.

"I know," she said through tears, "and that's what makes it horrible! My life is hanging by a thread! Why can't you adopt me? Why can't you? I looked for you at the garden party, but you never came for me!"

Zephyros's face fell. "I'm not a good candidate," he whispered. "I wouldn't be a good father. I'm sorry."

"You keep saying that!" Xylenne screamed, stepping back. "But when have you ever been a bad father? You have no reason to say that!" Her voice cracked as her tears spilled harder. "LESSON'S OVER!" she shouted before storming out of the library, her small footsteps echoing down the hall until the door slammed behind her.

Zephyros stood in silence, the sound still ringing in his ears. He ran a shaky hand through his hair and sighed deeply before burying his face in his palms. Only then did he remember he wasn't alone. Two very small, very quiet boys were still sitting at the table.

He lowered his hands and looked at them, startled. "I... I'm sorry, you two. Xylenne's having another one of her tantrums." He sighed again. "I guess I'll take you both home."

Sylvareaen frowned, crossing his arms. "No, she's not," he said firmly. "A monster is trying to adopt her. I'd be ten times worse if I were her." He raised all ten fingers for emphasis. Zephyros stared at him for a second, then actually laughed softly, shaking his head. "So you think that too..." he muttered under his breath, almost relieved someone understood.

Then a sound startled him, Eryndor was crying.

"W–wait, what's wrong?" Zephyros asked, crouching down beside him. Eryndor sniffled, rubbing his eyes. "Xylenne crying makes me cry too! I don't like seeing her cry... she's my second teacher!" he said between sobs. Zephyros blinked. "She's teaching you both?"

He turned and looked down at their work spread across the table. His eyes widened, the papers were filled with equations, theory notes, and symbols far beyond anything they should be learning. "This isn't what you're supposed to be studying!" Zephyros exclaimed. "Well, she reviewed our lesson," Sylvareaen said casually, "then started teaching us this stuff."

Zephyros rubbed his temple. "This is too advanced for you both..." He turned back to Eryndor, sighing. "And no more crying, little boy. Xylenne isn't crying anymore. She's probably outside kicking rocks in the garden by now." Eryndor hiccupped, trying to stop his tears.

Sylvareaen leaned back in his chair, frowning as he watched Zephyros calm the other boy. He's such a baby, he thought irritably, but... that messy man seems important to her. He glanced down at his hands, gripping the edge of the table. If he's so important to her... then will she not be happy if she's with my family?

He didn't know why that thought hurt. But it did. And as Zephyros ushered the boys out, Sylvareaen's red eyes darkened with a quiet, childish worry he didn't yet have words for.