[Flashback] Lonely Days

[Alkor Korinado]

Timestamp: 8th day of Winter, 504 AV
Location: Just outside Avanthal, near Alkor's ancestral home.
Time of Day: Night

There was a snowstorm brewing off in the distance, the young Vantha observed. Just over the mountains, behind where the Aurora Borealis were illuminating the horizon with a magnificent display of ever-shifting hues. He had paid close attention as his father strung the bow, though given the opportunity to do it himself found him struggling to even pull the sinew an inch.

They were to hunt again. Alkor hated when he had to go to hunt; he had to watch the other two while they celebrated their victories, and most of the time, he had to carry it all back for them. That was why he always ran off and hid.

That was why Alkor had gotten lost, not so far from home that he was in danger, but far enough that he had slumped down and given up hope. After all, he was still young, only fifteen by that time. He remembered what it was like to sit near the fire, listening to the stories and watching the others laugh and sing, and he remembered that he was nothing like them. Crying in the middle of a frozen hell, he felt the stinging pain of the water freezing almost instantly on his skin and his lips crack as he bit down on them.

He always seemed to get lost, though he always found a way out. Alkor prided himself in being the unluckiest lucky man alive, or so was the name his uncle had given him. Alkor pressed himself off the ground, his muscles tight because of the extreme cold, and smiled to himself. He was used to it, yes, but he had been out in it long enough and not physically or mentally prepared himself for it. That had been his father's error, not teaching his son how to handle himself in such a life-threatening situation.

But when that hand pulled Alkor's and the youth felt himself free of the danger at long last, he smiled up into his uncle's bright eyes and laughed. He was with the only person in the world he trusted, the only person in the world he felt like actually loved him. The man who went out of his way, having instinctively known Alkor was in danger, to save his nephew from certain death.

As they trudged along, Alkor spoke to his uncle quietly.

Uncle, why do I have to go with them? Why do they insist?

The elder man merely smiled; he knew that the day would come when Alkor would grow up and be faced with a reality he was unprepared for. The difference was, Alkor's uncle knew that the boy would make the choice he had not. And he had to prepare the boy for that.

"No one understands why those around them do anything, little Alkor. That's what life is all about. If we knew everything, we would never have to learn. And without learning, we would all be empty."

Alkor hated it; while the logic seemed simple to most, to Alkor it was like a riddle. In fact, the proverb simply annoyed the boy as he walked along, until finally he caved and spoke up again.

So why don't you teach me how to be like you, uncle? Didn't you used to fight with heroes from other lands, far away? Didn't you travel and see the world?

There was an awkward silence, a grim look on his uncle's face. Alkor would be the one to succeed him in his legacy of pain, but in an entirely new way. What he accepted as fate was the single hardest thing the elder man had ever had to accept. He was passing his burden on to a new generation. But he had to bite his lip and smile while Alkor made his own choices.

"Yours is a healthy desire, Alky. To learn and to grow. Don't let it be tarnished by the desire to gain glory. You are still but a child..."

Fuming, Alkor retorted without letting his uncle finish.

I'm a single year from adulthood, Uncle. I want to learn. I don't care about glory, I just want to have my own life. I want the ability to reach out for that. To go to new places, and to live. Isn't that what you want for me? I don't belong here... its so lonely, here, this place, these people... all strangers despite having grown up beside them...

As he trailed off, Alkor watched the night sky and smiled. There was pain beneath the surface, and the elder man could see that. Alkor did not belong there, he was not meant to be one of those people... but more than that, Alkor had the tenacity to succeed his uncle. And as renowned martial artist, the elder man accepted that it was destiny.

To Alkor's uncle, expressing oneself went beyond words and crafts. It was an art that existed only in a flowing moment, in motions that briefly expressed perfection. And in Alkor, right now, he saw that perfection personified. He knew the boy was ready.

[Alkor Korinado]

Timestamp: 8th day of Winter, 504 AV
Location: Alkor's Uncle's home, Avanthal
Time of Day: Getting on toward midnight

It had grown late, the moon high overhead dipping behind a sea of stormy gray clouds and the sound of thunder cracking overheard all that reminded Alkor that he was still awake. It was like a dream, watching his uncle flow through rapid motions that belied a temperate tundra with tenacity that the boy hardly believed could ever exist. He almost pinched himself in disbelief, but his uncle turned to him and bowed, speaking up almost instantly, as if he had just finished lounging around for an hour.

"Well, little Alkor, what do you think? Still want to learn?"

There was no question in the boy's mind. He had resolved to learn the moment he had made his personal and very secret decision to leave Avanthal on his next birthday. That left him with precious little time to learn what his uncle had to teach...

But thinking was costly for Alkor. He felt the pain of a heavy weight on his shoulder, his uncle pressuring into a very sensitive nerve that caused Alkor to become light headed.

