| | A page from Victor's childhood | |
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Dalsok Staff
Join date : 2009-04-29 Age : 38 Location : Norway
| Subject: A page from Victor's childhood Tue Jun 16, 2009 2:32 am | |
| A page from Victor's childhood. He sat alone under the tree as he always did, the usual barrage of insults and taunting from the other boys having finally died down again. He didn’t cry though, no matter what they other children would say or do, he had no more tears and especially not for them. He sat alone under the tree as he always did for most of the day, his silent eyes watching the other children at play. He did not understand some of their games in truth, and he was not of a mind to try to. They ran back and forth kicking balls or chasing each other, all the while screaming at the top of their lungs. The one game he could grasp was when the boys would gather sticks and play war games. He enjoyed watching those games to a degree though he would never admit to them he wished to join in.
Alone he would sit there until the grown ups came out to tell the children it was time to come in and eat. He always waited until the woman came up to him herself and asked if he had gone deaf. He was lead into the main hall and then into the dinning area, the rest of the children already sitting and making noise as they ate. His bowl was given to him then filled and, once again, he moved to a corner to be alone while he ate.
It was much the same when it came time for the children of the orphanage to be put to sleep. Victor’s bed was, again, in the corner as he preferred and next to the window so he could see down into the yard outside. It was at times like this he new he was being watched, by eyes somehow sinister and, in a twisted way, caring. He didn’t like it, the way the eyes made him feel. He didn’t like the expectations that came with the gaze that fell on him on these nights because, somehow, it made him feel cold. “Victor,” he snapped to attention hearing his name and looked from the window quickly, “why are you still awake, child?”
His gaze was met by the kind face of a woman, an older woman who worked in the kitchens and let him have treats when he helped clean dishes. Seeing her was one of the few times he could smile. “And still staring out the window as well,” she gave him a motherly smile as she stood near his bed, sitting near the head of it as he knelt with both of his hands on the window seal, “you are dreamer, aren’t you? I imagine you will do great things when you grow up”. “Lady Maris,” Victor crawled under his sheets and looked up at her sadly, hoping she would know what is on his mind so he would not have to say it. “You felt those eyes again, dear?” “Yes… I don’t like them.” “Victor,” she knelt forward and brushed a few of his stray dark hairs from his forehead, “can you remember the day you came to live in the orphanage?” “Only that it was raining that day,” he looked up at the older woman with wondering eyes, not sure why she was bringing this up. “I knew then you were special,” her smile warmed as she looked down at him, “some day, you will come to see how and why… and then you can choose what to do with your gift.” “I have a gift, Lady Maris?” “Yes, and only you can decide what it is for, Victor.” Victor looked down at his sheets as he tried to understand what she was saying but grasped, at least a little, that the idea was too big for him right now. He rolled over in his bed toward Maris and gave a slightly content smile. She smiled in turn and rose to her feet, taking her candle in hand and making her way to the door and out of the boy’s room. The next day Victor went back to his tree after the children were fed breakfast, arms hugged around his legs as they were held against his chest and back against the tree trunk. He was taken slightly by surprise when one of the girls came walking over, he did not know her. He said nothing as she sat down next to him and looked at the other children. The silence hung in the air for a long time until she smiled at Victor. “What’s your name?” Victor said nothing and kept staring at the yard where the other children were playing. Her question hung in the air for a long moment before she began to lean to one side awkwardly to try and look at his face. “I’m Mil’is,” she tried smiling a little more pleasantly at Victor. “What do you want,” he asked quietly, not returning her look. “I want to know what your name is,” she seemed to get happier at the fact he had responded. He turned his gaze slowly to look at Mil’is, a sigh of resignation escaping his lips before his words. “Victor.” “How come you don’t play with the other boys?” “I don’t want to.” “Why?” “Because I don’t, that is all there is to it.” Mil’is frowned a little looking at Victor, folding her hands and resting them on her lap. Victor turned his silent gaze back on the other children playing away from them in the yard, the silence hanging in the air for a long moment until it looked like Mil’is was about to say something again. Her words were cut off by a call from the back kitchen door. “Victor!” He looked up to see Lady Maris standing there, her apron tied around her waist and a rag in her hands, probably cleaning flour and such off. Victor stood quickly and was about to go when his hand was taken suddenly. Turning to look at Mil’is for a moment in wonder as to why she would stop him. “Can we play together later, Victor?” her expression was hopeful. “I… I guess.” She released his hand, smiling cheerfully at him as he made his way to the kitchens to see what Lady Maris wanted. “Feel like earning your keep again,” she asked, a