LIFE
He lived an unremarkable life in Syliras, with an unassuming group of friends, and a small family of traders. He grew up among business associates, clients, and work-engrossed family members, who were all certain that he would take on the profession as well; it was to be expected from an only child. He trained, studied, and succumbed to their firm expectations, eventually joining in on his father’s travels to and fro Zeltiva, in order to learn more. While his heart yearned for home, friendship, and a chance to fulfill his dreams of becoming a musician, his mind continued to argue with him and remind him that the happiness of his parents mattered, and his future was just as important. And so he continued his unremarkable, uneventful life riding the caravans, interacting with customers, cataloguing goods and providing related services; he was a doll, wired and strung. He blinked when he was told to, he spoke when he was meant to, and he moved only when his parents pulled his strings.
Nothing could even compare to the light that graced his features and lit his eyes when he saw her. It was yet another trip to Zeltiva for him, and the cool winds of the port city were incredibly uncomfortable for his sweat-drenched skin. But she stood there without incident, as the wind blew her auburn locks away from her face, and her green eyes gleamed with life. It was at that moment that he felt the strings on his wrists and legs had been cut off, and he was free. He was free to speak, free to move, free to be whatever he wanted to be. He approached her, and she greeted him warmly – no other person, no other woman could ever make this little mannequin of a person feel as if blood had, for the first time, coursed throughout his body and filled him with the warmth of life and living. They often met after he’d finished his work, and inevitably had both fallen madly in love with one another. She brought the sun to his skies and the beating to his heart. While they were apart, they wrote to each other, and whenever they found themselves together at Zeltiva, they wasted no time. Love was the answer, love was his drive; through her support, he found goodness in his parent’s profession, and even successfully persuaded them to let him play the fiddle. He lived a remarkable life.
Years passed and they continued to express their love for one another through their letters and meetings, and eventually, he’d grown tired of being away from her. He needed to be with her always, he needed to wake up to the scent of her hair and the gentleness of her face. He needed her. She had already given birth to his child, it was now or never. He sent her one last letter professing his intention to travel to Zeltiva in the guise of manning another caravan, and once there, they were to say their vows, marry, and live happily together. Without even awaiting her to respond to the note, he immediately prepared himself and his goods and fled as soon as possible.
DEATH
Mediocre lives tend to be shunned by both fortune and tragedy, and unfortunately, the latter had taken notice of the man’s life once it had gotten interesting. On his way towards Zeltiva, his caravan was met by a band of thieves, who had not only taken all of his goods and belongings, but also his life. He was stabbed and cut, and left to die, without having been able to speak or see the love of his life for one last time. But because of that, he refused to leave the ground, he refused to disappear; and so he became a ghost. He needed to see her, he needed to speak to her and apologize for his departure; he needed her. He waited for seasons before returning to her, as he feared that she would not recognize him, or see him, or worst – never forgive him. He eventually made his way to Zeltiva around the summer of 509 AV, but she was nowhere to be found.
No matter how hard whenever he would ask around, nobody could tell him where she was, or where she went, while others simply eyed him with shocked faces. He was a ghost after all; he was no longer alive, no longer human. It was when he met a sullen-looking man named Tom sitting close to the piers, who looked to be a citizen. He inquired of his lover’s location, but he too was oblivious to it – he didn’t even recognize her name or who he was referring to. His appearance and story piqued his interests, and he in turn decided that he was never going to find her. He’d looked everywhere, asked everywhere. Instead, he chose to stay close to Tom and become his friend and companion, as it appeared that they were more than just a pair of unlikely friends, but also a pair of kindred spirits.
Unbeknownst to him, she was washed away by the horrible tidal wave that befell Zeltiva during the Djed storm, when the pair of obelisks rose from the seas and caused the upset in the waters. She and their child had just come back from a bit of traveling, but unfortunately had met their demise upon their arrival back home. |
by Tom on May 2nd, 2012, 1:23 pm 
