[Aster]
The fire crackled softly, its irregular rhythm accompanied by the quiet snores and the occasional whisper of the wind slipping through the gaps in the branches that covered the entrance. While the winter outside kept biting at everything and everyone, inside the small hut of ice and snow was warm, cozy, and safe, the golden mist swirling lazily in the air, trapping all the precious heat within its bounds. The icy walls and ceiling of the hut glistened under the soft orange glow, the fire bathed everything in a gentle, flickering light, casting dancing shadows all over the place.
The hut looked nothing like the pile of freezing mud it had been just the night before; no trace of the mess remained. Now, a fresh layer of pine needles covered the floor, so soft and springy that it could be mistaken for a cloud, the scent of the forest filling the humid air. Smoke lazily drifted up to the ceiling, escaping through a tiny gap in the branches, leaving behind a faint scent of burning wood that blended nicely with the foresty smell.
And in the middle of it all, right next to the fireplace, sat a just-woken-up boy on a small mound of pine needles, his skinny, bare legs stretched out in front of him. Aster's naked body glistened in the orange light of the flames, beads of sweat rolling down his pale skin from the fever he still had, the boy's breath coming in shallow, quiet wheezes.
On his lap lay the heads of his mother and sister, their silver hair spilling all over his thighs, the two of them snuggled together in a tangle of arms and legs, their cheeks squished against his skin, eyes closed, and mouths slightly open as they slept. Like him, they were feverish, their bodies twitching now and then, soft whimpers or moans slipping from their lips, sweat glistening on their faces and necks.
But all the puke and urine from yesterday were gone, the three of them now clean, smelling of melted snow and ice, and nothing else. Aster had made sure of that, despite the struggle it took, having spent the entire evening cleaning both himself and them.
Rubbing the sleep from his golden eyes with a tired yawn, Aster pulled down the blindfold that had rested on his forehead and covered his eyes just enough to protect them from the blinding fire, but not enough to obscure his vision completely. He could still see the bed of needles and a bit of the soft glow of the embers, and the gentle curves of his mother's face.
Gently brushing her long, soft silver locks of hair out of the way with his scarred, pale fingers, Aster revealed her flushed cheeks and slightly furrowed eyebrows. A tiny gap between her eyelids revealed the glimmer of her eyes beneath, the blue irises darting rapidly from side to side, caught in the throes of a feverish dream.
It was early morning, the first rays of sunlight just beginning to sneak through the gaps in the branches, adding the softest of oranges and yellows to their faces. Outside, the forest was coming to life, the distant birds starting their morning chorus, their songs echoing through the woods. 'We should eat something...' The thought came to Aster's mind at the sound of that. To ease the furrowing of her brows, he ran his thumb over them, the touch of his scarred skin against hers, gentle and tender, soothing the worry lines away.
As if sensing his stare, or maybe his touch, Nivalis let out a quiet moan, her eyelids fluttering ever so slightly before her eyes opened, fully revealing the deep blue of her irises. Her gaze was unfocused and hazy for a moment before she blinked a few times, then slowly, tiredly, turned her head to look up at him. "A-Asty?" she whispered hoarsely, her voice barely audible over the crackling of the fire and the soft snores of Silvia right nearby.
Giving her a tired smile, Aster whispered back, "Hey, Mom..." and brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear, tucking it in place. "How are you feeling?" he asked, pulling his blindfold a bit higher so she could see his eyes.
Her eyelids drooped a little, a soft, relieved sigh escaping her mouth before she closed her eyes for a moment, leaning into his touch. "I'm feeling better now... I'm not as cold," she murmured, reaching out to grasp his hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. Then, after a pause, she opened her eyes again and glanced around the hut, taking in the changes since the last time she had been awake. "W-when did you...? How long was I out?" she asked quietly, her gaze returning to his face.
His smile grew a little wider at that, his thumb moving down to her cheek, gently caressing it. "It's another morning. You slept through the day and the whole night," he replied, watching her blink in surprise. "I've cleaned up the place a bit, got some new pine needles, and brought us more wood," he went on, his childish voice just as quiet. Shyly, he then pointed to his side, to the large pile of sticks and branches that he kept adding to throughout the previous day whenever he had the energy to do so.
She looked at him for a moment, then her gaze wandered to the woodpile, her eyes widening in surprise once more. "Oh, honey, you should have woken me up... I could have helped you," she said, a concerned frown forming on her face as she returned her attention to him. Her hand reached out to cup his cheek, her thumb wiping a bead of sweat from his chin. "You look so tired... Did you sleep at all? Did Silvia wake up yet?" she asked worriedly.
Aster leaned into her touch, his eyes closing for a moment as he took a deep, shaky breath. He then opened his mouth to speak, but his voice cracked and died in his throat. Swallowing, he tried again, his voice incredibly quiet even in the silence of their home, "I did a bit, yeah."
