Kassite

The child was glued to his sister--the two lived like lungs to the same body. Eyes to the same sightless gaze.
Their mother was sweet, and entirely unlike her offspring. Her brief encounter with nothing less than a deity had flashed like lightning in the night, and blessed her with children disconnected and cursed. She often watched her offspring from afar--her questions surrounding them feeding into questions surrounding their sire.
She wondered if they were touched by something higher than the plane they occupied. She dared not think too deeply on the subject when they were close. Though she would never admit it, she'd grown to fear the possibility that they might see into her mind.

Her son often turned to her, his sister unmoving, unconcerned or uninterested--or perhaps elsewhere entirely in mind. His expression unsettled her deeply. While his sister watched others like she admired her perceived seat above mortality, her son stared with the slightest hint of despair--without words or gestures, she felt he was begging to be released from some crippling weight. She felt he begged her for death, or something more.
She did not love her children--she felt like she watched them as a shaman does a new patient.

Her son was some experiment--his name was Kassite.