Tag: his past x 5

(Slightest hint of torture. Not super descriptive, but you’ve been warned.)

There was something about moonless nights…something about the way the forest stilled, it’s inhabitants seeking safety from the inky blackness that covered the landscape. Eerie, perhaps…maybe unusual, but not as unusual as the fire burning in the lone, barely standing structure. Beside the fire sat a cloaked figure, idly turning a glass bottle between his hands, its contents almost as dark as the night sky. It was only when the door to the structure cracked open that the hands stopped, setting the bottle off to the side. “You’re late.”

Lugon paused, brushing his hands together, not bothering to close the door behind him. Not like the rickety...

“You can’t just show up like this…what if he had been home?”

“What of it?” A deep chuckle. “He wouldn’t approach me. Bluster and shout, maybe, but actually do anything? No.”

A tired sigh. “Dymere, it’s not funny! You may be able to come and go as you please, but I’m left here. And so are our bo-,” 

The voice trailed off as a little dark-haired boy, no older than one or two, toddled in, clutching a small stuffed tiger. The boy stared up at the stranger before moving to his mother and tightly clinging to her leg. Corviya reached down and scooped the boy up, settling him on her hip. The boy turned to shield his stuffed tiger from the unknown man’s view, his head resting against his mother’s shoulder....

The waves lapping gently against the shore, the sound of a gentle breeze moving through the trees, and the sounds of his two companions playing in the sand just a short distance away, all things that allowed the ranger to relax as he settled back against one of the few trees found along the coast of Eversong. There were no echoes here. No nightmares, no reminders- but it also wasn’t somewhere he could stay forever. The order would come, as it always did, and while he had potions he could utilize to sleep while on Argus, he didn’t want to depend on them. He wanted to move past this…whatever this was. And how could he possibly move forward when there were so many questions that continued to plague him about his past.

He’d...

(Below is the first of what will be several glimpses into Amorthon’s past. He has no memory - currently - of these events.)

It could’ve passed for a picture perfect scene. Two high back chairs a comfortable distance from a cozy fire, the two adults lounging comfortably, one in each chair, skimming through their choice of reading material, oblivious to the nine-year-old and his companion - a small lynx- huddled conspiratorially by the foot of the stairs. Quiet footsteps, a motion for his four-legged friend to follow just like they’d done hundreds of times before. Just a little farther…the boy’s tongue was stuck out in concentration, that floorboard creaks aaand that one doesn’t. Okay, just a liiittle more. Almost...

Dark. Unfamiliar. That was the sight that greeted the young elf. The boy groaned as he sat up slowly, his head pounding. Slowly, he turned glancing around trying to remember…anything. He wasn’t supposed to be here, or that’s what it felt like. It was…there were…others. Family? No…did he have a family? Why was he here? Alone. 

The boy’s breaths started to come in short rapid bursts as he backed up against a nearby tree pulling his knees to his chest, and wrapping his arms around his legs tight as he continued to look around, wide-eyed and panicked. Every noise startled him, every cracked branch, every low crackle. He leaned his head down, trying to stifle his small cries before voices in the distance drew his attention....