Chapter Text
There hovers an unsettling atmosphere within the walls of a small orphanage. The adults are speaking in hushed tones to keep their secret one.
But the kids are neither blind nor dense. One place at the dinner table had been deserted tonight. Otherwise, cheerful talk and laughter radiate from it, day in, day out. This evening, however, it remained empty and strangely silent.
Himmel had not returned from his search for herbs.
The sun is almost gone now. Only the remaining warm glow of its setting filters through the curtains in faint and scattered rays.
The kids watch Obhut, one of their guardians, put a lantern into the window after coming back from another unsuccessful search. Her eyes look tired, somber even, despite the gentle smile and hopeful words she offers.
A timid voice pipes up from the cluster of children surrounding her.
"Will you go look again tomorrow?"
"Of course I will. With the first light of dawn."
The promise soothes Sorge.
Heiter had seen her play with Himmel the day before. Dragon and hero. He'd watched them from the wooden bench right beneath the kitchen window, dangling his legs in the midday sun and clearly amused by the shy girl's reluctant roars.
Everything was fine then. The scent of potato stew drifting across the yard, the jovial laughter of the others playing, the heavy storybook resting on his knees, almost forgotten.
He liked that better.
If he could, Heiter would go back to yesterday and stay there.
But things like that only remain possible in the fantastic tales he enjoys reading every now and then.
They all sit together for a little longer that evening.
Obhut reads them a story in front of the fireplace to lead their minds away from something no one dares to speak about openly. Heiter knows that, but right now he'd prefer being as blissfully unaware as the youngest among them, now immersed in the compelling adventure that unfolds around them.
But Heiter isn’t in the mood for stories now. He can't keep himself from mulling over the situation at hand.
Himmel is tough. Incredibly so.
But the night is cool, and the shadows harbor unseen dangers.
This is not a fairytale and Himmel is certainly not a true hero, even if he likes to pretend to.
Heiter thinks the chances of him coming home are probably lower than the adults give away.
The idea gnaws at him.
Himmel is his friend, after all. His closest friend, one might say. He's really worried.
If he were here, Heiter is certain, Himmel would tell him not to fret. He is brave, admittedly, and very much confident. Knowing him, he'd probably sneak out himself to search the periphery of the garden and beyond for the lost boy.
But Himmel isn't here.
It’s late into the night when the group of children finally disperses to go to sleep.
Reluctantly Heiter retires with the rest of the boys, obediently brushes his teeth and settles in bed, as he is told.
But he doesn’t feel tired in the least.
He’s still too hung up on what ifs and maybes.
With a final ‘goodnight’ the flicker of the last candle disappears through the door along with their guardian and the room is shrouded in darkness.
As sleep eludes him, Heiter does what he thinks is best. Resting on his back, he folds his hands atop the blanket and prays the way his parents taught him.
Heiter isn’t sure, when he’s drifted off into slumber, his glasses now squished askew against his face into the pillow.
He only realizes that he did, when a noise startles him back to wakefulness. Rubbing his eyes, he spots candlelight cast a warm gleam over a familiar shock of powder blue hair.
Himmel tiptoes into the room, quiet as a seed rat, and is soon veiled in nightly dark as Obhut closes the door behind him with a silent smile.
Himmel looked nothing like Heiter expected in the brief glance he got upon his friend’s face. He doesn’t look distraught. Nor scared. His eyes seem a little red, undoubtedly, but other than that he wears a smile that speaks of great wonder.
The abrupt squeak of a loose floorboard betrays Himmel’s movement in the shadows. There’s a pause. No one wakes. Then two more quick but muted steps before the bed off to the right softly rustles under its occupant.
The room quiets again and Heiter dares to whisper into the night.
"What kept you out there?"
When there’s no answer at first, he almost thinks Himmel may already be fast asleep.
"Nothing,” his friend murmurs once a thoughtful moment has passed. “I got lost."
Heiter hums. He thought as much. But that isn’t everything, he keenly observes.
"Then why do you keep smiling?” He prods. “I can hear you grin right now."
Himmel chuckles, caught, and a creak of wood makes Heiter assume he's turned over in the dark of their room to face his friend.
"I found... some really beautiful flowers. Maybe you can see them as well sometime."
What an airhead, thinks Heiter. Being this happy about some flowers after causing them all so much worry.
But he's a happy airhead, at least. And, also, very much alive and unscathed.
Heiter appreciates that. He lets himself be infected by said airhead’s ever-so-radiant grin.
"What’s so special about some flowers? There are plenty pretty ones out in the garden."
He pulls his blanket up to his chin and yawns. He can't really imagine that mundane discovery being all this exciting to keep beaming over until now. Nonetheless, he can’t deny the cryptic answer has piqued his curiosity somewhat.
"But alright, maybe someday."
After all, no one had truly believed the lost boy would find his way home in the dark of night. Less so with stories of beauty to tell. But Himmel accomplished what the adults had no longer dared to hope for.
Very slowly Heiter starts to believe that Himmel may just be capable of achieving the most astonishing things.
And even though it’s usually not quite his thing, a little forest adventure with his best friend doesn't sound all too bad, does it?