Caleb

Caleb woke to the sound of his father’s limping footsteps and anxious murmuring. Rubbing his eyes, he left his corner of the lair and put a gentle foreclaw on the Obelisk’s shoulder to stop his pacing.

“Oh! Good morning, Caleb. And happy hatchday!” His father tried to smile, but still his brow scrunched with worry. “Did I wake you?”

He had expected his father would have a hard time. Old memories easily resurfaced, especially today. “Well… yes, but it’s alright.” Caleb smiled, guided him to a pile of cushions nearby. “Sit down, you’re supposed to keep off that leg.”

His father grumbled in weak protest, sinking into the cushions with a sigh. “I was going to make breakfast for us this time.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Caleb insisted, rubbing the last of the sleep from his eyes as he started preparations for their meal. “You’re coming to the play, right?” He glanced back at his father, his eyes lingering on the scars that crisscrossed his body. “If you’re feeling up to it, of course.”

“Of course!” His father smiled genuinely for the first time that day, possibly the first time in the last week. Even Caleb found himself humming under his breath as he worked. Maybe this year they could celebrate, and leave some of the memories behind.

***

"Well, what do you think?" Breeze grinned, making a sweeping gesture with his foreclaw. “A little extra pizazz for the hatchday boy,” he said, elbowing Caleb playfully. The stage was decked out with fresh flowers, fluttering silks, and little triangular flags that said “Happy Hatchday!” in various handwriting.

“It looks incredible!” Caleb exclaimed. “You didn’t have to make such a fuss about me.”

“Don’t even start.” The Coatl rolled his eyes and herded his friend backstage, handing him a costume to change into. “You deserve it! Here, you’re late and the show’s starting soon. Don’t wanna keep the crowd waiting!”

“Okay, okay!” Caleb took the costume and ducked into his a changing room. Midway through, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and froze. He wondered for the millionth time if he looked like his mother. If his father was there, he would’ve assured him he was unique and perfect, but Caleb still wondered.

He fumbled with the clasps as his foreclaws trembled with anger. Why, after all these years, and despite having never known her, did she still preoccupy his thoughts?

A knock at the door brought him back to reality. “You’re on!”

Caleb rushed to the stage, just in time for his cue. As soon as he opened his mouth to sing, the anger was drowned out by his joy. When he finished with a flourish, the crowd burst into applause and roars of approval. He spotted his father in the front row, and they exchanged wide smiles. For a moment, everything was good.
- by ceruleansky