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Clive opened his eyes groggily, feeling sleepy and tired as he awoke in the middle of the night. It was dark outside, with heavy clouds hanging low in the sky. The moon's soft glow peeked through the few gaps in between, but it didn't make much of a difference. Yet, it was too bright for Clive's eyes.
The young boy wanted nothing more than to pull the covers over his head, turn around and fall back to his dreamless sleep. Morning would come soon enough, welcoming him with more lessons, educational and physical ones alike.
But for some reason, sleep didn't return to him as it was supposed to. He was deadly tired from the day, barely able to keep his eyes open. They were nothing but tiny slits, the blue of his eyes peeking through them.
Clive felt restless, his heart beating twice as fast inside his chest. He felt how every beat pounded against his ribs with extreme force, making his chest ache. He had no idea what was happening, but the one thing he could tell was that something was wrong.
Deep inside himself, he felt a storm brewing, a little flame threatened to be blown out by the forces of nature. Clive felt the strong desire to protect the small fire, the urge to hug it close and never let go of it again. It felt like the flame was calling for him and he was drawn to it like a moth.
He pushed himself into a sitting position, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as well as he could. Yawning, he slipped out of his bed, clad in nothing but his pyjamas. Cold seeped through him when his bare feet made contact with the floor made of stone, but he didn't have the mind to care much about it.
Slowly, he swayed to the large door of his chamber, placing both of his palms on the smooth surface before he pushed with all his sleepy might. He tried his best, but it wasn't enough, so he pressed his cheek against the door as well and tried again. This time the door released a loud groan and slowly creaked open, the flickering light of torches illuminating the hallways of the castle entering his room.
Clive didn't open the heavy door completely, only to a gap through which he could slip. Once outside of his room, he heard voices filling the air, their echoes bouncing from the high walls. They were nothing but a jumbled mess, so he didn't understand much of what was shouted. Only that there was apparently an emergency and the healers were needed.
The young boy wondered what was going on, but found his attention hastily drawn back to the flame calling for him. It was louder now, stronger too, urging him to rescue it as soon as possible. Clive didn't hesitate as he began stumbling in the direction from where it was called. He didn't know how, but for some reason, he could tell exactly where it was.
With small and uncertain steps he moved closer and closer, the voices from earlier getting louder and louder at the same time. His half-asleep mind managed to connect the dots that the flame calling for him was probably the reason for all the commotion.
When he was close enough, he could see a room as bright as day itself, people running inside before others ran in the opposite direction. The commotion was the loudest here as was the call of the little flame. Above all, Clive heard the cries of a baby, loud and squeaky. They were full of distraught and fright and it made Clive's heart ache even more. Yet, he found the strength to smile softly.
“Found you my little flame,” he whispered to himself before he continued his march and entered the room.
The inside was as much of a mess as the overlapping voices had hinted at. Clive found his father and mother inside, arguing and shouting different orders to the doctors who looked like they were fed up with their master and were about to snap. Lord Murdoch alongside other soldiers was also inside the room, looking calm, but Clive swore he could see each of them frown. Nothing of that mattered to him though, not when he could see the little flame that was calling for him, could hear its pleases for help.
Joshua's cries filled the room while he whined and made a fuss inside his crib, his limbs trashing in every possible direction. The doctors who tried to examine him hissed when their fingers were boxed or kicked away or made the unfortunate experience of meeting the rage of a toothless mouth.
Clive stumbled further into the room, someone noticing his presence at last and calling out his name. “Clive?! What are you doing here?” His father asked upset, not about his permeance but more about the general situation he was facing.
Clive didn't answer, too focused on his little brother.
“You should be in bed, Clive. You have a long day tomorrow, so let us deal with this,” he said next, confused that his son didn't respond to him at all.
“Listen to your father!” Anabella spat from behind Elwin, clearly enraged about her son's disrespectful behaviour.
Yet, Clive didn't respond to any of them, ignoring them entirely, never stopping to close the distance between the crib and himself.
“Joshua...” he mouthed, his voice barely more than a whisper. It was loud enough for his baby brother to hear, his cries losing their power and morphing into sobs.
Elwin noticed the change in Joshua immediately, raising his hand into the air. It was a sign for everyone to stop their actions. Of course, his dear wife didn't understand his demand and stomped to Clive, so he grabbed her shoulder when she went past him and pulled her back. Elwin saw the fire in her eyes, the rage, how her mouth twitched but he glared her down with a single look, daring her to say anything. It was enough to shut her up. When he was certain that she wouldn't do anything stupid, he released her from his grasp and returned his attention to his sons, observing how things would develop now that Clive was here.
While Elwin restrained his mother, Clive reached Joshua's crib, grabbing its side and pulling it carefully in his direction so that he could look over the edge. Joshua had stopped making a fuss by now, only continuing to sob. When he saw his older brother, he made grubby hands at him, causing Clive to smile widely.
“I'm here my little flame, my beloved little Joshua,” Clive said as he swung one of his legs over the edge, intending to climb inside. Murdoch, who stood the closest to the crib, acted on pure instinct and grabbed the edge, preventing Clive's climb inside would topple the entire crib over.
Neither Joshua nor Clive cared about the almost disaster. The younger one had stopped sobbing at this point with his brother right beside him and instead was laughing, his voice full of joy. Clive made his body fit into the enclosed space, pulling his baby brother against his chest and resting his chin on top of Joshua's head as he lay down.
Both brothers yawned at the same time in their embrace and only a few seconds later they had already fallen asleep, stunning every adult in the room. Joshua had made such a fuss only because he was missing his brother.
Elwin was the first to snap out of his stupor, ushering everyone present outside so that his sons could sleep in peace. He had to push Anabella outside, much to her dismay because she didn't approve of this, but Elwin didn't care. He closed the door straight into her face, realising a breath of relief that the commotion was finally over.
The only sound in the room was the even breaths and soft snores of his sons, each noise they made sounding like music to his ears. He pulled a chair next to the crib and watched them in their sleep for a while before he retired for the night as well, knowing that Joshua and Clive were in the best hands possible. He pulled the comforters over their sleeping forms and pressed a kiss to each of their cheeks.
“Good Night my beloved sons,” he said gently with his rough voice before he left the room as well.