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Fantasy Character Castle Chronicles n.1

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  • #124806
    Cathy
    @this-is-not-an-alien

    (No problem, it’s a crazy big amount of information to reply to in just one post XD)
    When Nithel clamped the side of his head to the wall and Alessio’s eyes widened with the effort to keep from laughing as he jumped back. It was…actually exactly the sort of thing Alessio would’ve done when he was a little boy and might have been more likely to do now if his inquisitive nature hadn’t had such bad repercussions at the time.
    “It is the name of Who gave me being.” That…didn’t make any sense to Alessio. Didn’t all fathers do that? Was his father really called Father?
    “The first man who helped me was called Gabrel son of Tasc. His name, and then the name of his father.” I use my mother’s surname instead of my father’s. The Sioan Tribes used their family name as their first name, there was probably some race that used the father’s name as the last name but Alessio didn’t know. “His daughter is called Elia daughter of Gabrel, and his son Corban son of Gabrel. The father’s name is retained, but the mother’s released. For the woman becomes part of her husband, and they are one.”
    That’s about where Nithel lost him. ‘The woman becomes part of her husband’? That sounded like something the outlawed religious minority might teach, that one that was nearly exterminated with the ability-borns. They were all about calling to serve, or love or something… you couldn’t exactly go ask under pain of death. But Alessio didn’t interrupt, Nithel might explain it more…
    “That is why I call myself, Nithel son of Father. It is required to have a second calling in the Ten and required that it be the father.” Nithel said “Does it make sense? I will try again.”
    Alessio hoped he didn’t look pathetically baffled because Nithel was trying harder than anybody else had ever to explain anything to him. Quite frankly Alessio was just so relieved Nithel was still talking to him.
    “So…you don’t know your father’s name but you’re required to have a last name so you call yourself ‘son of Father’?” Alessio attempted slowly. That didn’t sound right. But it seemed like the most reasonable explanation he could glean from it. Nothing here made any sense anyway.

    Don't let the voices in your head drive you insane;only some of them can drive; most are underage

    #124840
    Kimmi
    @kimlikesart

    Nithel pressed his lips together slightly, seeing Alessio’s discomfort. He searches his mind for a dif-

    “So…you don’t know your father’s name,” Nithel’s chest tightened a bit at the question, but his face stayed the same. “but you’re required to have a last name, so you call yourself ‘son of Father’?”

    In all that, Alessio had sifted out his question. In all the side trails I formed none took him away from his purpose. Noy. “I know my father’s name.” Nithel answered, his voice a bit deeper than before, soft, very soft. He sees his father in his eyes, and aches in his chest for him. Nithel’s eyes were low in thought, though his chin remained upright. “I just cannot use it.” He blinked once then his eyes lifted to Alessio.

    _____


    @this-is-not-an-alien

    Jominkreesa

    Passion = A Willingness To Suffer

    #124853
    Cathy
    @this-is-not-an-alien

    Alessio could tell he’d touched a secret, he was uncannily good at doing that accidentally. He tended to latch on to bits of information until the pieces clicked. Maybe that was what got him in so much trouble to begin with, or maybe it just sped up the process.
    “I know my father’s name.” Nithel’s eyes dropped in thought almost a low as his voice. Suddenly Alessio realized that was exactly how he sounded when anyone broached his past, he used the same evasive answers for his own secrets. “I just cannot use it.”
    For a long second Alessio didn’t know how to respond. He didn’t quite know how he’d want someone to respond to his own avoidance of a clear answer, because he desperately wanted someone to help him he just couldn’t trust anyone. It would be nice for someone to know the truth and not try to kill him, or take him back.
    Nithel looked back at him and Alessio felt his own heart rip. Don’t keep pressing, his gaze seemed to say, it’s private. Alessio’s eyes shifted away awkwardly. If his friend wanted to keep it secret it wasn’t any of his business, he’d back off. His gaze retraced its way to Nithel again and he gave a fractional shrug, letting go of the question.
    “I don’t use my father’s name either,” Alessio said, and added after a pause. “I used to use someone else’s name, before I learned he wasn’t my father.”
    This was more information than he was used to giving, it took a conscious effort not to avoid Nithel’s gaze. Just about any question the statement led to brushed on subjects he’d learned never to mention. But, if Alessio had never heard of Lanark he bet Nithel had never heard of Hesgmarde. Most of the names and vague facts probably wouldn’t connect him to any trouble then, probably.

