Solo A Knights Tale, the Beginning

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This shining population center is considered the jewel of The Sylira Region. Home of the vast majority of Mizahar's population, Syliras is nestled in a quiet, sprawling valley on the shores of the Suvan Sea. [Lore]

A Knights Tale, the Beginning

Postby Ethan Terran on April 22nd, 2013, 1:29 pm

Location: Syliras
Time: Early Evening
Weather: Light Rain
Date: 8th of Spring, 513 AV

Three days time had past since Ethan returned to his home, his true home known as Syliras. He had hoped it would be a happy coming, filled with joy and prosperity, yet he should have known better. Yes it was his home, his birth place, but by what stretch of the mind could possibly lead him to think that life would be any easier here than it had been in Zeltiva? In fact, how could life ever be considered easy for a blind man who carries impossible dreams within his heart? It was a lesson that was quickly learned. No matter where you go, your troubles shall follow you for you find the same difficulties in all of Mizahar. Work was hard to come by, especially for one such as Ethan who was seen by so many as impaired, useless and not worth the effort. What could a blind man do? Could he tend tables when he cannot navigate a busy tavern? Could he carry messages when he could only travel as fast as a walk at any time? What use was he if he could not tell one face from another, could not read words upon a piece of paper? His hands were soft and bore no markings of a life of hard work, and even if he had been born with sight many would say that Ethan was unsuited to be anything if he had never done a true days work in his life. He could not even to the simplest of tasks... What hope have he when he tried everywhere and was always met with the same answer?

"The stable master says I cannot tend what I cannot see. The courier says I cannot deliver to what I cannot find. The inn keeper says I cannot service if I cannot tell one face from another. Then what is left to me?What is left that I might do?" Ethan cursed under his breath as he tread slowly along the path that he remembered from his childhood. One hand rested upon the wall, a guide that aided him when traveling from one place to another, while the other grasped was was a simple tree limb that Ethan had quite literally stumbled over some time ago. The limb he used to test the path ahead of him, searching for obstacles that might impede his movement. The sounds of the city filled his ears, becoming a confused cacophony of random voices and noises that Ethan could not separate. When he had lived within these walls as a boy Ethan always walked these paths with his father, and he always had his voice to hold onto, to focus on as he learned the twisting corridors by heart. Yet now that voice was gone, and for the first time Ethan realized just how much his Father's presence had done for him. WIthout his guidance he could walk only very slowly, pressed against the wall for fear of what would happen should he lose this solid pillar that guided him. For if he were to lose his way, Ethan knew he would have no way of finding his way back to the inn where he stayed...

Turning his sightless eyes up, the man felt the random falling drop that fell upon his cheeks or passed through his hair and onto his skin. It was a light rain, one that most would not even noticed unless they were searching for it. For Ethan, though, it was something that could not be ignored. The randomness of the falling drops distracted him, and annoyed him to no end as he struggled to maintain a mental diagram of where he was within the city. Yet each drop was like crashing symbols in his mind, sending ripples through the clear picture of the city, distorting his map and confidence in the path he was following.

Suddenly an obstacle appeared, catching his foot and causing the man to stumble and fall forward. His hands scrapped against the stones, stinging from the dirt, and the damp ground soaked through his clothing and sent a sudden chill through his spine. The sounds of the branch clattering on the ground rung in Ethan's ears, and for a moment the man was frozen in surprise. He had felt no obstacle before him just moments ago, and yet somehow it had materialized from no where. Then, faintly, almost indistinguishable from the sounds of the city, the laughter of children and the scurry of little feet. Ethan gritted his teeth, hands balling into fists as he pressed his forehead into the dirt. No one paid him any heed. Simply passing him by, certain that someone else would come along to help the poor man. But of course none did, and Ethan already knew none would. They never do.

