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A couple of children ran across the streets of Heliodor; the second one exclaiming he wanted to be in the front because it was his birthday. And the other children let him.
Erik watched them until they left his sight and kicked away a pebble. Birthdays sure looked like fun. Being an orphan, he didn’t even know when his birthday was. He had been called a seven-year-old brat once by the Vikings, and he had a rough estimation about the passage of time by keeping an eye on the position of the stars and constellations, so he knew how old he was in years.
He had always made sure to get his little sister something for her birthday, although admittedly he didn’t know her exact birthday either. He roughly knew in what time of the year she was born, and at one point he had just picked a day and had called it her birthday, always getting her some extra food or some jewellery. One year he had gotten her that accursed golden necklace with rubies, and that had turned her into gold. He still felt guilty about that.
But she had never gotten anything for him; only one time she had asked when his birthday was and he had shrugged and said he didn’t know. He was fairly sure his parents had celebrated his birthday, before they had passed away, but the memories were vague and he had been too young to know when exactly it had taken place, or the harsh life with the Vikings had pushed the memories to a part of his mind he couldn’t reach. All he remembered that it was sunny, but that in itself didn’t say much.
Mia’s birthday had been his focus, taking care of his sister his priority, and his own birthday had ceased to be a concern of his. Ever since he had lost Mia to that curse, he had been alone and birthday celebrations just weren’t a part of his life. And he was okay with it, he told himself. Who needed a birthday celebration anyway? It was useless, what achievement was it to be a year older?
He sauntered through the streets, his hands in his pocket. Birthday celebrations were pointless. But… that boy sure looked like he enjoyed it.
Would he have had birthday celebrations like all the other kids if he hadn’t been an orphan and slave-labourer? Would his mother have baked a cake? For a moment he imagined a loving home, with cake on the table and some small, colourful flags on the wall. A present from his parents, and his sister would do her best to be nice to him on his special day.
He shook his head; that was just a useless dream and birthday celebrations were lame anyway. A waste of time. As if he even wanted to be the centre of attention. No, it was better not to celebrate them.
Still, it wasn’t the first time in his life he had wondered what it would have been like. Either with parents, or the Vikings being pleasant for once, hosting a big birthday party for him. That never happened of course, but it was something he had imagined. He tried his best to rationalise it, but he couldn’t shake the feeling he had missed something good in his life.
Erik wandered around aimlessly, hands still deep in his pockets and his shoulders hunched. The sun was shining and people seemed happy; he couldn’t imagine why they would be. There were so many bad things happening in the world; hunger, poverty, sickness, war. Why would people be happy? Why would that kid be excited about celebrating his birthday? He closed his eyes. Why did that still sting?
“Erik!” he suddenly heard a familiar voice and he looked back.
“Elian?”
Elian stopped in front of him and had a spark of joy in his eyes. “I finally found you.”
“Were you looking for me?”
“Why else would I be glad I found you?” Elian retorted friendly. “I got you something.”
Erik crossed his arms and frowned. “What for?”
Elian ignored the suspicious sound in his voice. “Remember when we first met, in the dungeon here in Heliodor?”
“Of course.”
“Today that has been exactly one year ago, and we’ve been through so much together since then. I wanted to celebrate us being together for this long and still being alive.” He gently put his bag on the ground and carefully pulled something wrapped in cloth from it.
Elian handed it to Erik, who carefully pulled back the cloth to reveal what was inside it, and blinked a few times as he stared at the delicious-looking cake in his hands. No one had ever bought one for him before. He felt his eyes tear up and quickly rubbed it away, as he didn’t want to start crying in front of Elian, and grinned.
“Thanks," he said, trying to say it in his usual manner, but his eyes shone like a kid waking up to presents. "I wish I would have remembered, or I would have gotten something for you as well.” He smelled the cake; the scent was divine.
“That’s okay,” Elian assured him with a gentle smile. “I’m happy that you are happy.”
“Let’s share it,” Erik decided. He wasn’t going to eat it alone; wasn’t cake supposed to be shared?
Cake. It really started to sink in now. Someone had bought a cake for him, for a special occasion. Maybe it wasn’t a birthday, but Erik didn’t mind. This felt like one and Elian had made that happen.