Winter 92 512 AV Mid Afternoon
A large bulk, bolder of a man sat alone on the edge of one of the Spires many petals. Dressed in his usual dirty green coat, adorned with cold iron armour. All six foot of the stocky man sat at the edge of his perch. The hood brought up over his head hiding his face, a scarf covering the lower half. He sat idle with his hands in his lap as he gazed out towards the forest. For the good part of the day he had been here. For going breakfast and soon the fast approaching lunch as he had realized what day had come. His emotions had taken him before he had known it, as he felt them began to surge and pour forth. The young man sought to remove himself from public eyes. Quickly finding himself alone he let it flood freely from him. It was not rage that greeted the world through his eyes, but rather depression, sadness, agony. As well, as thoughts of suicide graced his mind once or twice. The ninety second was a very special day for this young man, it was after all. The day he had been born, and the same day his young fresh life had killed.
Banir was now a young thirty eight, his age betrayed his appearance as he was sill just a young man. It was thirty eight years ago that he had killed his mother by being brought into this world. And it was for thirty six long years of abuse at the hands of his father, and thirty six long years he had been blamed for his mothers death. His own thoughts began to betray him, turning upon himself destroying any positive sense of self he had carefully built over the two years away from home. He was just a murderer, a destroyer with no purpose in this world. It was all his own fault that this miss fortunate life had be fallen him. Had he never been born there would be a woman alive, healthy and well. As well as a man who'd hold no pain or wrath in his heart. If only he'd never been conceived there would be less pain caused by him. He was a walking ball of rage that deserved only an end. Why? Why had he been born if he was only to end up like this? A berserker barely restrained who's greatest talent is ending life? Why did he have to exist?
As these thoughts ran rampant in him tears streamed to pure and deep blue eyes. His throat became choked as he felt the cool tears stream down his mutilated cheeks. The scars on his face and body began to give a dull thud, though they agreed that he should have died a number of times now. He should have just died and let the world live on with one less problem to contend with. Banir didn't want to be like this, he tried forcing back the tears, forcing back his pain and anguish. To silence himself but this only caused him to sob louder. His rough voice echoing his cries of pain and sadness, his tears began to fall and dampen his old and stained scarf. His mind forced more thoughts upon him, how he had no right to feel this way. After what he had done to others how did he have the right to cry and sob? What right did he have? To even presume himself to be a warrior? To have honor? To be allowed to walk among people who can actually do something for others. Among those who may actually help people rather than kill them. Perhaps he should just die? At the behest of these thoughts he felt himself stand up at the edge. Looking down with tears streaming his eyes. Estimating if he could jump beyond the nets that caught the stray falling citizen of the Spires.