"Why... why is it like this...? Though I feel I am no different, why do they all..." He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting back a hot pressure as he beard his teeth to the earth beneath him, clawing at the ground with fingers he could not even see, "What possible future can I have? What is the point of trying when I am never given the chance" A sob, a single sob, and a quick intake of breath and Ethan shook his head. He would not, could not let tears fall now. Not now. Not upon the soil of his home. A knight would not cry. A knight would not allow himself to be driven so low, and he would never allow himself to give up. But then, Ethan was not a knight, no matter how desperately he wished to be.

Coughing, rubbing the back of his hand over his face to clear it of dirt, Ethan then crawled upon hands and knees, hands searching for the branch that had been lost, "What a sight this would be, to see a knight crawling on the ground in search of a tree branch." Ethan whispered, hands still searching, "The Tale of Great Ser Ethan, the knight who concurred all trials by stumbling and crawling in the dirt." Bitterness filled the man's voice as his fingers finally wrapped around the fallen limb, clinging to it desperately as he raised himself to his knees, "And carries not a sword, but an old rotten branch from some god forsaken tree."

Pressing a hand against the wall, using the branch as support as well, Ethan slowly raised himself up once more upon his feet. He did not even bother to dust off his trousers and shirt, for what was the point? All treated him as a beggar, so he might as well look the part. Once more he set out toward the inn, pressed against the wall, searching ahead with the branch while the whole of the world pretended he did not even exist.

It could not have been more than a chime or two, perhaps three, but then Ethan heard something that seemed quite out of place in the streets of Syliras. It was... a woman's voice perhaps? Though that was not uncommon to hear, yet something about the tone, the pitch. It sounded excited, or perhaps agitated. Softly, so soft that he might not have heard it at all over the clatter of the streets, one word drifted over to his ear: "Stop!"

He could not be sure, but it sounded as if it were a woman in distress, someone who called out for aid, for assistance. Then again, it might simply be Ethan's imagining. The rains were beginning to fall harder now, sounds becoming muffled by the water droplets. It was probably nothing. Nothing of Ethan's concern at least, and so he turned his head back to the path ahead. Though still he would catch faint hints of the woman's voice, now so soft even he had to strain to hear it. It was coming from somewhere beyond his chosen path.

But what if it IS a woman in distress? Ethan wondered to himself. He could not simply ignore a cry for help... could he? But then what use would I be. I am blind, and the knights of Syliras are within the city. It is their duty to help those in need in the city, not mine. It is they who have the strength to do good, not I. But still there was a nagging sensation in the back of Ethan's mind even as he made up his mind to ignore what could very well be a figment of his imagination. After all if he were to let go of the wall he would have no way of finding his way within the city. He would become lost, and for a man who could not see to lose one's way was an all but certain death sentence...

"Please"

Releasing his grip from the wall Ethan pushed into the darkness, pressing into bodies, hearing shouts and shoved from side to side as he fought his way in what he hoped was the right direction. He did not stop, though he would pause as he came to walls, or other obstacles, tilting his head to find the directions he was to take. It was a terrible process, one that scrambled Ethan's map of the city, making it all but useless to even try to determine where he had ended up. He could not even tell if he were getting closer to the voice, for as he continued the rain began to come down harder, nearly in sheets, or so it felt to ethan. Each drop that struck his skin would ripple through his mind, breaking his concentration and making focusing on the singular voice all the more difficult. Yet though it felt like an eternity, and Ethan was certain he was lost beyond rectification, quite suddenly he turned a corner and the woman's voice was quite clear, and right in front of him.

"I told you I did not have it! I gave you all that I could, now leave me be!"

Another voice came to Ethan's ears, and tilting his head he guessed that he stood between Ethan and the woman, "I told you before that it was not enough. Give me the rest you owe or I will be taking it from you in other ways."

The sounds of boots on dirt came to Ethan's ears, as well as the distinguishable sound of metal on leather. He was armed, with what Ethan could not tell. A dagger? A long sword? A mace perhaps? It did not mater what it was, for even if he had only his fists Ethan would be no match. His efforts would be in vain, and not only would the girl be taken, but he could very well end up dead.

