Flashback Wrath : Shut Up and Fight!! [Kreig Messer]

[Senghor Vilhjalmr]

36th of Summer 499AV. It was another day, another body and another sorrow in Sunberth, the air was full with the mixed scent of bustling life and the utter morbidity of death, these two scents defined the city and most importantly it's people. Sunberth was the home of many vagrants and many more opportunists and amongst all these types of genres of beings, there children were amongst them. Senghor wouldn't say he was blessed, he could say that he was lucky and that luck allowed him to have what others begged for though it didn't main that the Vilhjalmrs were wealthy to the extent they had workers and slaves to do their bidding, no, his parents still worked and whatever jobs they did allowed them to have that estate, that food, that life from what Seng knew... His mother, he'd always went into the market collecting materials, she always seemed to enjoy making use of those fabrics and cloths, always sowing and knitting, stitching and weaving, from his young mind she made clothing and that sold it at a 'fair' Sunberthian price. His father, well he didn't know what he did but he knew was that it was very important because he came back late at times, but most of the time he and Senghor's mother would be out and about making what little ends meet so that their son could live. Senghor had learnt not to ask for much and from that he always received more, if he would look back at that time he'd call himself one sly little bastard. Upon this day in his history, Senghor wasn't really busy, nor was he roaming about the market getting materials and cloths to carry back. On this day his parents merely told him to go out and play, yet how could he, last time he went out to 'play' some child called him the son of a whore, and shortly after, Senghor's parents had a visitor at their door complaining that her son was badly beaten and that he said he couldn't feel his legs. Yes, Senghor mayhaps had something to do with the incident but in his defense the boy was about calling other children names. His parents all but listened as the frantic mother hollered and spewed rubbish from her very lips, calling Seng an animal and uncivilized brute whilst he sat there in his seat, his young rage already boiling heavily over the sea of his life. At the end of the night, Senghor was forced to apologize for something that he didn't even do and that there was what set it into motion for him, from there onwards he wouldn't try to waste his time trying to make friends with other children, but sadly here he was again. Outside, sitting on a rock that'd made itself familiar with him, he sat there watching as the other children as they whispered and taunted yet never coming near in fear of what he would do, it was strange truly because if he were older and looked back at this moment, he would have basked in the glory of having others fear him yet at that moment, he was still young and wanted nothing more to hear the sweet voice of his mother or the stiff terrifying voice of his father to come back home. And with his youth came impatience, minutes seemed like hours and he dreaded on what hours felt like. In a sigh and scuff, he decided to stand from the rock and turn his presence somewhere else, Sunberth was full of danger but his young feet had already taught him to run from the slightest essence of impending doom, his young feet seemed to weight heavily as he walked about. True to his bloodline, the young Vilhjalmr had already began to explore and he made home the best place to start, who knew what sort of things he'd find out there?...