    Alessio filtered through everything Nithel had said again. He’d mentioned ‘The Ten’? But there were Twelve Kingdoms of Casumbra. Maybe it was…Alessio shook the thought off, it’d already been, in theory at least, established that they were from different worlds. That might mean Nithel wouldn’t hate him for being an ability-born…Maybe he could handle explaining if Nithel asked him.

    Don't let the voices in your head drive you insane;only some of them can drive; most are underage

    #124854
    Kimmi
    @kimlikesart

    At Alessio’s small shrug, Nithel relaxed inside. Though, he could feel the secret hurting their possible trust. Alessio deserved a reason for why.

    “I don’t use my father’s name either,” Alessio said, as if trying to offer something of his own in exchange for what Nithel had.

    Nithel smiled wistfully inside, amused, but also thankful. He was a good friend.

    “I used to use someone else’s name, before I learned he wasn’t my father.”

    I’m sorry. Nithel’s eyes showed it. He could feel Alessio retracting. Nithel stared at him, more sorry. Then he glanced away a moment, before looking back to his friend.

    “Do not be sorry for asking.” There was a hesitant smile in Nithel’s voice. “Questions are good.

    A dear lady once told me, after I first mentioned who my father was to her, that I should never tell anyone he was my father again. I have not gone against her word since she spoke it to me. Someday perhaps, but as I’ve grown to know man, I see that she is right.” His eyes are a contented sadness, joy and hope lighting their depths as his love for the youth before him grows.

    He wanted to embrace Alessio, but people were still watching. Instead he placed his left hand gently on Alessio’s right shoulder. Nithel then squeezed some, grip turning firm, trying to meet Alessio’s gaze. His voice was soft, steady. Quick, but measured, each word getting it’s time. “The Lord hold his hand on your head. May you never stop asking questions, but also find peace.

    Your breath is not your own, but his, the one who breathes out the stars, and the one who breathes on, and loves, you. You are not alone. And even when I die, or you are unable to come to my home, his hand will be on your head. It is hard to see, as almost anything atop your head is, but he is real none the less.  The Lord does not abandon his creation. You were created. You have a beautiful purpose. Not all purposes are realized, but I believe yours will be. You are not alone.

    Light still flickers. And it glows the brightest before it goes out.” Nithel’s eyes stay on Alessio’s face, (if his eyes have lifted, he meets them). Nithel’s eyes are calm, and sure. “I am here for you friend. If I ever can do anything. Talk, or listen. I am here. I will never leave you by choice, and whatever you tell me shall be locked in a bond. You are my friend, and I storge you. And by the Lord’s hand, I will always agape you.”

    _____________


    @rusted-knight
    @this-is-not-an-alien @joelle-stone @anne_the_noob14 @skylarynn @sylvain-alistair

    Jominkreesa

    Passion = A Willingness To Suffer

    #124891
    Skylarynn
    @skylarynn

    While the others conversed in muted tones Brendin had wearily sat down against the wall, appreciating the cool touch of the stone.  He hadn’t felt cold in a long time.  It was cold at Ironstorm, where he’d lived before everything had happened, and he missed it.  Quietly he observed the lengthy exchange between Alessio and Nithel and was once again reminded of himself by the youth.  He seemed to believe that no one loved or cared about him.

    But he’s done nothing to deserve such neglect, Brendin thought.  He hasn’t caused untold slaughter with a wave of his hand.  And he’s afraid of his fire.

    Brendin had sensed when the boy conjured his flames, and noticed him trying to hide it in his robes.  He must not have had anyone to teach him…

    Brendin closed his eyes and leaned his head against the stone behind him, trying to recall an image in his mind.  Everything was still a blurry haze.  His actions as a Maere blurred and mixed together, and memories of before were fragments, out of focus.

    After a minute of trying Brendin opened his eyes again and sighed resignedly at the ceiling.  He could not remember his mother’s face.

