Somewhere Near Vel Stratholm
Edric stood in the small field, his eyes set on the farmhouse which lay just beyond the expanse of the green surrounding him. Wind gently brushed over the grass, sending wave like ripples through every blade. He frowned for a brief moment, remembering the Archon's words.
This is your choice, Edric. For many of us, the truth of where we are from is not pleasant. Most Dreadlords will go their entire lives without knowing their parents, and I would say they are better off for it. The man had paused, staring at him as though he were some lost puppy laying on the street. Edric had practically felt the pity hanging in the air. But in the end, we all have the right to know.
It was the last thing the man had said to him before he slipped the small piece of paper across the table. The piece of knowledge that Edric had asked for. A way to learn about his past, what he was and where he came from. A scrap of knowledge that might give him a clue about his parents and their fate, about what...what had made him the way he was.
Why he carried the curse that he did.
The answer might be in the farmhouse just across the glade.
Edric had thought about writing Ralene, or even Noel. Asking them to come with him, to help him carry the burden. Yet he had denied himself that comfort, knowing it would place either of them in danger. He was a criminal now, a fact which no one in the Republic could deny. Making them choose would have put them in an impossible position. It was better that he go alone.
Slowly he took in a breath, watching the farmhouse for a few more moments. Smoke rose from it's chimney, and chickens quietly picked at the ground just within the fence. With careful, weary steps Edric began to walk towards the unassuming building, his mind running more and more wild with every step. Recounting what he might say, what he could have to offer. Anxiety curled within his chest, slowly branching out like a spider building it's web. Clutching at his heart as he finally reached the front door.
His fingers tightened at his side, and for a moment he found himself hesitating. Slowly Edric reached out, stopping just short, and then finally knocking on the door.
Three loud thuds echoed out as his knuckles struck the ancient bent wood. The sound echoing out and calling to those who lay within. He heard the small cry of an old woman, her voice shrieking out in surprise. She called to him, beckoning his silence as she demanded he wait. "Coming! Coming!"
Her shrill voice called.
"My old bones don't move as well as they used to." She said as the lock beyond the door began to rattle, it's metal shifting as the door pulled open in front of Edric. "Takes me a bit to g-Oh."
Before him stood a gnarled old woman. Her form shriveled and half twisted in upon herself. The clothes she wore denoted no wealth, though all of them were well made. Her face was one of kindness, and the looked up at Edric with a mixture of surprise and recognition. Her entire form frozen in the doorway as she stared up at him.
For a moment silence reigned between the two of them, then, slowly she reached up to touch his face. With ancient gnarled figures the old woman grasped Edric's cheeks, touching his features as though she didn't quite believe that he was real at all. "Oh it is you. I would recognize those eyes anywhere."
The moment she spoke, Edric felt his heart catch in his throat. Chest tightening, and the thundering beat of his heart somehow echoing louder than ever before. He slowly reached up, his hands enveloping the old woman's. She felt fragile within his palms, as though he could break her without a second thought. A slow breath filled his lungs, and his head dipped in a nod.
"I was..." Edric began slowly, his voice soft. "I was hoping you could tell me about my Family."
He thought at first the woman was about to deny him, her head slowly shaking, despair flickering over her features. She looked as though she would never speak again, but then slowly her fingers withdrew from his. A long sigh drew from her lips, and gently she motioned for Edric to step inside, the sound of her voice soft and gentle. Somehow more caring than any other he had ever heard before. "I didn't...I didn't think I'd ever get to see you again."
The old woman said as she set about the small cabin, ushering Edric to an ancient and old chair. A single cushion placed upon the carved wood.
He tried to stop her, get to her to sit, but before he could speak or direct her any further the old woman already set to work. She shuffled through the farmhouse, grasping a kettle and two cups, moving to make tea before she ever offered. Continuing instead with fulfilling Edric's request, as though it were the very purpose of her life.
"We don't often see those who get taken, you understand." The Old woman said. "My grandson was taken, and well, even with the New Republic we haven't heard anything. We know it's for Vel Anir, that it's just, but...it doesn't make it easier. So you can imagine I would be shocked when-"
The old woman stopped, her head shaking. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, you're not here to hear that. You came to learn about your family."
She slowed for a moment, looking down at the Kettle in her hand and gently placing it down upon the stove. For a second she remained there, staring at the flickering flames, then slowly she turned and shuffled back towards Edric. Slowly she slipped into the chair opposite him, extending her gnarled fingers and reaching out to once again clasp her hand.
