It wasnt always so [Flash Back]

[Hush]

Summer Of 496

The sun bore its fiery wrath upon a poor lad adorned in heavy plate, just a boy learning the craft of ardent defender . Like most squires his age, he dreamed of becoming a Sylrian Knight, blessed by the gods he was stronger and taller then most his age. And he was quickly proving himself above and beyond the typical kid that fancied themself a swordsman.

His chest hit the ground, and rose, and fell.

Sweat beaded off his sun kissed face, the constant glow of summer had bronzed his skin.

His eyes were open, gritting his teeth as he continued to do push ups in steel armor. He was cooking on the inside, but every time he dipped down and pulled up was a step forward. It was a challenge, but while the others were complaining about the heat and being lazy in the shade. Gorgoth was climbing knew plataues becoming better and stronger at what it was he was supposed to do.

To be a shield to protect the citizens.

Of course that was a purdy notion, boy wantin to put the weight of Mizahar on his shoulders. Wish someone would have put me on the straight and narrow, gods know I could have used it. See chum, theres just some things about power that changes people. Those with it abuse it, made the mistake in my early years of thinking that the world is an ideal kinda place. Where good triumphs over evil, and that law order and justice in sylria is provided to all those within its walls.

Im the kinda guy that doesnt respond well to bull shyke.

The voices, actions and people fade and swirl and a tapestry like a painting unfurls. But unlike inks and dyes, this kind of artistry is woven from yesterdays. Memories can be beautiful and serene, like the first time he kissed a girl. It was on a log overlooking the lake with glow bugs and stars while the melody of chirping crickets lofted around them in the forest. Or they can be a horrible and terrifying thing, faces of the dead come to haunt in the midnight hour or those memories of vanquished friends and unfortunate mishappenings, a special moment in time in which one can relive over and over again for better or worse.

And it was on such a summers day, that his cherished boon would become a curse which inflicted torment beyond gods and there divine blight. Funny thing the gods, how they sit perched on mortal shoulders proclaiming there greatness when it is man that carries them.

Stepping forward he still remembered how the the sweat tasted when it rolled across his lips, he relived the moment in which his massive sword came hurling forward at an angle. And how wide his brother in arms eyes were when he saw the sword, he had the classic Oh No face. It was for the lack of better words; priceless. As his weapon made contact it erupted into a red explosion as cold steel sunk into meat and flesh in a fashion one would describe as more ripping then actual cutting. It was one of those less then pretty deaths, watching him lay they feet sprawled out with his back braced against the wall. Gurgling, coughing up tremendous amounts of blood and looking at you with puppy dog eyes as he is violently drowning. The fingers, hands pointing, in my direction, I had lived but I had killed a fledgling knight

The more I look back at it, the more I wonder why that knight attacked me. I had a feeling that a few had been jealous, but never would have thought petty grievences would escalate into the desire for murder. As triumphant as I may have been, the world as I knew it came a tumbling down. A marked man, by a world I once sought to protect.

It made me into the gentleman I am today.