playful smile on her lips as she looked down at Victor. Victor nodded and readied himself for whatever chores she might be waiting to give to him. She handed him a few rags and pointed in the direction of the dishes. Victor might have smiled about the situation if he was not about to start working on dirty dishes. He worked silently, much the same way he did most everything else, and began piling the dishes up on the other tables. He was nearly finished, not as much work today and it surprised him, when he heard footsteps and voices. Preferring to not be seen most of the time, he ducked under a table and would have waited for them to pass, instead they continued their chattering on the other side of one of the tables rather close to where he hid. “That new little girl was talking to him, she was,” one of the woman said, “she would do best to avoid that boy, he’s got a bad omen on him.” “What ya mean by that?” “You haven’t heard how he came to be here,” the woman asked in a bit of astonishment. “Why no, only been here a few weeks now.” “Well,” the woman sounded rather pleased with herself suddenly, perhaps this was a bit of gossip she rather enjoyed sharing, “there used to be this nice old fella lived in town near by here, had himself a beautiful daughter too.” “What happened to’em?” “It was on to ‘bout ten years ago that something bad happened is what,” she nodded her head in a mocking attempt to seem sage-like, “some kind of mess happened as the old man and his daughter were coming back to town from a meeting in a bigger city, might have been Neverwinter or such, the old man was important to his faith and all.” “But what happened?” “No one knows rightly,” she bent forward, as if she were sharing a secret even if she spoke just as loudly, “but his daughter didn’t come back out of house for near onto another year. And when she did, she had a child in tow. He would only get angry if anyone asked questions and you could tell his girl was terrible sad ‘bout something.” “And? Then what?” “His daughter, poor dear, died not so long after, most say it was over a broken heart ‘bout something. It was almost the same night too when the house caught fire and the old man died too, say they found the boy squatting outside of it and speaking nonsense.” “Who was the boy then?” “Same lad we was just talking ‘bout, girl,” she stood straight again, acting indignant, “was no where else for him to go and the townspeople had nothing but respect for the man. Boys been living here since now but he has never taken a liking to the rest of the children ‘round here. Always sitting alone and such” “Except for today when that new girl went up to him then, yeah?” “That’s right, dear,” she picked up a rag to clean her hands off as she nodded again. The two began walking off, their voices still echoing into the kitchen to Victor as he remained huddled up under the table, a rag clenched tightly in his little fist. The house was burning, fire was dancing everywhere playfully and eating away at the wood. Victor stumbled through the flames, he was looking for his grandfather, his grandfather could stop it. A step broke under his foot as he tried going down the stairs and he tumbled forward, landing in a heap and wincing when he tried to rise again. A thunderous crash came from outside and gave him enough drive to get up again, finding the front doors open, he made his way out to see a new horror. His grandfather stood with brilliant white lights dancing around him and across from him stood some kind of monster. The horned beast and Victor’s grandfather both turned to see him leaving the burning house, the monster grinned and his grandfather snarled. “It seems your stalling me has done you nothing, old man,” the monster turned his grin on Victor’s grandfather. “I’ll kill him now then,” Victor’s eyes went wide as his grandfather suddenly turned his power from the beast to him. The monster had other plans, it’s large weapon rose up and cut the old man in half, an explosion of blood following. Victor stood dumb as the now cleaved body of his grandfather lay before him, life blood seeping from his chest and many other places. Victor was so struck numb that he did not notice the beast come closer and pick him up. Only then did his sense return and leave him crying bitterly. The monster did not care for his crying and spoke loudly to be heard. “He was going to kill you and you cry now that he is dead,” the beast might have been chuckling, it was hard for Victor to know, “you are going to have to become stronger then this before I cane take you home.” Victor lost himself in his tears and remained lost until he was shaken suddenly a large group of people had come seeing the fire. His grandfather’s body was not on the ground anymore and the house was beyond saving now. Victor was shaken suddenly again. Lady Maris was looking at Victor with a great deal of worry on her face. “Victor, answer me.” “Lady Maris,” Victor looked up at her, tears staining his cheeks as he suddenly felt a pain in his hand. She gasped seeing that the rag he had been clenching was wet with his blood, a hint of sizzles rising from it as she took it from his hand and made him come to the sink so she could clean his hand. Her face was still painted with worry as she looked at Victor. “What happened, Victor?” “Nothing,” was all he would say, gazing blankly in front of himself. She scowled but let it be for the moment, wrapping his hand with clean clothe where his nails had dug into his palm. To be Continued---> | |
| | | Dalsok Staff
Join date : 2009-04-29 Age : 38 Location : Norway
| Subject: Re: A page from Victor's childhood Tue Jun 16, 2009 2:32 am | |
