“Remus… where’s Remus?” The soft voice of little Romulus rose, yet as he tried to look around a violent cough was torn from his throat. He looked into his arm and saw splatters of blood.
“Mammy? Mammy, where are you?” He began to wail, waterfalls of tears falling down his face. Yet nobody answered his silence.
“Mammy? Daddy! Daddy!” He shouted with all might but was forced to cough violently, even more blood splattering his skin.
The young boy began to get dizzy, his world becoming blurry. He rose from his small bed and got from under the covers, slowly pattering to the door all the while coughs tore blood from his lungs. It was getting harder to walk, his world began to spin, he could feel the slow drip of burgundy blood down his chin and onto the floor but he had to find his family.
“Sosban fach yn berwi ar y tân” he began to mumble, the lullaby his mother would sing to him and Remus slipping from his tongue. He remembered what happened to Remus, how he was a really big dog, maybe even a wolf… he remembered how he pounced on him, how he wanted to see his Mammy…
“Sosban fawr yn berwi ar y llawr” The words slipped from his lips, louder and louder, the blood dripping down his chin. His brother… his mother… his father… Romulus began to feel even more strangely, as if he wasn’t there, as if he… but the little boy couldn’t explain it, he only continued to move, and move, and move.
“A’r gath wedi sgrapo Joni bach” he continued. The walls of his house faded into the dark woods surrounding them, they faded into the deep rivers crossing Wales, and they faded, and he faded.
Romulus vaguely wondered why he didn’t get tired, or why he never wanted water, or where he was going. He just knew that he wanted his family, his Mammy, his Daddy, his baby brother…
“Cytgan, Paid â chodi’r sosban fach” The little boy had no idea how many times he’d sung that lullaby, or how many trees he passed. He didn’t know what time it was, much of anything, really. He just wanted his family. He just wanted Remus.
“Paid â chodi’r sosban fawr” he mumbled, though his eyes came upon a great big lake. Despite the massive water, he could see something in the distance, something sparkling in the mountains, and he had a feeling that was where he was meant to be.
“Dyma’r llwynog,” he walked along the water, and he didn’t wonder why,
“Dyma’r llwynog,” he saw the great castle and the last of children walking into the castle. They were so tall, Romulus thought. He wandered after them with renewed speed.
“Dyma’r llwynog fach y mor.” the little boy finished, though another eerily similar voice joined him. His head darted around to meet the eyes of the child, the person with so many scars he could barely see his eyes.
“Lupin—!” A great, strict woman called out from beside the stool with another child walking away and a great big hat. However, before the woman could continue, the little boy ran to the stool and tried to talk to the woman.
“Do you know where Remus is?” He asked abruptly.
“R-Romulus?” The boy with so many scars whispered from earlier. He could see tears pooling in his eyes, and how his baby brother was beginning to shake. He looked so old, so grown like his Mammy or Daddy, but he had the same eyes, the same amber eyes.
Romulus ran up to the boy, begging to embrace his brother, running with all of his might…
…yet all he could do was run through the boy, and as he looked down, he realized that his skin wasn’t just blue because of the forest, that he was a lot more clear than he used to be…
“What happened?” His little voice wandered aloud into the silent hall. All until violent sobs were torn from Remus’ lips and the young boy fell to the ground, shaking.
“Remus, what happened?” Romulus turned around, his little four-year-old hand trying to touch Remus’s hair. Yet he just fell through the boy, and it felt icky, so bad.
“Young lad, I think you’re one of us.” The voice of the Fat Friar rose as he lightly poked at little Romulus.
“I… I think you died.”