"Son?"

"Son...Wake up."

A rough yet warm hand shook the boy's shoulder until he woke up to see no other than his father. A tall yet rugged man who was clad in jeans and a military shirt as he sat next to his son on his hospital bed.

His mother, a frail tawny skinned woman with dark hair and a worried gaze, was staring out of the ward window next to him.

"Dennis, are you sure we should do this?"

The young man looked at his wife with a stern expression and picked the boy up.

"Yes Abi, I'm sure of it, I know it's against their orders but we're taking our boy home."

The man sighed softly and looked at his son, giving him such a soft smile that the stuffy hospital ward lit up. Even if it was just a little.

"I mean, the Hospital Ward ain't exactly the right place for our Ry, a little too claustrophobic for him if you ask me."

He explained to her as he ruffled Rylan's hair playfully. The young lad let out giggle for the first time in what seemed like months. He smiled gleefully back up at his dad, who was already getting up with him in his arms.

Dennis grabbed onto the youngster's yellow star covered duffel bag as he got up with him. The worn out baggage getting slung over his shoulder as Dennis got ready to go.

It wasn't long until his wife followed. Silently yet anxiously with the occasional chid or hidden chuckle as she watched him play around with the young boy in his arms.

The hospital halls filled with the child's slightly wheezed laughter and beyond content cheer as the man swung him around before eventually putting the young boy on his back.

The night's rain had continued to dribble outside when they trudged out of the eerily sterile world of starched blue gowns and wilting flowers to their battered truck outside.

His mother finally mustered up a gentle smile through her concern as she buckled him up at the back, the warm glow of the couple's love lighting up the soaking wet darkness.

Then the warm glow slowly subsided when a sudden stop in the road snapped him awake. Before, with a glance out of the window and a sudden surge of pain, Rylan remembered why he was there.

His weary eyes soon came to focus on the precession of veterans outside. The uniformed men ready to march to the parade of death with coffin in hand.

His mother's hand was squeezing his gently as she stared blankly ahead. So that as he held his mother's hand, the young boy looked away from the window and into his mother's puffy eyes. The pair were glued to their seats in silence until finally, she straightened her dress and climbed out of the car. Rylan's hand still in hers.

The entire scene in front of him felt painful as they lifted the flag strewn casket, his father's casket. The heavy ache in his chest enough to freeze the young boy in place. His eyes on the casket as he realized that the same light that always brightened up the room, even just a little, has officially been extinguished.

Though it was obvious he wasn't the only one who has had his world shatter before him. Rylan tearfully glanced away from the covered wood over at the rest of the crowd that had gathered around the scene. The area surrounded by his father's comrades and the remnants of a family that was now shattered by unsuspected grief.

Rylan and his mother were in the front of the march as they watched his father being marched down to the sounding of Taps. Off to his final resting place, her hand getting tighter and tighter around his own as her eyes started to well up again. They were lowering the casket now.

The grieving crowd watching somberly as the young soldier was being laid to rest. All the while the young boy, now overcome with shock and grief, pulled his hand away from his mother and ran off to the hole that would now bear his father.

It wasn't long until he had stopped in his tracks and fell onto his knees. Rylan's chest raking wildly in a bout of hysterical sobbing. While another young soldier, one of the few in the crowd of Navy Blue uniforms, kneeled down next to him and held his shoulder.

The soldier's pale blue eyes glancing at the boy before staring at the grave somberly.

His wheezing sobs continued to ring out into the graveyard as the soldier's hand went limp. Yet, instead of moving his hand away from his shoulder, the soldier wrapped his arm around Rylan's shoulders.

He then gently pulled the child up so that he could hug him close as the unlikely pair watched his father being buried in his final resting place. With that, they said their final, silent goodbyes.

The rest of the day was nothing but a blur of grief and sombre. While Rylan spent that evening, staring out at his grandparents' living room with an untouched plate of food on his lap. The only movement to come out of Rylan's body being the occasional sob and his uneven breathing.

His distress was obviously shared with the rest of his family as his father's siblings sat on the couch quietly. Though the siblings' silence was nothing compared to the sinking pit in his chest. A hole in his heart that has been present ever since the day they got the news.

Rylan couldn't bear to look at his grandparents. While the elderly couple were sitting in the corner of the room with his mother. the two women mourning in each other's arms.

All while his grandfather, with his weathered, tear stained face, shakingly gazed at the room around him. As if his entire world has been shattered into pieces. As if, just like Rylan's, the light in his world, has been nothing more but extinguished.

"You okay son?... "

Rylan stopped to look up. Only to see the dark eagle like eyes of an familiar elder peering sympathetically at him. The very faint smell of in laid smoke crowded around the old man. His face contorted in a concerned grimace that showed his furrowed brow.

He put a soft but weather-beaten hand on his shoulder. His eyes gazing into the boy's murky brown eyes. The eyes that belonged to his young grandson. After a soft sigh and brief glance away Rylan's eyes, he squeezed and patted his shoulder before quietly letting go.

"It's okay boy...I understand... "

He muttered softly before walking away to the corner of the room, obviously just as upset. The rest of the day the elder spent leaning against the wall. Often not willing to speak or interact with anyone as he'd rather stare at the walls of the room, lost in thought.

Eventually, his eyes laid on his mother, narrowed and almost over flowing with a strangled form of grief and concern.

Yet, as Abeline looked back at the elder, all he seemed to get back was a look of familial hostility. A look that Rylan in all his dazed and weary observation, just couldn't understand. His mother was usually shy but polite with others, anything but hostile. It's how she's always been, always will be. Unless...

No, in Rylan's head it couldn't be. If he were to have been who he thought he was, Rylan clearly couldn't remember him or remember him well enough. His memory clung onto a faint ember of a nearly forgotten memory.

No matter how hard Rylan would've tried to rake his mind for it. But regardless, he continued his weary observation, finding it a worthwhile distraction from the lingering sorrow.

At least until his paternal grandfather couldn't take the pain anymore. So much so, he got up make his way to the back porch in his futile attempt to escape the pain. The sorrow.

It's almost as if the pain and the grief of losing a son and a father has seeped into the walls itself. The unbearable mist even contaminating everything it touched.

Eventually, he was followed by the elder with the obsidian eyes, a silver and grey braid swinging ever so slightly behind him as he did. At first, Rylan thought nothing of it, as of now his mind is too tired and weak from the grief and the crying.

So with the pair's departure, his observation came to an end. The boy left slumped against the arm of the chair in an attempt to fall asleep.

Anything to wish, even convince him this was just a dream. That his father was still alive and well. Unbeknownst to him that the two elders outside were discussing something that would change his life in the coming months. That would eventually set his life in a completely different direction.