Gile Askara
If a normal night after a normal day for Gile resulted in nightmares, then a day where he'd had someone attempt to kill him acquired a slave and magically over given, resulted in possibly the worst rest he'd gotten in a long while, after only a few hours of deep sleep brought on by blessed exhaustion Gile's mind began to sink into a particularly dark place, his nightmares tended to have repetition to them, the classic line of "Don't be an Askara" echoed in his skull. He'd hated the phrase as a child and he still hated it, the question was, was he becoming as insane as everyone said all Askaras were?
Gile's brow beaded with sweat as his troubling dreams pranced about in his skull, the weight and warmth of Yazata Lying atop him brought him no comfort in the dark place his soul had crawled into, in his mind countless pairs of eyes glared at him from hazey faces. Accusing stares that made him feel like less of a human and more like someone that was worthless someone that only existed because he had the weight of his family to throw around, it was a sickening feeling that brought him no pleasure. Gile was his Own man, and he would bring success to himself no matter what anyone said, but the voices that tended to scream the loudest were the ones that lived within his own mind. He didn't want to be like his father, content to be a cobbler and run a meager business, he wanted the most he could get out of life, to be known and remembered by all the dynasties not just his own.
Gile was permanently tormented by thoughts of his own personal failures, it pained him that he was not good at relating to people or making friends and allies, even with his clients there was a detached sense of distance that he had yet to learn to bridge. He found it hard to trust anyone, but the last time he had tried his kindness had been thrown back at him. Now he had a new person in his life and his mind was panicking, how could he have been so stupid as to have just brought someone into his life, was he ready could he trust this person not to end him in his sleep, Gile's mind raced in his sleep as dark images of himself flickered through his head, he saw himself crying tears of blood screaming at the world. He was a mess and rightly so, the voices in his head liked to inform him that Hypnotism was his only bet at being liked, nobody could like him lest he bent their will. He was just low life scum not even fit to be an heir to his dynasty, So why should he try and be anything else? He should just accept his lot and use his magic to force things to his will. At least that's what the violent whispers liked to tell them, What was left of the Gile before he had come across magic still curled in a defiant ball in the center of his mind not quite willing to disappear, not quite willing to let the whispers control his mind and body, he'd take back control when he awoke, but for now he'd suffer tell he escaped sleep.