Under His Mother's Wing - PewDiepie Fanfic Ch. 7

Chapter 7:

The hard, metallic feathers of Isis's wings scraped the floor with a dull screech as she stumbled down a dark hallway. She had no more energy to lift them; she barely had enough left to stand upright. With one arm she supported herself on whatever wall or object she could feel out in the dark. With the other, she held her tiny, golden child close to her thudding chest.

The golden statue of the Egyptian goddess hadn't the slightest clue where she was going. Dazed and disoriented, she didn't care where she ended up. She just needed a place to hide; a place away from that damned Back Hall that had suddenly turned from a sanctuary into a tomb.

Stephano remained silent as his mother carried him along. He clung to her neck and buried his face in her shoulder to avoid looking at the crimson liquid that seemed to cover every inch of her clothing. He heard unsteady breaths rattle in her throat, but was still too stunned from the day's earlier events to question much of what he was seeing or hearing. All he could consciously think to do was hold on tightly to his mother and wait to see where she was taking him without his brother.

A floating feeling of lightheadedness suddenly made Isis weak on her feet. She reached for something to catch herself on, but wasn't fast enough. She gasped as, for an instant, she felt as though she were falling through a shadowy, endless void. Her shoulder hit the wall with a thud, knocking her completely off-balance. With Stephano in her arms, she sank to the ground with a groan of discomfort. The contortion of her body caused a searing pain from the horrendous open wound in her torso. With a hiss, Isis tried covering the wound with her hand to stop the fresh leakage of blood she felt coming from it.

The golden goddess had been extremely lucky. Eloi had failed to land a perfect hit on her. She'd been running away from him in that instant, and the sword thrust had been rushed. The blade had entered the lower right of her back, just missing her spine, and exited the upper right of her stomach below her ribcage. The weapon had missed any major arteries and barely came sort of puncturing a lung. Honestly, Isis was surprised she was still alive. However, her injuries were irreparable, and she knew it. The adrenaline that had kept her moving until now was beginning to wear off, and she had begun to feel tired. As she watched still more of her warm lifeblood drain out, she began to feel afraid.

"Mommy?" Stephano asked, startled by his mother's sudden topple. "Are you okay?"

Isis turned her tearful and sweat-streaked face towards her son. The concern and confusion on his young face was enough to boost her will to live, even a little. She knew she couldn't fall asleep yet; if she did, she knew she might never wake up again. She needed to get her child to a safe place, hidden enough away that he would have a chance of escaping his father and his Masters. She had to get back on her feet.

Isis planted a soft kiss on her son's forehead, not knowing how to answer his question. Finding a large crate nearby to grip on to, she clumsily stood to her feet and continued on, running her hand over the wall in search of the end of the hallway. She rounded a few more maze-like corridors and ducked through one or two broken wall panels, going as deep into the upper residential wing as she could manage. Finally, feeling satisfied where she was – and rapidly running out of willpower to go any further – Isis turned the first unlocked handle she came across and quietly slipped inside.

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The room beyond, like most rooms in this wing of Brennenburg, was a dusty bedroom. This one was in fairly usable condition; a lit candle flickered on the nightstand, and the bed and closets were still standing. The only sign of disturbance the chamber held was a few open drawers in the nightstand. Other than that, it looked like the perfect place to stop.

Stephano felt himself being lowered to the ground. His mother's hand tapped his back, urging him in the direction of the bed. Quietly, he obeyed. The rays of mid-afternoon light coming through the moth-eaten curtains implied the mother and her child had been traversing the castle for quite a few hours.

The covers on the bed were tucked underneath the headboard, and the seven-year-old boy didn't feel like pulling them out. Lying on top of the dusty covers, the young boy knew his mother wanted him to sleep; but there were still too many questions rattling his mind for him to want sleep. He felt the bed shake as Isis practically collapsed onto the mattress beside him.

"Try to get some sleep, baby." He heard his mother say breathlessly, as her hand gently pulled off his hijab.

Stephano turned over to face where his mother sat on the edge of the mattress. He quickly looked away when he was reminded of the horrible state she was in. No child wants to see their mother like that, hunched over a gaping wound that's enough to turn their stomach; it was too much for him to take in. Regardless of that, he had a question to ask, and we wanted the answer.

"Mommy…" Stephano asked quietly. "Why did you leave Gonzo?"

Isis, already emotionally and physically traumatized, broke down instantly. She had no more reason to hold back or hide it, she had no more reason to be strong, and it all came out at once. She covered her face with her hands and sobbed uncontrollably, mourning everything that was wrong with the world; the loss of her child, now condemned forever to the lifestyle she fought so hard to spare him from. Now, soon her remaining son would be left alone to fend for himself. The castle was a cruel and unforgiving place to live, especially for children. She felt sick at the thought of her little boy being left to its mercy.