    A sudden outburst from the lad brought Brendin’s attention back to Alessio and Nithel.  Nithel had his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

     “I thought no one kept the old legends anymore, but no one else believes in a loving Deity. Why haven’t you rebuilt the Temple? Where are the chosens now? I…”

    It sounded vaguely like the beliefs of the Eya, from what Brendin recalled of them.  Maeres believed in no such things except their master, and he could not remember theological debate being prevalent in Ironstorm.  He supposed keeping the wyverns from crossing the Ridge had superceded that concern.

    “Are you talking about the High One?” Brendin asked Nithel.  Like Alessio he was curious about an entity who never ceased to love.  Perhaps he could forgive Brendin, if anyone could after what he’d done.


    @kimlikesart


    @this-is-not-an-alien

    • This reply was modified 1 week, 6 days ago by Skylarynn.

    "Remember, you go nowhere by accident. Wherever you go, God is sending you." - Rev. Peter R. Hale

    #124893
    Kimmi
    @kimlikesart

    “What was that?” Alessio asked, face stunned completely.

    What was he talking about? The words I spoke? But the youth was already barreling on.

    “Where did you learn about the old religion? What can you tell me about it?” Alessio shook his head, trying to clear his mind. “I thought no one kept the old legends anymore, but no one else believes in a loving Deity. Why haven’t you rebuilt the Temple? Where are the chosens now? I…” He stalled suddenly, out of breath, staring up at Nithel warily.

    The boy then blushed, his eyes twinkling a moment.

    He wanted to hear. He didn’t know. Nithel’s chest lifted, ached, and jumped with joy all at once.

    “Are you talking about the High One?”

    The question caught Nithel off-guard, and he glanced toward the man. Brendin. He sat up a bit, his eyes on Alessio and Nithel.

    The High One, a good name for the Holy One. Nithel nodded slowly, eyes steady, but peaceful. He moved his feet to where one was facing Alessio, and the other Brendin, going back over Alessio’s questions in his mind.

    His eyes mostly looked to Alessio, but his chest faced Brendin. “What was it? A blessing, an admonition, and a proverb. ‘Blessings should not be withholden from the worthy.'” Nithel’s eyes ached some, voice a bit softer, and semi-wishing Brendin wasn’t listening. “You are worthy my friend.” He glanced from Alessio to Brendin, then back again. His gaze drifting from each man when it was prudent.

    Where did I learn these things? A hard question, but not completely new. It was hard to stay completely truthful here, without going against the words of the same ‘dear lady’. “Where have I learned of the Holy One?” In all creation, in the grass, in the trees, in the stars who sing His praises, from the Lord Himself… but, that was not what they should hear. He looked up. “I had a mentor, Jacine. An honest being, patient, he served the Lord and man. Never a backward step. He taught me of the Holy One, and of man. He taught me of the Highest One’s love, and compassion, but also His justice.

    The Holy One is good and kind. But also true, and good. I have seen the evidence in my own life, time and again.” His eyes touch memories as a stabbing ache tears his chest, memories… His eyes come back to the men looking at him a second later. “Few do believe in Him, and fewer still follow Him, and yet fewer still love Him in return. But He is good, He lifts the repentant heart, and lowers those who will not lower themselves, and makes a way for all who seek Him to find.

    As for what I can tell, if you ask a question, I likely can answer, but if I cannot, I will find it. Please, ask.”

    But Alessio’s question of a temple. Temple? What temple? Was that not what the Bekh states built for their gods? But, perhaps the people built such for the Star Breather, in a place Nithel had not heard of. “I did not know He had a temple. But I have not been out of the Ten more than once, and that was only to Chesed.” As for those chosen… Nithel became more bewildered. “We come from different places, different worlds… But the Creator is the Creator of all. He would be the true Deity in any realm or creation.” Nithel’s eyes again cast from Brendin to Alessio, hoping it made some sense.