"What were they like?" Edric asked softly, the innate curiosity of a lost boy clinging to his tongue.
"Your father was a good man, but a hard man. He suffered few fools, but was...he was a loyal man. To a fault." She looked sad for a second, but then continued. "Your mother...your mother was a remarkable woman. She believed deeply in the faith, and loved her children beyond measure."
Edric listened to the words, smiling softly, but couldn't help himself from noticing in the way the old woman spoke. All in the past tense, as though both his mother and father were gone. He had already known it, in a way, Ralene had found out, but a part of him hadn't believed. Hadn't quite been able to accept it all. Not until now.
The old woman saw his expression, squeezing his palms. "They were good folk. They didn't want to give you up you know, your mother especially. She fought, but..."
Her smile faltered.
"With your gifts, they didn't know what else to do." Edric felt pain like never before, a twisting in his gut. Wrenching at his very heart. The thought that he had been wanted never occurred to him. The idea that his family hadn't given him up had never even once been considered. His entire life he'd thought himself a plague, a broken menace. Something that dragged and tore at life.
That was who Edric was. A constant threat. Walking entropy. "They..."
He choked. "They didn't want to give me away?"
The words barely managed to spill from his lips. Fingers drawing away from the old woman's hand. Finding purchase beneath the table and digging roughly into his knees. Pressing hard enough that he shook ever so slightly, breath catching in his throat. The old woman before him seemed unaware, or ignored it entirely.
"Of course not, dearie." She said with a smile. "You were your mothers miracle."
Confusion flickered over Edric's face, clearly not understanding. "What...what do you mean?"
Another wave of softness drew over the woman's features, the pity in her tone clear as she began to speak once more. A certain level of pain touching her tone as though she regretted not being able to tell Edric earlier.
"Your mother suffered a terrible birth." The old woman said, and something seemed to pull at Edric's mind. It was not the words themselves that plucked at his memories, but something else. Lips thinned as his host continued to explain herself, every passing syllable seeming to pull him further into the webs of the past. "A day, maybe more, until finally you were came free."
The softness in her tone turned to sadness for a brief moment. "Stillborn."
As soon as she spoke the word, something seemed to snap in the back of Edric's mind. For a second, the briefest passing second, he was no longer sitting in the small farmhouse outside Vel Stratholm. He was nowhere at all. Instead he stood in a field of nothing, a vast emptiness that now was more than familiar to him, but back then had been nothing at all.
He saw a woman dressed in pure white, her form glowing with an ethereal beauty. Behind her stood a massive gate, it's huge stone doors standing open, each decorated with a scrawl that no human could understand. Edric watched as the woman bent down, her arms pulling from the heavy white cloak around her form. Delicately she grabbed a child which lay upon the ground, her face obscured as she softly plucked it into her grasp.
The baby made not a single sound as she swaddled it within her arms, her voice echoing within the world around them. Oh, my dearest child. You never once had a chance.
Her voice carried like a song, ringing out longer than it should have as Edric watched her stand. Slowly she turned, her figure striding back towards the great stone gates. She walked with an elegance that he could barely comprehend, more floating through the air than striding.
"And then." The old woman's voice rang out from behind him somewhere. "You took a breath."
Edric watched as the woman in white turned. Watched as the hood flickered back over her shoulders, as her face and the utter panic upon it was revealed. A hand reaching out as the great stone gates began to close, her voice echoing out in a shout of pure panic as she and the child she had been carrying was suddenly locked away. The gates shutting before she could turn back.
His mind suddenly snapped back, eyes blinking as he found himself once more sitting in the little farmhouse. The old woman before him smiling wide as she continued to tell her happy little tale. "I had thought...we had all thought you gone. Your mother...poor thing, she had asked for the Lector to have you blessed. To ensure Anirius and the saints would watch over you."
She smiled sadly again. "Then you breathed."
The old woman said softly.
"A glorious breath, that seemed nothing less than a miracle." Her smile became a bit wider. "For your mother it was nothing less than that, for your father too. They saw you as nothing less. Even after-"
Her words came to a stop as Edric suddenly stood, the chair creaking as it half fell back. For a brief moment fear flickered over the old woman's features, as if she wasn't quite sure what was about to happen. Gnarled old fingers curling on the tabletop as though she were preparing for some ill-fate. Then suddenly Edric leaned down.
His arms wrapped around the old midwife, his chest rising and falling in a quiet and steady cry.
