Three year old Zaiden couldn't comprehend the loss he'd sustained that night. Not when his own vision of reality was fading. He was drowing. Drowning in the blood that choked him from his missing tongue and the fatal injury carved into his neck.
He felt warm. Or was he cold? He couldn't tell. His vision blurred as two neat shoes stepped into view, level with his eyes. Zaiden's hands were around his neck, the source of his pain as he sobbed silently. He didn't understand what was happening. He knew that it hurt. It hurt more in the beginning, but now it was becoming numb. He couldn't feel his fingers or his toes and it was spreading, creeping up his ankles, Death's touch taking ahold of the boy. His vision tunneled, everything was fading in and out. The voices around him were too loud and then far too quiet.
And then there was nothing.
Time passed. Zaiden had no idea of how long. He didn't even truly know what time was yet. Other than that it was always against him whenever he pleaded with his mother for one last bed time story and to which she'd say, "Oh look at the time. It's getting late honey, maybe tomorrow night."
His mother.
Where was she? She hadn't read him his bedtime story yet. The Tales of Beedle the Bard, his favourite. Even if he didn't particularly understand what it was about, he liked listening to his mother's voice, so animated as she read.
Zaiden had no idea that he would never hear the words of another bedtime story from her lips ever again.
He cracked an eye open and shut it again almost immediately. It was too bright. The light burned his eyes.
Zaiden rubbed his eyes with small, chubby hands. He lay there blinking rapidly until his vision cleared and the light didn't hurt so much.
He was in one of those places. A hospital? Where sick people go? Was he sick? He certainly was hurt. Although what was once a searing, unbearable pain, had reduced to a dull throb.
Zaiden's hand touched his neck where a puckered and scabbed over scar cut across his throat.
Ouch.
And his mouth. That felt funny. His lips maybe?
His tongue flickered out to lick his lips.
His tongue.
His tongue!
Where was his tongue!?
He began to cry, but the voice wasn't his. It was raspy and ugly. Zaiden called out for his mother but nothing came out, just a broken groan with no form. He cried harder until somebody came rushing to his aid but nobody could consol the mortified child.
They had to put him back under. Again and again until he got past it enough to calm down. Nobody had told the boy his parents were gone. He wondered where they were, but they feared what it would do to him and so he was left in the dark.
And so Zaiden was told that he was in a bad accident that injured him severly. He was told that his parents had gone on a business trip and he stayed at the hospital place, which the boy soon discovered was only one wing of a castle. A castle made into a school full of magical wonder.
Hogwarts.
Zaiden lived at Hogwarts until two years later when he turned five. That was when he learned his parents were killed, although he wouldn't be told the whole truth until he turned ten.
He spent years at Hogwarts, both among the students yet apart from them all the same. Until his first year of Hogwarts, there was nobody his own age and nobody free to play with him growing up.
Zaiden spent his years learning magic with what very little voice he had. The sound had been reduced to broken grunts, groans and hissing noises so when people freaked out or shunned him, Zaiden learnt it was easier to just be silent.
He learnt to speak spells in his mind, to mouth them and to practice away from others need he try verbally. He learnt sign language and the awkward art of eating without a tongue, which many times had frustrated him to the point of rage and tears.
He could have his tongue healed, but that would take away the reminder. The reminder of what happened and the revenge he sought. Against the man with the cruel eyes and the crooked smile that haunted his dreams. And Zaiden would remember all he'd suffered. All he'd survived. Everything he'd endured and show that man that he hadn't won that night. And Zaiden would make that man suffer as he had.
Zyphos Clove would remember his name.
~~~~
~ END OF THE BACKSTORY OF ZAIDEN DOCKERY PART 2
ZAIDEN'S MAIN BACKSTORY: 2/2 COMPLETE
Peace,
BTSWD
Borntosingwithdrama
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