    ______


    @rusted-knight
    @this-is-not-an-alien @joelle-stone @anne_the_noob14 @skylarynn @sylvain-alistair

    Jominkreesa

    Passion = A Willingness To Suffer

    #124961
    Cathy
    @this-is-not-an-alien

    “Are you talking about the High One?” Alessio flinched at the sudden voice. Have you been spying this whole time?! In all fairness ‘spying’ was a rather strong word considering not much else was physically possible in this breathing space. Brendin straightened a little against the stone wall, watching with interest and perhaps almost a fragment of hope. Alessio bit the urge to shrink staring at the man who could wield fire so naturally with pure admiration. In a second he ducked his gaze back to Nithel who nodded slowly in answer to Brendin’s question. He still wished Brendin hadn’t been listening in but probably everyone was, leaving Alessio to be completely mortified for no good reason at all.
    “What was it? A blessing, an admonition, and a proverb. ‘Blessings should not be withholden from the worthy.’ You are worthy my friend.” Nithel said, more gently and unyieldingly than anyone had ever spoken to him. You don’t even know what I’ve done..What the wizard tricked him into.
    “Where have I learned of the Holy One?” Nithel paused, and when he answered Alessio knew he was holding something back. “I had a mentor, Jacine. An honest being, patient, he served the Lord and man. Never a backward step. He taught me of the Highest One’s love, and compassion, but also His justice.”
    Alessio felt an uneasy twist in his gut at the word ‘justice’. It had been misused around him so long he wasn’t sure that justice wasn’t there to punish every kind of crime indiscriminately. And he wasn’t sure what an all-knowing Being would think about…
    “The Holy One is good and kind. But also true, and good. I have seen the evidence in my own life, time and again.” Nithel paused, painfully. What’s wrong? Alessio sifted through everything as if he might have missed something but he already knew it was unspoken memory and didn’t say anything, his gaze on Nithel reflecting his friend’s emotions.
    “Few do believe in Him, and fewer still follow Him, and yet fewer still love Him in return. But He is good, He lifts the repentant heart, and lowers those who will not lower themselves, and makes a way for all who seek Him to find.” he said “As for what I can tell, if you ask a question, I likely can answer, but if I cannot, I will find it. Please, ask”
    But I don’t even know enough to begin…
    “I did not know He had a temple. But I have not been out of the Ten more than once, and that was only to Chesed. We come from different places, different worlds…But the Creator is the Creator of all. He would be the true Deity in any realm or creation.”
    The true Deity. Nithel confirmed his belief that God was loving, and just. Alessio begged for help, did everything he could to get out under the circumstances, he prayed. Everything. Was he not worth it? Was it his fault? Perhaps he was the villain.
    Nithel said to ask questions. Alessio eyes dropped to the floor, trying to grasp the idea, turn it into a question.
    “When does doing what it takes to survive become a sin?” Alessio’s eyes slid back to Nithel. Maybe he asked for it, maybe it was his fault.

    Don't let the voices in your head drive you insane;only some of them can drive; most are underage

    #125068
    Kimmi
    @kimlikesart

    Alessio seemed lost in thought, a bit of pain, fear… but also a small steady confidence… like a great question was just answered, but it dislodged a million more.

    Alessio’s head lowered a moment, then his eyes came up timidly to meet Nithel’s. “When does doing what it takes to survive become a sin?”

    Nithel’s head straightened a moment, Deep questions suddenly, and truly... Self-preservation at the cost of others is never alright. But killing someone, to save a greater number of others, is allowed. Sadness touched Nithel’s eyes, memories of his own life. But also the depth of this question, coming from one so young. Alessio had had too much pain. Perhaps had caused too much pain, and he regretted it. Or, was asking if he should.

    “Whenever it harms more than it helps,” Nithel says softly, quietly, almost to himself. All his words are still measured, but not slow. He looks up, trying to meet Alessio’s eyes, then asks, also quietly, more to know Alessio’s frame of mind, “What is the purpose of surviving?”

    ______


    @rusted-knight
    @this-is-not-an-alien @joelle-stone @anne_the_noob14 @skylarynn @sylvain-alistair

