Chapter Text
Mathias was cold. The window was open, but he was far too small to reach the knob and close it. Wrapped in his only blanket, he shivered on his bed, waiting—hoping—for his parents to come. He perked up when he heard hushed voices outside.
"Thank you," his father was saying. "We've been…"
The rest was drowned by the wind and Mathias's sniff.
"Where is he?" a voice he didn't know asked.
"… room," he heard his mother reply as the door opened.
He jumped on his feet, smile up to his ears. His parents were home. They would come and help him. Maybe they would even give him another blanket. His own door opened and Mathias almost ran to hug them, but the man who walked in his room was not his father. He was tall, blond, and he looked terribly annoyed.
His mother was right behind the stranger, and Mathias looked at her.
"Mom?" he asked, feeling deep in his guts that something was wrong. "Mom, who is this?"
"A sorcerer," she replied in a voice colder than the wind.
Mathias knew it, nothing good was going to happen. There was a painful knot in his throat, and he wanted nothing more than a warm hug.
The man muttered some words Mathias couldn't understand and touched his forehead. His own skin glew pale red for a few seconds and he shivered.
"Mom?" he repeated, tears threatening to spill—but his parents hated when he cried. "What's going on?"
She didn't even meet his eyes.
"From now on," the man declared flatly, "you won't be able to leave this room."
"But…"
"Oh, you can try. But you'll die before the end of the day."
Mathias didn't understand. He knew what dying meant. Dying didn't happen to healthy little boys, the neighbor had said so.
His eyes were burning.
"Why?" he quavered.
"Ask your parents."
It was all the man said before he left the room, slamming the door with an air of finality.