Ethan pressed his back against the wall, heart racing as he listened to the sounds of the woman and the man. He heard her struggle, could nearly taste her fear, and her anxiety. Yet still what could he do? The smart thing to do would be to flee, and somehow contact the knights. Surely they would be close, they had to be. Right? But what if they weren't. What if they were already occupied with something else, something more important? Or what if they did not arrive in time? The girl would be killed, or worse... Could Ethan really allow that to happen?

The words of his father drifted into Ethan's stricken mind, soothing the uncertainties. The knights are the most courageous in the land, but it is not the lack of fear that makes them great. No, it is the willingness to do what is right despite a fear of death or what may come. A knight is a man of valor, a man of integrity. Even if you can never wear the plate, or hold a sword, you should always try to uphold what the knights stand for.

Of course he could not stand by and let an innocent become victimized. He could never hold his head up with the weight of shame if he allowed something like this to happen knowing he did nothing to prevent it. Ethan was no knight. He was not strong, and in fact he was weaker than most. Even so... he could not stand by and do nothing when there was someone near him that needed his aid.

Gritting his teeth, clenching his fists, Ethan threw himself around the corner, walking with the branch held in his hand as if he would use it as a weapon, and he faced the darkness with a grim expression, "Leave her be. If you want for something then take it from me instead."

What had he done? What had he done!? He was throwing himself to the fire, offering himself to his own demise, and all he could do now after such a bold statement was stand trembling in the rain, trying to look as fierce as he could, though he was not even sure what a fierce expression would be. He was scared... so very scared.

Silence reigned as the man turned to look at Ethan, an expression akin to bewilderment on his face. There before him was what looked like a begger, one of the worst beggars in fact, and in his hands he held a stick with trembling fingers and an expression that looked as if he were constipated. The man was stunned to silence for a moment, before a fit of laughter struck him.

The sounds of the man's laughter washed over Ethan, adding to his already dread filled heart a sense of embarrassment. So a blind man could not even be a hero... Perhaps there truly was nothing for Ethan in this world.

"What the petch do you think you are doing boy?" The man asked, sounding like an amused father watching his kid do something completely ridicules, "Are you daft, or just plain stupid? Do you know this girl?"

The woman pressed her back against the wall, keens curled up to her chest as she wrapped her arms around her, a protective position as her eyes darted between Ethan and the man.

Obediently Ethan answered, "W-well... no." and immediately he cursed himself for it.

Turning to face Ethan, the man looked the boy up and down, "Then what the shyte are you doing? This buisness has nothing to do with you, so let me save you your skin. Get out of here now or I will have to pound some sense into that thick skull of yours." Waving a hand, dismissively (of course Ethan missed this) he would then begin to look back at the woman.

"N-no." What was he saying? Did he WANT to get his arse handed to him? Did he WANT to get run through? Ethan visibly shook, his hands only just holding the stick. The man turned to look at Ethan once more, brow furrowing even as the woman's eyes opened in shock, "I-I... I w-will uphold the teachings of the knights. I will... will protect everyone within my s-sight no matter who they are, or what they have done."

The man laughed again, resting a hand on the hilt of his dagger, for it was in fact a dagger, "Well what do ya know. A blind man is going to protect everyone in his sight. Do you fell safe now lass?" He glanced over his shoulder at the woman, chuckling. The girl only shook her head, looking at Ethan as if she wished he would just run. She could not bear it. She did not want to see a man die right in front of her.

Ethan's mind buzzed with half formed thoughts. The rain fell and drenched him, and the sounds of the man's footsteps coming closer froze his body and made his legs tremble. Though his hand gripped the stick, Ethan felt completely defenseless.

