Timestamp: 17 Summer,506 AV
OOCThis is just for character development, with any XP and lore awards being bonuses.
The day had started out like any other since his mother had died. He woke up to the sixth bell, and ate a stale slice of bread. After that, he prepared a pot of tea, woke his father, and they conversed over breakfast. They talked of common things such as the change of weather, the corruption of the Siliran Knights, the decline in magic, and other subjects that peasants found interest in. Once breakfast was done with, Alexander and his father began their training. Only weeks ago had Alexander been initiated, and the wounds had just recently healed, leaving gaping scars on his palms. His father went on with the lesson, explaining the risks involved before starting training. Alexander sighed, he had heard these all too many times. "Don't overgive, maintain control blah blah blah...". When was he going to learn how to shoot fire from his hands? Realizing his father was finally getting to explaining the most basic thing, concentrating on res and emanating it, he snapped back to attention, committing everything to memory. After long meditation and focus, Alexander managed to emit an ever so tiny thread of res in the form of gas, no wider than a strand of hair. Amazed, Alexander broke his focus, watching it. Instantly, without Alexander's focus, and no force to maintain it, it vanished. Alexander sighed, and his father, congratulating him, took him out for a stroll. Alexander's father, deciding to treat his son for his newfound ability, regarded the possibility of beef for dinner. Such a meal would do wonders restoring his son's spirits, and it had been a long time since either of them had had a decent meal. Heading over to the butcher's shop to purchase a fresh, decent cut of beef, he was suddenly pushed over, several of his Mizas clattering to the ground in the process. While the bandit who pushed him attempted to pick the gold-rimmed and silver-rimmed mizas that fell on the floor, Alexander's father silently rose, the bandit oblivious to his presence. Alexander's father focused his Res into a ball above him, igniting the outer layer and throwing it at the bandit, igniting the inner core and burning the bandit alive. The citizens nearby, afraid of his power, alerted the guards, who arrested him on the spot. Alexander watched in horror as the guards dragged his father away from him, sinking to his knees and sobbing uncontrollably. Rather than help him, passing people only regarded him for two seconds at most, and then continued, swerving left and right to avoid him. Returning home, he collapsed on his bed. He was asleep before his head touched the pillow. The next day, when Alexander awoke, he checked the mail. Inside was the court notice for him. His father had been declared guilty of wielding dangerous magic within the walls of Syliras, and was condemned to death that afternoon. Receiving this news, his shoulders instantly slumped, and his spirits sunk to an unprecedented level of sadness. Alexander was no longer hungry, any thought of breakfast long gone. That afternoon, a crowd gathered near the execution location, preparing to watch the next events. Hidden amongst the crowd, in a robe that concealed his face, Alexander cried silently, watching his father being pulled towards the executioner. As the executioner raised his halberd, Alexander turned away, unable to watch. Seconds later, he heard a mushy swish, much like a watermelon being chopped in half, heard a choked scream from his father, and the crowd cheering. What had the world come to? At that moment, he saw his father's limp, headless body being dragged off. Gods know what they'd do with his body... Abandoned, weeping, and fatigued, Alexander retired to his room, and slowly cried himself to sleep. |