A few hours of sleep was all he had gotten; the fire kept dying throughout the night, and he had to wake up every hour or so to keep it burning. He had to force his mother and sister to drink some water every few hours as well. "And she did, yesterday in the evening. We even talked a bit, and I helped her go to pee," he continued, giving her a weak smile. "Don't worry about it, Mom... It wasn't all that hard. I'm feeling much better now," he lied, trying to sound reassuring.
He wasn't. He felt like shit. Exhausted. But seeing that she wasn't much better off than he was, there was no way he'd tell her otherwise. Instead, he put on his bravest, most confident face and said, "Besides, I have my strengthening spell working all the time. I'm good," and even gave her a thumbs-up, a weak, tired-looking one.
She studied his face for a moment, her eyes flicking between his, before letting out a defeated sigh and nodding slowly, clearly too exhausted to argue or scold. "Alright, sweetie... I do still feel like a horse ran me over, so thank you for taking care of us... of me..." she added after a pause, giving him a gentle, loving kiss on his thigh, not too far away from that little, limp penis of his.
Just as Aster muttered a shy, "You're welcome," a loud growl came from his mother's stomach, so intense and prolonged that she even winced a little from the pain. A long, miserable sigh left the boy's lips at that, his hand raising to his face and rubbing his tired eyes through the blindfold. 'I really need to get them something to eat,' he realized, knowing full well how difficult it would be to find anything edible out there.
But going any more days without eating would only make them weaker and sicker, possibly even to the point where they wouldn't have any strength to move and hunt anymore. And there was no way he would allow that to happen. They had to eat something, and soon.
His thoughts were interrupted by his mother's gentle, slightly embarrassed voice. "Sorry, honey..." she said, rubbing her growling belly. "Don't worry, the moment I feel a bit better, I'll go and find us something to eat. Until then, we can just—" Her words were cut off by Aster's hand pressing against her lips, silencing her.
Aster immediately shook his head in response, glancing down at her with a slight, worried frown. Gently lifting her head from his lap, as well as his sister's, he placed them back onto the soft bed of pine needles before muttering, "What if it takes days until you're strong enough to walk again? A week?" he asked. Right when she opened her mouth to protest, he continued, "By that time, you won't be able to move at all, and neither will I or Silvia. No, no way. I'll... I'll go out and look for something. Yeah," he said with a determined, feverish nod. "I'll be back before you know it. My mist should last for a few more hours, and there's enough wood to last for an entire day. Just make sure to wake up every hour or two whenever the fire gets smaller."
Not letting him get up to his knees, Nivalis wrapped her arms around his waist and dragged him back down with a worried, "You're being silly. How will you find anything out there if you can barely see, Asty, hm?" before pressing his flat chest against her own, her soft breasts squishing under his weight as she held him in a tight, warm embrace.
He wiggled a bit, trying to break free, but her grip tightened even more, locking him in place. She was too tired to raise her voice, so she kept it to a whisper, her hot breath brushing against his sweaty face. "Even with my Blessing, we struggled quite a lot... How will you manage, all alone? What if you get lost? Not to mention that your magic is not very good from afar, unlike Silvia's."
Her questions made Aster's heart sink, his determination deflating like a popped balloon. "But, Mom..." he whispered back, his voice barely above a whisper, his head dropping onto her collarbone with a quiet thud. She was right, of course, and he knew it, but he also knew that something had to be done. And with his strengthening spell, he was the only one who could actually get up and do it. "If I make a tiny gap beneath my blindfold, just a little, I can kinda see..." He then demonstrated, pulling his blindfold just enough so that his golden eyes were barely visible, peeking from beneath the fabric; his head tilted back funnily as he looked right at her. "See? I'll be just fine."
Rolling her eyes at him being so childish, Nivalis shook her head and said, "How about the rest, huh? How are you going to hunt? With what?" and hugged him tighter, her arms locking around his skinny frame, making his ribs creak a little. "You are not going anywhere, young man. You don't look much better than me, so don't pretend otherwise. You need to rest and get some sleep. We can manage another day without eating, so don't worry."
Aster opened his mouth to argue, but didn't know what to say. Another growl of his mother's stomach filled the brief pause, making him feel even worse about the whole situation. His head slumped back onto her collarbone with a frustrated groan, eyes closing. "...If I get lost, you can just make a fire outside in the evening. I'll see it from afar and come back," he finally muttered, his voice muffled against her skin.
Her response was a light smack of her palm against the tenderness of his butt, the sound echoing across the hut. "I said no," she repeated firmly, leaving no room for argument. "You are staying right here, in bed, with me. End of story. Understood?" she asked in a firm, tired tone while her hand began to knead the flesh of his buttcheek, right where she had smacked him.
Crossing his scarred index and middle fingers behind his back, Aster hummed in a defeated way and nodded. "Good boy," Nivalis whispered, pressing a loving kiss onto the top of his head as he nuzzled her neck. Without herself even noticing, her hand slipped between their bodies, fingers finding and gently kneading his young, hairless testicles with practiced, motherly affection. He let out a soft whimper, but didn't protest, only wiggled his hips to get more comfortable.
