Silent Sparrow

Chapter 2

The wooden door slammed shut, the planks creaking as Elliot sealed the entrance to his house. As if closing the lips of a ancient chest about to unveil its secrets.

His breath came quietly, but each well thought and drawn carefully. He clasped a hand over his chest, feeling the rapid pattering of his heart. The sensation was far from new, but it always got him. The fear, the anxiety. He could still hear it, see it. Feel the tension and terror that swallowed his cries and screams. The soulless dark eyes of the guards as they pulled a bullet through his father's head without hesitation. 

What had he done wrong? A poor carpenter, who simply knew his way around wood, able to create and birth masterpieces from the pieces of trees. His tools like a doctor's scapel, carefully carving out the beautiful child inside, welcoming it into the world of existence. 

What had he done to deserve those cruel men to storm into his home? Accuse him blindly and sadistically take his life?

Elliot stood there a few moments, trying to remind his mind the blood at his feet was of the past, that years had passed since a single guard had intruded into this house. They were safe.

No one else was being taken away.

Settling his heart a fraction slower, he managed to stride into the main room with his breathing under greater control. 

"Eliot!" The tuneless song of an angel drifted to his ears.

A smile cracked across his lips as he bent down, arms spread out at his side as the expected weight of a 10-year-old embraced him. 

"Heyo Leina gal." All signs of fear perished under his immediate mask of practise. "How's my little angel doing?"

"How was Skill School?" Her voice flooded his ears like the sweetest gold honey. "Did Teacher Lenard like it?"

"No," Eliot spoke with his smile retained. How could he not with such a beautiful sister before him, alive and well? Not even his father's work could match to her pureness. "But alas, he doth misread my talents of word!"

As he swung an arm to perform the dramatic pose, he bounced Leina into the other. Her giggles rose like a string of bubbles, something beautiful, fragile, and precious.

"Oh! Eliot!" Leina gasped, suddenly reminded of what ray of hope he offered in such a world. "Do you know how to tie a bow?"

"Well, I know a few knot ties." Eliot replied. "Where is this bow to be tied?"

She leapt out of his arms with the grace of a bird taking flight. A silent little sparrow.

She ran to the corner from which she scooped it up from the floor. A smooth flesh of wood, carved into the image of a precious child. One of their father's creations.

She cradled it a moment, smiling as if the wooden eyes of the doll would be able to see its supposed mother smile and try to copy.

She ran back to her brother, somehow already obtaining a small pink ribbon in her hands.

"Can you help me tie a ribbon at the end of her hair?" She asked, holding onto the two pieces as if they were an offering to the gods.

"Anything for M'lady." He replied with a bow before joining her cross legged on the floor, handling this careful artefact with gentle hands.

As he flipped the doll around to weave the pink ribbon through its string hair, he couldn't help but marvel again at his father's craftsmanship. How he could ever sandpaper a rough piece of wood so smooth was a mystery. One he would never hear from the man himself.