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Carsir's POV

20 years ago

I twisted around in my sheets, unable to sleep. I sighed, tired but somehow not tired enough to fall asleep. The whole palace was silent, so quiet I could hear a mouse squeak. My door creaked open, sudden light flooding into my room. I sat up, narrowing my eyes at the intruder.

"Momma?" I croaked, my throat dry. My mother closed the door behind her and sat on the bed beside me, a smile on her face.

"Why are you not sleeping, sweetheart?"

"I don't know, momma. I can't fall asleep," I complained. She opened her arms wide, giving me an open invitation to be in my favourite place in the world. In her arms. There was something special being held by your mother. It made you believe all your problems would go away, that her just holding you would change the world. It made you want to never let go of her warmth and love, her presence silencing all anxieties and worries you ever had.

"It's ten o'clock, Carsir. Way past your bedtime," she scolded, running her hands through my hair, still holding me to her chest.

"But I'm a big boy now! I'm already five and a half," I argued into her chest. She laughed, sending vibrations through me.

"I know you're big, Carsir. And you're going to keep growing and growing, even if I won't be there to see it," she said, pulling back to see my face. Tears were streaming down her youthful cheeks and I brushed them away confused.

"Why are you crying, momma?" I didn't understand what she was saying.

"I love you so, so much. You know that right?" she asked, cupping my cheeks.

"I know, momma."

"And I am always here for you, even if doesn't seem like it," her words were interrupted by sobs erupting from her chest. She reached for me again, bringing back into the warmth of her arms. "Oh, I am going to miss you so much," she murmured against my head.

"I don't understand, momma. Where are you going?" I tilted my head up at her, watching her wipe her tears away. She held my small hands in her larger ones and they were damp with her tears.

"I'm not going anywhere, baby. I'm always going to be here because I love you," she reminded me, a smile growing on her face. "I'm not going anywhere," she repeated, tucking me into bed. She lay down beside me, holding me against her. I could still hear her quiet cries as she stroked my hair as I fell asleep.

"I love you, Carsir," was the last thing she ever said.

I woke up the next morning, alone in bed. My father sat at the edge of my bed, his head in his hands. My dad didn't talk to me much and seeing him sitting there, unnerved me.

"What happened, poppa?" I asked, sitting up, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. He raised his head, his eyes red.

"Carsir, son, something happened last night," he said, moving down the bed to sit next to me.

"What?"

"Your mother is gone." I frowned.

"When is she coming back?" I asked, yawning.

"She isn't, Carsir. She-she's dead." My eyes widened, confused as I met my dad's gaze. "We found her body this morning."

"No! She told me she isn't going anywhere!" I screamed, shaking my head maniacally, pushing the covers off me. I jumped off the bed but my father easily caught me, not letting me move. I attempted to get out of his grasp, but his grip was iron.

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