Edric stood in the small field, his eyes set on the farmhouse which lay just beyond the expanse of the green surrounding him. Wind gently brushed over the grass, sending wave like ripples through every blade. He frowned for a brief moment, remembering the Archon's words.
This is your choice, Edric. For many of us, the truth of where we are from is not pleasant. Most Dreadlords will go their entire lives without knowing their parents, and I would say they are better off for it. The man had paused, staring at him as though he were some lost puppy laying on the street. Edric had practically felt the pity hanging in the air. But in the end, we all have the right to know.
It was the last thing the man had said to him before he slipped the small piece of paper across the table. The piece of knowledge that Edric had asked for. A way to learn about his past, what he was and where he came from. A scrap of knowledge that might give him a clue about his parents and their fate, about what...what had made him the way he was.
Why he carried the curse that he did.
The answer might be in the farmhouse just across the glade.
Edric had thought about writing Ralene, or even Noel. Asking them to come with him, to help him carry the burden. Yet he had denied himself that comfort, knowing it would place either of them in danger. He was a criminal now, a fact which no one in the Republic could deny. Making them choose would have put them in an impossible position. It was better that he go alone.
Slowly he took in a breath, watching the farmhouse for a few more moments. Smoke rose from it's chimney, and chickens quietly picked at the ground just within the fence. With careful, weary steps Edric began to walk towards the unassuming building, his mind running more and more wild with every step. Recounting what he might say, what he could have to offer. Anxiety curled within his chest, slowly branching out like a spider building it's web. Clutching at his heart as he finally reached the front door.
His fingers tightened at his side, and for a moment he found himself hesitating. Slowly Edric reached out, stopping just short, and then finally knocking on the door.
Three loud thuds echoed out as his knuckles struck the ancient bent wood. The sound echoing out and calling to those who lay within. He heard the small cry of an old woman, her voice shrieking out in surprise. She called to him, beckoning his silence as she demanded he wait. "Coming! Coming!"
Her shrill voice called.
"My old bones don't move as well as they used to." She said as the lock beyond the door began to rattle, it's metal shifting as the door pulled open in front of Edric. "Takes me a bit to g-Oh."
Before him stood a gnarled old woman. Her form shriveled and half twisted in upon herself. The clothes she wore denoted no wealth, though all of them were well made. Her face was one of kindness, and the looked up at Edric with a mixture of surprise and recognition. Her entire form frozen in the doorway as she stared up at him.
For a moment silence reigned between the two of them, then, slowly she reached up to touch his face. With ancient gnarled figures the old woman grasped Edric's cheeks, touching his features as though she didn't quite believe that he was real at all. "Oh it is you. I would recognize those eyes anywhere."
The moment she spoke, Edric felt his heart catch in his throat. Chest tightening, and the thundering beat of his heart somehow echoing louder than ever before. He slowly reached up, his hands enveloping the old woman's. She felt fragile within his palms, as though he could break her without a second thought. A slow breath filled his lungs, and his head dipped in a nod.
"I was..." Edric began slowly, his voice soft. "I was hoping you could tell me about my Family."
He thought at first the woman was about to deny him, her head slowly shaking, despair flickering over her features. She looked as though she would never speak again, but then slowly her fingers withdrew from his. A long sigh drew from her lips, and gently she motioned for Edric to step inside, the sound of her voice soft and gentle. Somehow more caring than any other he had ever heard before. "I didn't...I didn't think I'd ever get to see you again."
The old woman said as she set about the small cabin, ushering Edric to an ancient and old chair. A single cushion placed upon the carved wood.
He tried to stop her, get to her to sit, but before he could speak or direct her any further the old woman already set to work. She shuffled through the farmhouse, grasping a kettle and two cups, moving to make tea before she ever offered. Continuing instead with fulfilling Edric's request, as though it were the very purpose of her life.
"We don't often see those who get taken, you understand." The Old woman said. "My grandson was taken, and well, even with the New Republic we haven't heard anything. We know it's for Vel Anir, that it's just, but...it doesn't make it easier. So you can imagine I would be shocked when-"
The old woman stopped, her head shaking. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, you're not here to hear that. You came to learn about your family."
She slowed for a moment, looking down at the Kettle in her hand and gently placing it down upon the stove. For a second she remained there, staring at the flickering flames, then slowly she turned and shuffled back towards Edric. Slowly she slipped into the chair opposite him, extending her gnarled fingers and reaching out to once again clasp her hand.
