Chapter 8: Chapter 7: The Ballad of Death (II)

As Adrien slowly pried open the door, he prayed with every ounce of his being for his parents to be alright. 

 

To what god he was praying to, Adrien didn’t know and frankly, he didn't care. He just hoped that they would save his parents from their likely tragic fate…if they even existed.

 

One could argue that it was a futile endeavor… hell, even Adrien would think the same. However,  he nonetheless prayed, grasping the one thing that often clouds man’s perception of reality.

 

Hope.

 

Prior to this, Adrien didn’t even think he would react this strongly to death. As a scientist, he saw it merely as the nexus of all life; it was inevitable. So, he had never really feared it and had always perceived it as simply part of the complex cycle that was life.

 

Alas, reality had thrown all that out the window. Experiencing someone you cared about dying was no joke, and Adrien was about to learn that firsthand. 

 

It would serve as a vital lesson that would reforge his entire personality and being.

 

Once Adrien opened the door, his heart sank to the bottom of the Abyss and his breath momentarily ceased.

 

His blue eyes, now not so iridescent anymore, saw his parents lying down on their bed and looking towards him with a weak smile. 

 

Beside them, a spectacled old man with twinkling blue eyes stood soberly with his hands behind his back, also gazing in his direction.

 

Yes, it was Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

 

Adrien immediately ignored the old man and focused his gaze on his parents.

 

“Maman….Papa….” he managed to voice out, his voice sounding weak and broken.

 

Perenelle and Nicolas continued to smile at him, trying to give him some form of reassurance that everything was alright…just like a loving parent would.

 

Nicolas was the first to speak, “Adrien, Viens ici.”

 

(A/N: Viens ici ~ come here.)

 

Without hesitation, Adrien slowly walked over to the side his father was laying on, the same side Dumbledore was standing.

 

“Adrien…” Nicolas started, managing to move his hands to hold that of his son’s. His hands felt terribly cold, rough, and frail. It made Adrien’s eyes water even more.

 

Nicolas' silvery eyes gazed into Adrien’s and seemed to flicker with a myriad of emotions.

 

“Adrien, my son…Your mother and I have come to the end of our long life.”

 

As soon as Adrien heard that he could no longer hold back the waterfall of tears. They gushed out from his eyes rapidly and drenched his clothes, making him more sensitive to the feeling of death’s grip.

 

It was cold…way too cold, and sinister. 

 

Nicolas smiled seeing his son cry. He immediately increased his grip on his son’s hand, which caused Adrien’s crying to decrease.

 

“Son, do not be sad. I have lived a fulfilling life….Look at me, I’m smiling am I not?” Nicolas attempted to reassure his son, and it worked. Adrien ceased his crying and paid rapt attention to the frail, weak voice of his father.

 

Seeing that, Nicolas smiled and continued.

 

“I have experienced everything life has to offer. I have experienced fear, glory, falling in love, war, and the cruelest of them all…time. 

 

Son, Your mother and I never expected to have you. You suddenly appeared out of the blue, during the time when your mother and I’s life was starting to feel bleak. Your birth was akin to light, light that brilliantly illuminated our gray lives. 

 

You gave us a purpose, and life. You made us feel what it felt like to have a child. Your smile was our smile, and it made us quickly forget what life was before you were born. 

 

It made 660 years of living more than worth it. I would gladly do so again, if it meant being able to witness your smile once more.

 

Unfortunately, your birth also served to remind us how cruel time is. It drained us of the remaining life we had left and prevented us from seeing you grow up. Fate is a cruel thing.”

 

Nicolas said, smiling at the end. He tightened his grip over Adrien’s hand and looked towards Dumbledore.

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“Son, Albus will take care of you from now on until you are old enough to live on your own. You will leave this house and go stay with him. I have also left everything I have or own in your possession. Albus would explain when you are of age.” 

 

Nicolas instructed, looking at his son with soft eyes. Adrien nodded his head slightly, his face drained of all happiness…as if sorrow was the only thing he knew.

 

Nicolas smiled again, and concluded, “ Son, you must continue to live like the light you are. Do not be misguided. Always remember who you are…” 

 

As Nicolas finished speaking, Perenelle turned her head slightly to see Adrien better. The woman looked to be on the brink of death and could barely move her mouth, which made Adrien’s chest tighten even more.

 

Slowly, her mouth started to move, “I…love…you…” she said slowly, in her frail voice void of all life.

 

Adrien could feel his tears about to burst out, but he held himself and remained firm.

 

Nicolas and Perenelle smiled seeing that. Nicolas then turned to Dumbledore.

 

“Albus, please take care of my son. Look after him, guide him, and protect him. Please…” he said, looking at Dumbledore intently.

 

Dumbledore nodded his head somberly, “Of course, Nicolas. I swear...”

 

Nicolas smiled and looked back at Adrien. He held Perenelle’s hand and the two of them smiled at Adrien,

 

“This is goodbye son. We love you…” Nicolas said, his voice gradually becoming weaker. Adrien felt the grip on his hand loosen up slowly before easing completely.

 

It happened. Nicolas and Perenelle closed their eyes for eternity…never to be opened again.

 

Adrien just continued to stare at them in silence. The only thing audible was the creaking of the doors and the howling of the winds outside. The weather seemed to be turning grim.

 

After a few minutes of this deathly silence, Dumbledore spoke, “Adrien, your parents were wo–”

 

“When’s the funeral supposed to be?” Adrien interrupted him before he could finish his statement.

 

Dumbledore looked slightly taken aback. Nonetheless, he answered, “This weekend.”

 

“Right.” Adrien responded, humming in acknowledgement.

 

He then walked out of the room and back to his room quietly whilst deep in his thoughts. Upon reaching his room, he lay down on his bed, sighed, and looked out of his window after hearing the signature pitter-patter sound of raindrops.

 

The sound reverberated and the ferocity of the howling winds increased. Thunderclouds started to appear and shower the lands around in lightning, scaring the wildlife with its thunderous roar. 

 

Adrien saw Aella flying within those thunderclouds. Her white feathers had turned a deep navy and blue lightning crackled around them. It was as if she was responding to Adrien’s emotions.

 

Adrien sighed and clenched his fists whilst deep in thought, the only sounds audible being that of the fierce, and terrifying storm that was brewing.

 

Today, the 24th of August 1986, he heard the Ballad of Death.

 

A ballad full of melancholy, evident by angst in its grip as it sang.

 

Death was a respecter of none, once your time was nigh, it would come at you with wide arms, embracing you like its long lost lover.

 

When death came, your fate was sealed.

 

Such an inevitability could not be defied by the souls of this mundane world.

 

However, what if the soul was of foreign origin? 

 

Could its iron will be defied?

 

Indeed, it is an excellent question.

 

A question whose answer we have yet to see…

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