Varian, Son of Quirin, Child of the Moon...

Prologue: "Please, I Need Your Help! My Son is Dying!!"

Quirin ran as quickly as he could through the snow, a tightly wrapped bundle clutched against his chest. He had to get to the castle as fast as he could. There was no other alternative. The life of his son depended on it.

His son.

He paused for a moment, ignoring the wind and stinging snow, as he gently unwrapped the bundle slightly. He looked down at the sleeping face of his two year old son. The toddler was very sick, having caught the sickness spreading through Corona. He needed medicine quickly and their village had none.

He gently nudged the child's cheek. "Varian, open your eyes, son. Please, for Daddy? Just for a moment.." He continued the action until the tiny toddler opened his eyes with a whine. They were a deep shade of brown, similar to his father's. Varian looked a lot like him, except for the freckles. They were from his late wife.

The child's face was pale and there were bags under his eyes. A violent cough left him, fragile body shuddering from chills as well as the snow now hitting his face. Quirin wrapped him back up securely before continuing on.

It took him a few more hours to finally reach the island the palace resided on. He forced his way inside, heading for the throne room. "Frederic! Frederic, I need your help! My son is very sick!", he yelled desperately as he burst through the heavy doors. The king stood up, startled. He looked tired. Understandable, considering it has been six years now that the princess has been missing. "Quirin! What is the meaning of this! The castle is on lockdown!", Frederic demanded, the Queen absent from her throne. Quirin ran to him, stopping to catch his breath. "Frederic, my friend. Please. My only son, my little Varian, has caught the virus. I need medicine for him. I know the capital has some!", he looked at the king pleadingly, unwrapping his son enough so Frederic could see him.

The king sighed, looking somber. "I'm sorry, but I don't have any extra to spare. I can't help you." Quirin gaped at him. "What?? You said that you'd help us! You promised me that at my wife's funeral!" Frederic grabbed his shoulders firmly. "Quirin, listen to me! I want to help you, I really do! I just can't right now! We barely have enough for the citizens of the capital!", he exhaled, releasing him. He motioned to the guards. "If the child is truly as sick as you say, then I can't have him in the castle. You need to leave." The guards grabbed onto Quirin and started dragging him away. He  struggled desperately, eyes wild.

"FREDERIC!! FREDERIC, PLEASE!! PLEASE, I NEED YOUR HELP!! MY SON IS DYING!!! FREDERIC!!!!!", he cried as he was dragged away. He held his son close to him as he was thrown out of the castle. "Dammit! What do I do now..?"

He had no choice but to return home and nurse his son back to health in anyway that he could. He'd already lost his wife...he wasn't going to lose Varian too.

He began the trek back to Old Corona, holding his son tightly. He was so focused that he didn't notice how the toddler in his arms became strangely silent on the way there....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Quirin held Varian with one arm as he shut the door to their house, locking it. Then he sighed. He needed to get his son warm first, that time out in the blizzard couldn't have been good for him. He carried him over to the crib he'd built and unwrapped his head. The toddler's eyes were closed and he appeared to be asleep. Quirin smiled fondly. His little Varian was so cute and he was looking forward to seeing him grow up. He was already a very smart child, having learned his first word long before the other babies in the village. He was going to do great things one day. Maybe even become a protector of Corona. Who knew?

He ran his fingers through the child's dark hair, kissing his forehead. He pulled back slowly, frowning. Varian was really cold, almost fatally so. A wave of fear crashed over him. "Varian?? Varian, open your eyes for Daddy!!", he cried, shaking the toddler in a slight panic. "Varian!! Varian!!!! Wake up!!!" There was no response. No movement. No sign that he was even alive. His heart sank. His son....His son....His son was dead. "VARIAN!!!!"

He must have died on the return trip. He fell to his knees, holding his son close as he sobbed into the toddler's delicate hair. He had nothing left now.

He stayed that way for awhile before slowly standing up. He gently rested Varian down in his crib, wiping his eyes. "Rest well, my angel..." He walked to the kitchen, planning on getting some water.

He sat at the table, feeling empty and helpless. Then he scowled, abruptly standing back up. No. There had to be something he could do. There was one story he had studied before. A story that wasn't as well known as the Sundrop.

The Moondrop.

(End.)