"What were they like?" Edric asked softly, the innate curiosity of a lost boy clinging to his tongue.
"Your father was a good man, but a hard man. He suffered few fools, but was...he was a loyal man. To a fault." She looked sad for a second, but then continued. "Your mother...your mother was a remarkable woman. She believed deeply in the faith, and loved her children beyond measure."
Edric listened to the words, smiling softly, but couldn't help himself from noticing in the way the old woman spoke. All in the past tense, as though both his mother and father were gone. He had already known it, in a way, Ralene had found out, but a part of him hadn't believed. Hadn't quite been able to accept it all. Not until now.
The old woman saw his expression, squeezing his palms. "They were good folk. They didn't want to give you up you know, your mother especially. She fought, but..."
Her smile faltered.
"With your gifts, they didn't know what else to do." Edric felt pain like never before, a twisting in his gut. Wrenching at his very heart. The thought that he had been wanted never occurred to him. The idea that his family hadn't given him up had never even once been considered. His entire life he'd thought himself a plague, a broken menace. Something that dragged and tore at life.
That was who Edric was. A constant threat. Walking entropy. "They..."
He choked. "They didn't want to give me away?"
The words barely managed to spill from his lips. Fingers drawing away from the old woman's hand. Finding purchase beneath the table and digging roughly into his knees. Pressing hard enough that he shook ever so slightly, breath catching in his throat. The old woman before him seemed unaware, or ignored it entirely.
"Of course not, dearie." She said with a smile. "You were your mothers miracle."
Confusion flickered over Edric's face, clearly not understanding. "What...what do you mean?"
Another wave of softness drew over the woman's features, the pity in her tone clear as she began to speak once more. A certain level of pain touching her tone as though she regretted not being able to tell Edric earlier.
"Your mother suffered a terrible birth." The old woman said, and something seemed to pull at Edric's mind. It was not the words themselves that plucked at his memories, but something else. Lips thinned as his host continued to explain herself, every passing syllable seeming to pull him further into the webs of the past. "A day, maybe more, until finally you were came free."
The softness in her tone turned to sadness for a brief moment. "Stillborn."
As soon as she spoke the word, something seemed to snap in the back of Edric's mind. For a second, the briefest passing second, he was no longer sitting in the small farmhouse outside Vel Stratholm. He was nowhere at all. Instead he stood in a field of nothing, a vast emptiness that now was more than familiar to him, but back then had been nothing at all.
He saw a woman dressed in pure white, her form glowing with an ethereal beauty. Behind her stood a massive gate, it's huge stone doors standing open, each decorated with a scrawl that no human could understand. Edric watched as the woman bent down, her arms pulling from the heavy white cloak around her form. Delicately she grabbed a child which lay upon the ground, her face obscured as she softly plucked it into her grasp.
The baby made not a single sound as she swaddled it within her arms, her voice echoing within the world around them. Oh, my dearest child. You never once had a chance.
Her voice carried like a song, ringing out longer than it should have as Edric watched her stand. Slowly she turned, her figure striding back towards the great stone gates. She walked with an elegance that he could barely comprehend, more floating through the air than striding.
"And then." The old woman's voice rang out from behind him somewhere. "You took a breath."
Edric watched as the woman in white turned. Watched as the hood flickered back over her shoulders, as her face and the utter panic upon it was revealed. A hand reaching out as the great stone gates began to close, her voice echoing out in a shout of pure panic as she and the child she had been carrying was suddenly locked away. The gates shutting before she could turn back.
His mind suddenly snapped back, eyes blinking as he found himself once more sitting in the little farmhouse. The old woman before him smiling wide as she continued to tell her happy little tale. "I had thought...we had all thought you gone. Your mother...poor thing, she had asked for the Lector to have you blessed. To ensure Anirius and the saints would watch over you."
She smiled sadly again. "Then you breathed."
The old woman said softly.
"A glorious breath, that seemed nothing less than a miracle." Her smile became a bit wider. "For your mother it was nothing less than that, for your father too. They saw you as nothing less. Even after-"
Her words came to a stop as Edric suddenly stood, the chair creaking as it half fell back. For a brief moment fear flickered over the old woman's features, as if she wasn't quite sure what was about to happen. Gnarled old fingers curling on the tabletop as though she were preparing for some ill-fate. Then suddenly Edric leaned down.
His arms wrapped around the old midwife, his chest rising and falling in a quiet and steady cry.