    Jominkreesa

    Passion = A Willingness To Suffer

    #125089
    Cathy
    @this-is-not-an-alien

    “Whenever it harms more than it helps,” Intentionally or accidentally? Manipulation was never acceptable…? Alessio had been around so many people so well versed in the fine art of manipulation he couldn’t tell anymore what it was anymore. It wasn’t the big things it was all the small things he consented to that made him wonder if he’d asked for it. ‘Harms more than helps’ for his situation that was a lot of gray area there.
    Nithel stares into his eyes as if trying to read them. It’s not a matter of what he did objectively so much. It was something most people didn’t understand, especially the good ones. That the monsters were human and if you could identify with them you know they believe every lie they tell and every action they believe it’s for good. How do you know you’re not one of them? When you grow up with villains it’s a matter of how deeply your mind is raped by their projected images of you, by the only examples you had, by finding you imitate their mannerisms when you’re too upset to think, by catching every so often an edge of manipulation in your voice when you’re too desperate to handle it. And it wasn’t something you could explain to someone who wasn’t there.
    “What is the purpose of surviving?”
    “To love,” Alessio answered without thinking “it’s the only thing any god would have to gain by giving humans free-will…”
    He faded off, fairly certain that wasn’t what Nithel was getting at or that at least it wasn’t the answer Alessio needed himself. With single-minded devotion he had fought to find a way back to his family even though they didn’t care about him except perhaps his brother. That was what kept him surviving that year. His entire life surviving for someone else. But he had no one left and he didn’t think anything would be lost if he died. So what was the purpose of surviving?
    Alessio dodged Nithel’s gaze, instinctively touching the white scar tissue around his wrist. He wasn’t ready to go there.
    “What purpose keeps you alive?” He asked instead, wishing the conversation was over, he couldn’t take anymore of this. Something else, this was already more than he’d opened up to anyone since…

    Don't let the voices in your head drive you insane;only some of them can drive; most are underage

    #125090
    Rusted Knight
    @rusted-knight

    Isaac listened to the conversation between Alessio and Nithel. It reminded him of his own journey. His youth had been rather secular. At first he had been too young to understand and by the time he was old enough, he lacked the teachers to properly tell him about God. To him God had been just a ultra powerful, one of a kind being watching from everyone from some place.

    Then his parents had died and he had used the time machine. After that Isaac had become more distant from faith. If God was loving, why did war exist? Why had his parents died? The first rekindling had come when he joined the Edelweiss Pirates. The allure of disobeying the Nazis had pulled him in. The priests who had spoken to the pirates had got him to begin to rethink his views. God did love us but we had failed to obey him. He could not force us for he had created us with free will. We freely chose to disobey him and so freely chose to be punished for it.

    When Isaac had been captured by the Gestapo, the spark of faith had been nearly snuffed out. In his pain, Isaac could only see destroying the Nazis and Communist as important. God wouldn’t intervene so he would. That obsession drove him to kill again and again. As the body count rose, Isaac had continued to avoid faith. Only the good went to Heaven. A man with as much blood on his hands as him couldn’t enter. Why should he look at a prize he could not win?

    In the depths of that dark hole, two little children had opened the path. A simple mission that had been complicated. Two days with them and later the priest had opened his eyes. Killing was wrong but so was letting evil continue. Eliminated only the evil, causing as little harm to the innocent was the path he had to walk. Isaac had been called to serve as a spy. Why he could not say or probably ever know on this side of the grave.

    “What purpose keeps you alive?”

    Such a simple question. One that Isaac had to discover. Why had he lived where he had seen to many die? Why did he continue to live after so many battles? What was he destined for? An idea popped into his head and Isaac spoke it before thinking.

    “I live to protect those who have yet to smile.”

    The Devil saw me with my head down and got excited. Then I said Amen

    #125108
    Livi Ryddle
    @anne_the_noob14

    Vulferym’s lip curled in disgust. He looked at the group who had just elected the man called Isaac to be their leader. They were talking about something that was irrelevant and unrelated to anything. It was all related to their pasts. At least, he thought so. He really wasn’t paying attention to it. His gaze was trained on Isaac. The man who had stolen the spotlight and the attention of everyone.

    As if feeling eyes on him, Isaac turned and locked eyes with Vulferym. Vulferym couldn’t read any emotion in Isaac’s eyes, and that disarmed him. But he held his gaze steady, trying his best to not let the anger show. Yet he knew Isaac had seen it.

    Time to bring the attention back where it belongs, he thought. He opened his arms wide and let a smile crack across his face.

    “Please, let us not ignore the dragon in the room.”

    His joke fell short. No one laughed. Gritting his teeth, he continued.

    “This is no time to be telling stories. If indeed my uncle keeps dragons, and one escaped his cage, we must do something. Not stand around in idle prattling.”

    ______

    Sorry it was short! And sorry for disappearing! Things have been crazy. Good, but crazy.

    Also sorry if I wasn’t completely accurate with things lol. I kinda skimmed through so I’d have an idea of what was going on but I didn’t read all the details.