"Fine boy you want to play hero? Ill give you a hero's beating." The words crossed the space in what seemed like ticks, yet the feeling of pain in his stomach felt as if it came much faster. Ethan doubled over in pain, instantly dropping the stick. Then there was a sudden sharp pain on his face as the man's knee connected with the bridge of Ethan's knows and sent him sprawling backwards. The metallic taste of blood flooded Ethan's senses as she slowly rolled over, propping himself up on one elbow as he cradled his stomach. Reaching up he felt something warm and sticky leaking out from his nose, yet he had little time to think about it as he was roughly lifted by the collar of his shirt and struck across the face with such force that his head swam and he fell against the wall.

"No! Please stop you'll kill him!"

She sounds so worried... Ethan thought as another blow landed in his chest, expelling the air from his lungs in a sharp, guttural cough. And to think... I wanted to save her, and yet she pleads for my life instead.

The next strike connected beneath his chin, his head cracking against stone as he bit his own lip. Warmth began to sleep from the cut and trickle down his chin as he slowly slid down the wall, sitting in a half daze as the world around him felt like it was tilting. He could hear the woman again, though now he could not make out the words.

As I thought, it is impossible. What was I thinking, I could never become a knight. I cannot even protect a single girl. If only... if only I had some strength, any strength at all. Then maybe she would not have to suffer.

He coughed, feeling warmth spew from his lips as she sagged against the wall, his body growing numb. His head swam, his eyes rolled in their sockets, and slowly he was beginning to lose his connection with the world around him. Yet still... still he could hear her voice. Pleading, calling, begging... for him? Why would she beg for his life when she had her own to worry about. Why did she care so much what happened to a poor blind man?

The pity of a woman, he thought, Can even extend to someone as forsaken as me apparently.

The sound of a fist hitting flesh sounded, and Ethan tilted his head, flinching, yet he did not feel the impact or any pain. The sound came again, and Ethan's brow furrowed. The sound again, and this time a cry of pain that were not from his lips. Ethan's heart pounded, and the light headiness began to fade as he listened, listened to the sounds of the girl being punished and abused, and for what? Because he was not strong enough. He could not protect this one, single girl, and now she was paying for his lack of power, his lack of strength. It wasn't fair.

"I-It's... N-not fair." he mumbled, shifting his body so that his back straightened. Something hot streaked down the boy's cheek, and somehow he knew it wasn't blood, "It's not fair." Ethan repeated, the words somewhat garbled by spit and blood that trickled down the side of his lip.

"Did I knock ya senseless boy? Your talking to yourself." There was that laughter once again, and the sound of footsteps drawing closer. Ethan listened, and he could hear the girl's shallow breathing, punctuated by soft sobs. He listened to her, heard her shift in the dirt, pulling her legs to her chest. He knew that she did this. The way the cloth sounded, the scrap of linen on linen as the gravel shifted beneath her feet. More than that, he found himself focusing on everything around him. The world began to come back to Ethan, filling with detail once more, more details that he had not noticed just moments before. Perhaps it was the shock of pain, or the panic of the situation, but now as his heart calmed Ethan found the world was not as dark as before.

Once more the world opened up to the blind man. He could hear the crunch of boot on gravel, the sounds of deep breathing from the man, breaths that showed the exertion of his merciless beatings. That breathing seemed so loud, deafening the closer that he got. The scrap of metal on leather, now that he focused Ethan noticed that the sound came more to his left ear than his right, and the more he concentrated the more details the sounds etched into his mind. The man's finger's made sounds as well, the bones cracking as they clenched into fists.

A foot shifted forward, and Ethan heard the rustle of the man's tunic as he brought his hand back. He stepped closer, Ethan heard a sharp intake of breath and a grunt as the gravel shifted as the weight changed on the lead foot. Ethan knew what that meant, knew what was to come because he had heard it before, but had not really paid attention. He was focused on the impact, the pain that was to come, and had not even considered that he might be able to DO something about it. But... now that the his heart had calmed, and his view of the world was crystal clear, Ethan knew what to do.