Then, with a soft sigh, she let her head slump onto the soft pine needles and closed her eyes, the exhaustion of the conversation and her fever catching up with her. "Sleep now, sweetie," she murmured, not noticing the way the boy's lips twitched into a small, guilty smile. He wasn't planning on going to sleep at all.
...
Grimacing at how loud the branches were as they scraped against each other, Aster slowly closed the entrance of their hut, careful not to let any of the golden mist out or chilly wind in. Once it was tightly shut, he took a moment to listen for a reaction from the inside, only to let out a relieved sigh when his ears caught nothing but the crackling of the fire and his mother's and sister's quiet snores. "Alrighty, that went well..." he whispered, his golden eyes looking up at the clear, blue winter sky from beneath the blindfold, his head tilting back to take in the view.
In the distance, the morning sun shone brightly, casting its golden glow over the forest. Its rays filtered through the branches of the trees, creating dappled patterns on the snow-covered ground. A gentle breeze carried the smell of pine and frost, tickling his nostrils as he breathed it in. The sound of birdsong filled the air, so distant that it very well could be just a trick of the wind playing among the bushes.
'I just need to quickly find something and make it back before she wakes up again. Easy,' Aster thought with a small, hopeful nod before exhaling deeply, letting puffs of white mist briefly obscure his already-limited view. With his heart hammering in his chest, the boy pushed himself off the hut and began to walk towards the rising sun. 'Yeah, easy. Just go out there, look for a bird, kill it, and get back. Simple. Nothing to worry about,' he told himself as he adjusted his aching, well-kneaded testicles after his mother's sleepy fondling.
And so, off he went, his old boots making crunching sounds in the snow with every step he took. The cold air bit at his face and naked chest, but the strengthening spell that burned within every fiber of his being shielded him from the worst of it, leaving him feeling merely uncomfortable.
The dirty half-cloak fluttered around his skinny legs with every step he took, the knife tucked safely in the hem of it at his waist, an emptied bag on his left shoulder. 'Mom will probably be super mad, but how mad can one be while eating? Exactly,' he kept reassuring himself as he ventured further away from the safety of the hut, a small, nervous smile curling at the corners of his mouth.
His sight was terrible, as always. The thin strip of vision provided by the gap under the blindfold allowed him to see only the vague outlines of his surroundings. Yet, he pressed on, determined to find something to bring home to his family. However, that determination didn't last long, as no more than fifty steps later, he was already out of breath and panting like a dog, feeling as though his heart was about to explode.
What little strength he was able to recover over the night was already gone, his legs wobbling and his arms hanging weakly at his sides. "God-dammit..." he wheezed out, his breath coming out in ragged gasps that clouded the air before him. He was barely out of sight of the hut, the place just barely visible through the trees, and yet he already felt as if he'd run a marathon.
For a moment, Aster considered going back home and curling up in bed next to his mother and sister, where it was warm and safe. She was right. There was no way he was going to find anything out here in his state. There was no way he could bring them food. But then, his eyes closed for a moment, and he remembered the way his mother's stomach growled and the way her face looked as she tried to hide her hunger. Silvia was no better yesterday.
They all needed to eat. And if there was a chance, however small, that he could find something, he had to try. He had to try to find a way to feed his family, to give them a fighting chance at recovery. He couldn't, and wouldn't, just sit idly and watch as they got weaker and weaker. 'No. I can't just crawl back to bed and do nothing...' He shook his head, pressing his back against the nearest tree, letting the rough bark dig into his bare skin as he caught his breath.
And while doing so, he took out his mother's knife, his fingers closed around the familiar handle, the worn wood smooth and comforting in his grip. He turned it over in his trembling hand, studying the dull, rust-stained blade and the way the sunlight reflected off it. Then, with a quiet thud, he drove the tip into the trunk and began to carve a small symbol into its bark—just a simple cross, facing back towards their hut so that he could find his way back. The next one he would make would point to this one, and so on. That, and constantly tracking the sun's position, should prevent him from getting lost. Should.
Pushing away from the tree, Aster took a deep breath and set out once again, knife tucked back in the hem of his half-cloak. Huffing and puffing, he walked through the forest, one tired step after another, the snow reaching all the way up to his knees. Every single one of them was a struggle; the pain in his joints flared up with each movement. The world spun around him, his vision narrowing to a tunnel, as the feverish heat of his body clashed with the cold of the winter air.
But then, he suddenly stopped. 'W-wait, how did I...?' Aster wondered as he stared at the hut in front of him, the very one he just crawled out of, the entrance looking exactly as he left it. A look of confusion spread across his pale, sweaty face, his head turning left and right as he looked around, seeing familiar trees and bushes. He then slapped his forehead with a quiet, "Right, follow the sun..." and turned back toward the rising sun. 'I'm an idiot...' he sighed, a shaky hand wiping the sweat from his brow before he set out for the second time.