"Pay attention, young one. It could keep you alive, you know."

Almost immediately, Alkor moved to grab his uncle's arm and push it to one side, but found himself locked in place. His uncle had moved with blinding speed, locking Alkor against the floor. The boy attempted to cry out, but the pain was mind numbing.

Uncle... it... hurts...!

Tears flooded down the boy's face as he attempted in vain to discourage the man, but his uncle forced him to endure it. Long had he watched Alkor lackadaisically skimp out on hard labor, and long had he condoned it. It was too late now for Alkor to back out. Not that he wanted to.

There was something in Alkor that snapped when he felt the pain. Something deep within, something his uncle had hoped was there, lying in wait. That inner fire, the thing that very few in this area could ever claim to have... Alkor had it! He could truly master the family martial art, and for that, his uncle was relieved. Alkor had a few years to catch up on, but a season would do for that. At least, that was what his uncle hammered into him. To be where a man trained his entire life ought to be in the matter of days.

With a groan, Alkor practiced remaining in his stance, even though it hurt. He concentrated on everything else but the pain, and in turn, it only hurt more. The discipline was something Alkor did not understand, and yet, slowly he became more accustomed to it. Blood flowed to his legs, through his arms, and he breathed calmly.

In a flash his uncle lashed out at him, and Alkor did as he was instructed to do. Hold his arm fast in the blocking position and take the kicks as he was hammered into. Alkor swore to himself up and down that the bones in his arm shattered with each impact, only to find that a new sensation awaited with each kick. The burning pain only served to heighten his concentration until finally, he let his arm fall to his side limp, unable to take any more.

Uncle... it hurts!

Anger coursed through Alkor. Something about his people was quite cold, and Alkor was the complete opposite. He was letting his emotions flow through him. And as his uncle wailed on him, nearly breaking every bone in his body, conditioning him to keep standing while taking a brutal beating, Alkor winced and realized the truth.

He had been isolated. So far from where he belonged for far too long. This was his calling; to see the world, to endure new things, to learn and to help people who were like him, and even some who were different. He could tell stories and protect people...

But Alkor was getting ahead of himself. Focusing solely on his breathing now, Alkor moved choppily through the form his uncle had been forcing him to watch over and over, until finally his body just copied it instinctively. His entire body ached now, going through the motions, and just as he had almost gotten in right, he dropped flat on his face and began to breathe heavily.

U...n...cle... i...it.... h... hur... hurts...

With that, Alkor faded into unconsciousness. His uncle watched over him while he slept, smiling happily and waiting for the next morning to come, wherein he hoped Alkor would be ready for a new challenge...

[Alkor Korinado]

Timestamp: 9th day of Winter, 504 AV
Location: Alkor's uncle's house, on the floor
Time of Day: Early Morning

He felt a cold sensation showering over his body, and Alkor jumped to attention directly from sleep. His senses were numbed by the icy bite of glacial water being dumped over him, and his eyes were ruby red with rage.

Don't do that again!

With a jolt, Alkor realized that it had been his uncle, who was now smirking down at him, who had awakened him. With a groan, Alkor rubbed his head and realized that sleep had mostly rejuvenated his body, despite the lingering pains all over. His muscles did not want to move, multiple bruises littering his person like a minefield.

Despite his disdain for the concept, Alkor got into his low horse stance and took in a deep breath, letting the world flow around him and through him without a word. He knew it was better to just let it happen than to fight against it when he had no choice.

His uncle moved slowly through a more basic form as Alkor watched, a kick, then a spin and a jumping kick, landing in a more complex balanced stance, spinning through with a jumping crescent and cutting it short in an axe kick, then ending in ready position.

Alkor had gone over this time and again in his mind, and as he pushed himself into the motions, he realized that they were a bit easier than he'd thought... but that didn't stop him from stumbling on the jump kicks and losing his balance in the more complex stance. He fell on his face in an instant before recovering in a forward roll, something his uncle took note of as Alkor came quickly to his feet.

"You need to practice, Alkor. You won't find your balance without working hard at it. Go on, one leg against the wall, only your heel touching."

Alkor grimaced, walking toward the wall, kicking up and landing his heel against it. It wasn't a very wide split, per se, but he could feel the stretch in his groin. Biting his lip, he pressed into it, forcing himself to stretch further until he gave a grunt that told him it was almost too much.

His uncle belted into his shoulder with a punch, causing Alkor to gasp.

"Push yourself! You can do better!"

With a bit more enthusiasm and a smile, Alkor leaned forward and grabbed his toe with both hands, hopping on one foot to balance himself until his leg was as far stretched as he could stand. Sweat dripped down his body until he steadied himself on that single foot and held there for a moment more, then swung his leg down and kicked up simultaneously with the other leg, landing with his knee bent and both hands on the ground.