Sucking in a breath Ethan ducked his head, feeling the breath of air as the fist sailed over him and cracked against the stone wall. The man cursed, stumbling back and gripped his wrist.

Ethan heard the cry, felt the wall tremble as it was hit. He knew there was an opening, and quickly Ethan took it. Scrambling up from the dirt he positioned himself between the woman and the man, stretching out his arms as if to shield her. As if he COULD shield her. No, no he could not let such thoughts cloud him now. He COULD protect her. He had to. If he didn't, then she would be...

Ethan tilted his head as he listened to the man curse once more. Gravel turned under foot as he faced Ethan and the girl behind him. He swore, cracking his knuckles as he stepped closer,"Petch it boy, that hurt like hell. Shyte I was going to let you off with a beating, but now..." Ethan's body tensed as he heard the sound of metal scraping. Behind him the girl moved, a sharp intake of breath and a small gasp giving Ethan all he needed to figure out that the man had drawn his dagger, "Now I am just going to have to run you through."

Ethan's entire body shook, visibly he was sure, and now with his senses renewed he could hear the quickened breath, the crunch of footsteps getting closer and closer, the deep growl within the man's throat. He could see him raise his arm, the sound of leather tunic creaking as it stretched, and the down swing began and Ethan shut his eyes (such a futile gesture, and even more so for a blind man).

Then there came a sound that brought such relief and joy that Ethan nearly fell to the ground, his knees threatening to give out from the continuous tension of the situation. It was the sounds of heavy foot fall, the clank of plate male, loud voices that called orders strong and clear.

"Hey! Over here! I heard the voice over here!"

Though the mark Ethan could feel the man's head turn to look over his shoulder, and he could almost imagine the look that must have crossed his face as he cursed, "Petch. The Knights move quicker than I thought." The man looked back toward Ethan and the girl, pausing a moment as if weighing if they were worth atempting to fight the knights. Of course the answer was simple, and the sounds of scraping metal rung out as the dagger was sheethed, "You got lucky this time. I wont forget your face!" And with that the man turned, running in the opposite direction of the quickly approaching footsteps.

Then Ethan really did sink to the ground, breathing out a breath he had not even realized he had held in. And then... he laughed. He laughed hard, he laughed long until the laughter faded into hearty chuckles as he wiped away tears that had sprung to his eyes. Shifting his body Ethan rested his back against the wall, closing his eyes as he leaned his head against the stones, feeling the rain splash on his dirty and blood covered face.

"Th-thank you..." The small voice came from Ethan's right, a lot closer than he realized. He was nearly rubbing shoulders with the girl.

Opening his eyes in surprise, Ethan tilted his head toward the small voice. A smile spread on his lips, and he chuckled again, "Don't thank me. I nearly wet myself from fear. I was certain I was going to die." He laughed, resting his head once more, "Really, I am no knight in shining armor. Things would have gone much more smoothly if I was, and I would not be sitting here with a swelled face."

His voice faded as he felt a cool hand on his swollen cheek, and again he felt his heart race, though he was certain it was for a new reason.

"No... you are far braver than any knight I have ever seen. And I... I thank you for saving me."

Ethan cleared his throat, heat rising to his cheeks as he tried to maintain his form. What would a knight say in a situation like this? Something cool, something heroic sounding, something...

"Well at least I do not need to purchase new breeches. That I kept from soiling myself is a miracle." Ethan wanted to die.

A soft giggle, so feminine and cute that it quickly washed away what embarrassment he had just moments before, "That really is good fortune then. And what should I call my protector?"

Ethan smiled awkwardly, though he hoped it was with some confidence, "I am Ethan Terran. And what about you?

The girl smiled. Something about the girl's words told Ethan that she had smiled at him, "I am Catrina, and I thank you Ser Ethan Terran, because you have become my knight protector at least."
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Ethan Terran
Through the Eyes of the Heart
 
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