The Lost Bellator

One

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There was a certain stillness to the air as Arlaige woke up in the morning. His body ached from the night before, and his eyes burned from lack of sleep. He wished that he could stay in his cot for a while longer, but there was a songbird at his window that had pursued him for a while now. He assumed it was a sign,or at least that's what the village was saying.

Word had spread fast that a songbird had perched on his windowsill every night to sing him the same song. He didn't mind the talk, or the stares that followed him as he walked the square. He had noticed the signs of his destiny for a while now, but he had looked the other way. Arlaige had more on his mind than talk of the town and fairy-tales.

He stares at the cracks of the roof, letting the song drift past his ears. It truly was a beautiful sound, but it was the only sound he heard in his mornings and his evenings. He had grown quite tired of it. He had almost killed the bird once, but as he had come to his window, the bird had gone. Agitation had gotten the better of him, he had realized. His song bird must have realized that as well.

He finally moves from his spot on the cot, rolling over and lifting himself off of the ground. Every inch of his being hurt, but he knew he could not stop his search. And so he stretches, his joints protesting as he begins his first walk of the day: to his window. As usual, his little bird was perched there, chirping like normal, and Arlaige gives him a small nod before he leans on his window and stares out into the wilderness around him.

"Hello again." He greets, lacing his fingers delicately as the cool air brushes lightly over his skin.

The sun was just beginning to rise, streaking the sky with different colors. His bird came at the same time every morning, just before the light touched the sky, and would come at the same time every evening, before the last rays of sunlight were gone. And every morning he would watch as the trees around him would lighten up and begin to sway in the wind, starting their day as he was; bright and early.

"What shall we search for today, hm?" He asks, turning to look at his songbird.

He was a simple little thing, nothing too fancy to look at if you were wanting to buy a bird from the market. Though, Arlaige had come to note that his feathers were never rustled out of place, even when the harsh wind was blowing.

Arlaige rubs his eyes. "I suppose I should go into town." He says as he releases a breath, pushing himself off the ledge and into his room.

He had already been into town. He was tired of going into town and seeing the same faces, the same things, and never finding what he needed. He needed to do something different, but he could not think of what. It frustrated him.

He slides his bag across his shoulders and lets it settle along his hip, glancing back at his window sill, but his little bird was gone, like usual. Arlaige didn't worry, he would be back at his normal time, singing his song as Arlaige made dinner. He supposed he didn't mind it, it was company after all.

A small cough from the other room in the house roused Arlaige from his thoughts and he hastily finishes his morning routine before he rounds the corner and strides across the room, kneeling down beside his sister. He immediately reaches up, his hand coming to brush her silky blonde hair out of her eyes that were turned to look at him.

"Arry.."

"No, shush. You don't need to speak." He mumbles, grabbing a damp cloth from behind him so that he could put it on her forehead. He could feel the heat from her body through the cloth, it was soon warm.