Shadows Between Stars

The Magician

'Wake up, get out of bed, you lazy kid,'

There it was again...The voice that would lull the boy from his slumber once again.

No matter how often he had heard this same voice, waking him daily, only a few minutes before his mother would walk in with a bright smile, ready to greet her son.

It didn't stop him from sitting up in his bed that he outgrew months ago, shaking his head to rid himself of the voice.

As if it would end up doing something, to begin with...he doubted that, but it was enough to silence it for a few moments, an hour at best...

Hopefully, it would be enough to last him throughout today and all the days that followed suit. He stared blankly at the bubbled roof above his head, listening to the faint, distorted whispers filling his ears.

He waited to hear the light steps of his mother, followed by her gentle hums as she went to wake him, only to find him wide awake, staring at his roof in silence.

"Already awake, baby?" Marie Arcana was so sweet. It always amazed her son to see how happy she was daily. Without words, her son sat in bed, throwing his legs over the edge.

Seeing the white fabric of the clothing his father forced him to sleep in made his eye twitch slightly.

"Well, today is a big day, baby. Make sure you're dressed nicely, then come downstairs. We'll have a nice breakfast, then I'll take you out for a little for your birthday, okay?" Marie hummed, grabbing clothing from the nearby closet.

Her son merely stared ahead of him, unblinking as he watched the sunbeams dance along the mirror across the room from his bed.

With a heavy sigh, Marie placed the pre-made outfit neatly on her son's bed, leaning down to kiss gently on the top of his head.

"Everything is going to be okay, honey; I love you," She hummed before leaving the room. No matter how many times he was alone in this very same room, every time, he still felt like he was trapped in a cage.

"More of these church-ridden clothes?" There it was again...The reverberated voice that sounded like it was coming from behind him.

"They're what, sir, wants me to wear." The boy was so quiet with his words, fearing that his father would barge in at any moment.

"And you're just going to do everything he asks? I mean, shouldn't you try revolting a little bit?" The voice asked...It felt so heavy on his shoulders, as if it was a person leaning against him.

"I'm his son...I can't disobey him or my mother, no matter what...that's just disgraceful," The boy muttered to the voice as he began to get dressed.

Oddly enough, the voice ceased to answer him after that until his father barged in, allowing the door to hit the wall behind it. The boy silently grew relieved that he put a makeshift cushion against the wall to avoid a hole in the wall.

"Are you dressed?" His father asked, looking his son up and down. The boy looked down at his attire for a moment, "You look like a slob. Fix your hair, wash your hands...then you can come to eat."

The boy nodded, watching as his father shut the door before he went to the mirror. He paused, admiring the golden trim that gave it an elegant look.

He remembered asking his mother about its origins earlier in the year, to which she claimed it was from somewhere in Italy.

Though he wasn't sure if that was true, to begin with, he accepted the answer he was given...It would be rude to question either of his parents, after all.