    “Enough! Be quiet! I can’t hear myself think! I can’t hear my teeth chatter!"

    #125163
    Cathy
    @this-is-not-an-alien

    “I live to protect those who have yet to smile.” Alessio mentally started at Isaac’s sudden words. Not just his words but it was the first time Isaac said anything not confined to their survival, the first glimpse into his character. That, and Alessio hadn’t forgotten he’d already challenged the man’s authority. So why…?
    “Please, let us not ignore the dragon in the room.” Vulferym’s voice cut into his thoughts and Alessio’s eyes skated ironically to the villain a second and back at Isaac.
    ‘ I live to protect those who have yet to smile.’ Fake smiles didn’t count…Alessio could sense the statement was directed at him and he didn’t know how to respond. He missed his brother, something about Isaac’s normally closed-off air reminded him of Leander.
    “This is no time to be telling stories. If indeed my uncle keeps dragons, and one escaped his cage, we must do something. Not stand around in idle prattling.”
    Almost without thinking Alessio glanced back at Isaac, completely deadpan.
    “You live to protect him?” He said giving Vulferym a blatantly unimpressed look. Technically speaking Vulferym did have yet to smile a genuine smile. And there was no chance of Alessio opening up while he was in hearing range. Besides which Lord Gorgeous-Hands did have a point much as he hated to admit it. Alessio waited for Isaac to issue their next orders.

    Don't let the voices in your head drive you insane;only some of them can drive; most are underage

    #125171
    Rusted Knight
    @rusted-knight

    “Please, let us not ignore the dragon in the room. This is no time to be telling stories. If indeed my uncle keeps dragons, and one escaped his cage, we must do something. Not stand around in idle prattling.” said Vulferym.

    Why did this guy have to be like this.

    “You live to protect him?” said Alessio.

    “I don’t like it any better than you. I killed a couple of guys like him before. But at times they smile and some people get along with them… somehow.”

    But the man had made his point. Leading the group forward, Isaac opened a door. On the other side was a pantry. Clay jars stood on the floor while shelves held dried goods.

    “Grab only what can can be eaten raw.”

    The Devil saw me with my head down and got excited. Then I said Amen

    #125253
    Cathy
    @this-is-not-an-alien

    “I don’t like it any better than you.” Isaac said “I killed a couple guys like him before.”
    I’m sorry, what? Well it was during a war, at least in his world. It would make sense if Isaac were an assassin or guild leader and spy.
    “But at times they smile and some people get along with them…somehow.” Alessio made a face in response to the idea. Vulferym wasn’t nearly as subtle as half the narcissists he knew, and he was probably entitled or something so he could afford to be like that. Isaac cracked open a door at the end of the hall making dusky light bar across the wall for a second.
    “Grab only what can be eaten raw.” Isaac called from the other room. Alessio hastened to follow, warily checking the room before he entered. For a second he glanced back at Vulferym, who was already rather outcast from the group. What made a person like that? He didn’t mean to but he felt sorry for the man despite himself. Someone had to be broken to be that desperate for attention.
    It was a little brighter in the next room, with more natural like from a couple oil lamps, still far too enclosed for Alessio, who still hovered close to Nithel. He tenitively poked into a couple clay jars and found some stale cakes he couldn’t identify as anything from his world. Trying to hide it, he devoured several of cakes, too embarrassed to admit it’d been several days since he’d had a solid meal. Mostly everyone else was busy packing supplies too, Alessio wasn’t sure how he’d carrying much, his pack and canteen had been stolen much earlier by some of the traveling striders he’d fallen in with.
    Turning open a cabinet Alessio found an odd box wrapped in a red ribbon, layered with dust. Curious, he grasped the little parcel and tilted it over some. The ribbon didn’t keep it closed it was just for decoration and that didn’t make any sense to Alessio. He blew the dust off the top too enthusiastically and sneezed thick particles of dirt. Rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand Alessio gingerly lifted the lid, almost surprised that nothing immediately jumped out of it and attacked him.
    Instead there were odd dark brown lumps nestled inside. The lid said ‘chocolates’ whatever that’s supposed to be. How bad could they be? Warily Alessio took a small bite, and his eyes widened. He had never. In his life. Tasted something so good! It was incredible! It had to be enchanted or something, like fae wafers. It wasn’t possible for something to be that sweet! Disbelievingly, Alessio took another bite, amazed by the sticky, savory flavor. Something like this had to be worth more than gold…
    “Look!” Alessio stifled his voice enough to almost speak in a whisper glancing around for Nithel excitedly. “What kind of thing is this? Does it exist in your world?”
    He flushed, trying not to cause a scene, a delighted twinkle in his eyes.