Grimacing again, Alkor cursed himself for his overzealous motion, but he heard his uncle praising his efforts in the back of his mind and pushed himself back up to a standing position with his heel dragging along the wall. He moved his hands up to his toe and pushed his torso into his knee, breathing heavily as the pain shot through him.

"Good Alkor! You're more flexible than you let on, boy! Well, you ought to be nearly ready for that form... get loose, then come on over here and I'll walk you through it."

Alkor lit up. His uncle was finally moving at his pace. With a few more breaths, he began to go through stretching his arms, his back, then his neck, and he walked over, poised to begin...

[Alkor Korinado]

One kick into the next, Alkor spun through with only the tips of his toes ever touching the ground. He stumbled over himself slightly, but caught himself as he landed in the proper stance and found his weight favoring his right leg. Mentally he noted the weakness and decided that it would take time to hammer out, but not before his uncle swept the leg out from underneath him.

"Balance, Alkor! You have to distribute your weight as you descend. Its not about how much vertical you get!"

The youth immediately responded as he fell to his back, letting out a loud 'oof!' as he pushed his weight into his shoulders, then sprang to his feet with determination burning in his now violet eyes.

I'm starting to get it though, aren't I!?

His uncle assessed Alkor's new tenacity with a slight smirk, then nodded as he turned a 360 and hook kicked at Alkor's midsection. The boy cried out slightly and threw his hands down to absorb some of the impact, but found himself buckling and being forced toward the wall.

"It's good to be proud of yourself, Alkor. But it's a bad thing to get cocky, or to seek too much appreciation. I had to learn that lesson, too. Its just one more weakness to compensate for."

Alkor sighed and nodded as he turned and readied himself to begin the form anew...

Hours went by, then days as the same routine seemed to compound and get more difficult, and Alkor found himself stronger, faster, more flexible and more disciplined. Things were in motion, however, that would change the boy forever...

[Alkor Korinado]

Timestamp: 20th day of Spring, 505 AV
Location: Avanthal, just outside Alkor's uncle's home
Time of Day: Midday

Alkor awoke quietly before sunrise. He was ready to begin his day the same way he and his uncle always had, quiet meditation until the light of day broke through the windows and they began with their breathing exercises and stretches. Something was amiss, though, and Alkor felt it.

His uncle was not there.

The house felt colder than usual, the first vestiges of light breaking through the still-open doorway. Alkor jumped up, sprinting toward the door and looking around frantically. He knew his uncle would already have been awake, though he had no idea why he might have gone out so early.

Terrified, Alkor stared out into the town square where the adults were, for some reason, all still awake and steadily becoming an angry mob.

"How dare you, old man! We accepted you back into the fold because you swore you would never practice that forbidden art again!"

One angry voice after another berated someone... though Alkor couldn't tell who. It was loud enough now that fires were being lit the town over to illuminate the scene. He peered into the crowd to see what was going on, but it was too late. His uncle was there, in the midst of the angry people, being beaten and submitting to it wordlessly. He was crumpled on the ground, deject and slowly dying, but he sat there with serenity on his face.

Alkor's eyes widened. These people were killing his uncle, but he couldn't possibly understand why. They were content to live their lives their way, the way the always had, but his uncle and he were different. That was the only thing Alkor understood.

He stood himself up from where he had fallen to his knees, knowing that he could do nothing to help his uncle. He heard the man cough loudly, hacking up blood, and he winced, his eyes shutting tight. There was no way... he was going to be next, since it looked like they were on a killing spree today, and he wasn't staying any longer than he had to.

Running to his uncle's room, Alkor collected a single pair of leather gloves that bore no fingers that his uncle had told him would be his the moment he was ready. Alkor cursed fate, knowing that his uncle couldn't wait that long anymore.

As pain overcame his uncle's tolerance, Alkor listened to the inhuman wails of agony rising over the shouting crowd. He slipped his hands into the gloves and went through his uncle's belongings, grabbing some money and packing the three or four scrolls his uncle had shown him that depicted all of the style he had been teaching him.

Alkor rushed out the door in a mindless rush to save his own life. He rushed past the city guards, who had already been on their way to settle the crowd, and they gave him a slight look before he rushed out into the tempest of snow that was the northern wilds. Alkor had no idea where he was going, but anywhere was better than here. He was alone now, and he was in a strange world. But that was strangely comforting to him, because that had been what he wanted all along.

And now, his adventure began.

[Gossamer]

. Character: Alkor Experience: 2XP Unarmed Combat Lore: Fleeing a mob Additional Note: I have to admit I’m a bit confused why an unarmed combat would be a forbidden art and then why a crowd (which you never said where it was) would have beaten a man to death for practicing it. Seems a little… overly dramatic almost like a asiannovella or something? Please explain it to me when you get a second. .