Stephano watched in distressed silence as his mother buried her tears in his hijab. He'd only seen his mother cry a few rare times in his short lifespan, but it never got any easier to watch. As his mother sank face-down on the mattress, the young, golden boy slowly crawled to her side.

"Mommy?" Stephano peeped, gently shaking his mother's shoulder. "Please stop crying, okay? Please?"

Isis heard her son's pleas, but was unable to stop herself. She kept her face hidden from view with the tiny headpiece in her hands. Her uncontrollable mourning continued, and just when she thought her heart couldn't take it anymore, her body heaved suddenly.

Isis unintentionally held her son's hijab around her mouth as she coughed. A metallic taste coated her teeth, and immediately the Egyptian goddess knew something was wrong. Quickly pulling the gold cloth away from her mouth, Isis saw a dark strand of clotted blood connecting her mouth to the headpiece. Isis's eyes doubled in size, and a quick glance at her son revealed her mirrored expression.

"M-Mommy?" Stephano squeaked as he saw his mother spit blood.

Isis quickly pressed the bloodstained cloth to the mattress, trying to hide it from Stephano. She let her face follow it into the covers, continuing to sob lightly, and visibly trembling in every muscle. Laying down had put pressure on her severed organs, squeezing what little blood she still had left out of her veins.

Isis felt all energy flee her body as she lay there, trembling from physical shock and fear. A small body laid down close to her hers; welcome warmth against golden skin that was starting to turn cold. Isis turned her head and opened her weary eyes to see Stephano's youthful face staring back at her.

"Mommy, why did you leave Gonzo?" He repeated his question. The boy's mother saw a glaze of tears adding luster to his golden eyes.

"Baby, you need to listen to Mommy." Isis struggled to form her words as she began to duck in and out of consciousness. Her body was shutting down, and already her limbs had lost their ability to move. "You need to stay away from Gonzales from now on, okay?"

"Why?"

"Because…" Isis completely lost consciousness for a few seconds, but forced herself back. "He's one of the bad people now." Her voice caught again as she said it aloud.

"No he's not!" Stephano protested loudly. "He's not bad, he's Gonzo!"

Isis let out a shaking sigh, the metallic taste coming back up her throat again. "Come here, Stephano." She tenderly raised a wing and laid it over her son, pulling him slightly closer to her.

Stephano obeyed his mother, snuggling up alongside her and noticing how cold she was. He was scared and confused more than any child ever deserves to be, but he took comfort in the feel of his mother's painted feathers draped over him like a security blanket. It was the old, familiar feeling he'd known since birth, and it was enough to take away most of his fear.

Isis watched her son's tense body relax under her motherly touch, and held back another sob. In a way, this was almost cruel; inviting her only remaining child to sleep next to her as she took her final breaths. She knew that when he woke, he would find her beside him, stiff and pale with the finality of death. Isis was making the first and only selfish decision as a mother she'd ever made, and she silently prayed Stephano would understand someday:

Isis, the statue modeled after the immortal Egyptian goddess, was indescribably terrified of her own impending death.

"Just close your eyes and sleep, baby." Isis said softly to her child. "But first, can you tell Mommy that you'll stay away from the Barrels…and your brother?"

"I don't want to stay away from Gonzales." Stephano insisted.

"I know…" Isis let out another shallow breath. "But you do what Mommy says, okay? Tell me you'll stay away from him. He…He'll hurt people one day. I don't want him to hurt you."

Stephano gave his mother a look of dismay. "Gonzales will hurt people?!"

"Not just him…all the Barrels will." Isis closed her eyes, too weak to hold them open any longer. "They already have…they've hurt me…and you…and Gonzales."

Stephano rested his cheek against the covers, contemplating his mother's quiet words for a minute or two. Looking into his mother's face, he took note of how surprisingly peaceful it was; despite the blood, bruises, and steaks of black, watery paint on her cheeks.

"I'll stay away from them, Mommy." Stephano said. "In fact, I'll keep everyone away from them! I don't want anyone else getting hurt!"

Isis smiled, nothing more than a faint change on her mostly still face. "That would be wonderful, Stephano." She whispered. "That would make me very happy."

So it was there, nestled safely under his mother's wing, that Stephano made his solemn vow to protect every vulnerable person he could from the Barrels…and his brother. It was there, that it all started.

Satisfied with his mother's approval, Stephano drifted off into an oblivious doze and swiftly fell asleep. Isis, her breaths coming slower and fewer with each passing second, opened her eyes and took a long, loving look at her son's sleeping face. It was the last thing she ever saw.