    Don't let the voices in your head drive you insane;only some of them can drive; most are underage

    #125254
    Kimmi
    @kimlikesart

    “To love,” Alessio answered without thinking “it’s the only thing any god would have to gain by giving humans free-will…”

    So your mind believes that to be true. But, how do you live? What is your personal purpose in surviving? And the way you survive, are you loving others in doing so?

    But Alessio was moving on. He didn’t like questions being posed to him. Nithel’s eyes were serious, and he kept them on the youth. Alessio looked away, hand moving to his wrist.

    Nithel glanced down, and saw a white strip of pain… a scar.

    His eyes filled with sadness, and that fire in him before grows. One must punish those who harmed you. How many others have they cut?

    But Alessio dodged, asking his own question instead. “What purpose keeps you alive?”

    He was done. Afraid. Nithel wouldn’t press too hard. This was already much for him, it would seem. But my purpose? To live as if I am already dead, and all the lives around me are precious and worth more than the stars.

    Then another voice spoke into the conversation. Calm, firm, but searching. “I live to protect those who have yet to smile.”

    Nithel glanced toward Isaac. More thoughts washing over him as he saw the man’s face. 

    Then another voice. Nithel swung around, a bit startled to see the swine’s son. “Please, let us not ignore the dragon in the room.”

    He still didn’t understand much humour, but the way the man said it, led him to think it was. Was there supposed to be something funny about that? Perhaps.

    The man’s eyes turned into a dark wildness, gritting his teeth. “This is no time to be telling stories. If indeed my uncle keeps dragons, and one escaped his cage, we must do something. Not stand around in idle prattling.”

    Idle? And a trail of thoughts touched him.

    Alessio then spoke, looking toward Isaac with a prodding and surprised tone. “You live to protect him?”

    “I don’t like it any better than you.” Isaac’s answer was quick but measured. “I killed a couple guys like him before.”

    Oh. Nithel straightened a bit.

    “But at times they smile and some people get along with them…somehow.”

    Oh…. Nithel said nothing, willing to be used and to set his hands to whatever Isaac told him to. Because he was their leader, and to be respected just because of that. Not out of fear.

    Isaac then began to walk toward a door Nithel hadn’t seen before. Where did it come from?

    Their leader opened the apparition and entered, some new light entering the glowing room. “Grab only what can be eaten raw.” Isaac called from inside.

    So, it was real.

    Alessio was already moving that way, and Nithel followed. The youth darted into the room, and Nithel followed, poking his head in first, then slipping in completely.

    Pots. Many, many pots with lids covered the floor. Fire was lit in smaller jars along the wall. According to Isaac, the pots on the ground were full of food.

    He glanced toward the man, seeing a way he could possibly serve. He stepped toward the Isaac, not too close, as Alessio rummaged through pots. Then Nithel straightened, meeting Isaac’s eyes, but keeping his form submissive. “If there is a way I can hold things, I can carry them for us.” Then, after the slightest hesitation, “I am strong.” It would make my presence worth something to this group. I don’t want to be useless.

    And I’m not strong as you, His thoughts rushed on, I don’t think; I mean to be no threat. 

    Alessio then sneezed, and Nithel glanced toward him. He was lifting a lid off a jar, and Nithel looked back to Isaac, waiting for an order or release.

    A few seconds later Alessio cried out. “Look!”

    Nithel’s gaze again jumped to the youth.

    “What kind of thing is this? Does it exist in your world?”

    Nithel smiled softly toward Alessio.

    He flushed, trying not to cause a scene, a delighted twinkle in his eyes.

    That touched Nithel even more deeply.

    __________


    @rusted-knight
    @this-is-not-an-alien @joelle-stone @anne_the_noob14 @skylarynn @sylvain-alistair

    • This reply was modified 5 days, 8 hours ago by Kimmi.

    Jominkreesa

    Passion = A Willingness To Suffer

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