| That night, Victor could not sleep. He sat in bed looking out the window again until he felt a hand on his, jumping slightly and turning to see who touched him. Mil’is stood smiling. “You said we could play later, Victor.” “It’s the middle of the night,” Victor looked puzzled. “Best time,” she giggled softly, her eyes beginning to take on a hint of red in their depths, “this way all those grown-ups can’t stop us.” Victor looked at her suspiciously. “You’re not a girl.” “Of course not,” she began to grow taller, her little dress becoming far more revealing as wings grew from her back, “but someone asked me to come play with you.” “Who sent you here?” “If you can not remember,” she grinned, leaning down to look him in the eye, “then I am not allowed to tell you.” She placed her hand on his chest and he was about to push her away when he felt something rush through him. An intensely warm feeling of power, a power he could not control. “Now, we are going to play,” she laughed as she faded from view. Victor looked in bewilderment at his hands, the cloth still wrapped about his hand burning away as he felt the warmth grow stronger and stronger until his bed caught aflame as well. Falling out off of it with a cry, he hit the floor sharply and reached up to rub his head. Looking where he feel he leapt to his feet, the wood was on fire as well. “I wonder why you couldn’t remember what happened until today.” Victor looked to the darkness of the room and saw two eyes watching him. “Yes, Victor,” the bodiless eyes laughed, “Now you can see me, now that I unlocked the seed in your heart.” Victor cried out and threw his hands up in front of himself, his body erupting in flames. The fire began playfully setting everything a blaze and Victor suddenly grew angry. “You,” he sneered through gritted teeth, “you killed my grandfather!” “Of my sins,” the bodiless eyes chuckled now, “that would be the least noteworthy.” The fires were growing and spreading out across the room, even out of it at this point, but Victor didn’t care anymore. He hated this monster and it could see that. This only amused it however. “Know your place, my whelp,” its presence slowly faded from view, “I will come for you when I believe you are ready.” The presence faded away and Victor was left alone with the fire he was just becoming aware of again. Looking around for only a moment, he ran to the door and out into the hallway, seeing how far the fire had gone he began to wonder how long he been standing there. The more he ran through the hallways the more the fires gave chase until the entire building seemed to be burning down. Nowhere else to run, he went to the stairs and toward the main doors but was stopped by a punch to his stomach. He dropped to his knees coughing, wincing as he looked up to see the thing that called itself Mil’is. “Just going to run off,” she asked looking down at him, “didn’t want to see all the fun you’re leaving behind for everyone else?” Victor was angry at first but suddenly frightened. Lady Maris. Still coughing he rose to his feet and turned toward the serving quarters. Running while he held his stomach and stumbling some of the way until he went through the kitchens, also on fire but the flames had only just reached this side. He turned to where the servants slept and tried opening the door. It wouldn’t move at first so he began banging his fist all the while crying out. “Lady Maris, wake up!” The door opened and Mil’is was there to greet him on the other side with a wicked grin. “She’s still sleeping,” the hint of a giggle hanging in her words, “but I don’t think you can wake her.” Victor didn’t care about Mil’is right now and ran past her to Maris’ bed, his eyes widening in horror and turning away quickly as his stomach nearly returned his dinner to him. Bent over the night stand by the bed, Victor wrestled with his stomach and began shaking. Not for fear or sorrow, but anger. Anger always came to him before sorrow did. He turned a furious glare at Mil’is who only stood there giggling playfully. Victor leapt at her, his voice raised in a roar of anger but she drifted back out of reach, very much laughing now at him now as she brought a hand up and licked fresh blood from a claw. “I’ll kill you,” Victor screamed. “You are welcome to try, whelp” she grinned mockingly at him, “You did say you would play with me after all.” Victor felt suddenly blind to anything but Mil’is, his world fading out in a deep shade of blood as he glared at her and only her. Mil’is was amused at first but suddenly grew wary of the boy in front of her. Victor’s body gave off the sickly stench of demonic power, his eyes shinning in a brilliant color of crimson as he threw his head back and cried out, a cry that came from that deepest part of him. “That is not from my master,” it was her turn to have her eyes go wide with horror. Surges of power flew out of the boy following his primal roar of rage, bolts of power striking Mil’is and throwing her back against a wall. His roar slowly faded out and Victor dropped to the floor, the red haze fading to black as he fell unconscious. Victor had no way of knowing how much later it was when he finally began to awake, quickly bringing a hand up to his head as a pounding headache made him wonder if he was better off still being asleep. Memories lazily floated back to mind and he slowly became aware of the fact he was not in a building right now. Slowly, his eyes opened and he began looking around. Trees then bushes and finally fire came into view. The orphanage was on fire. He was going to rise to his feet but nausea took that idea from him, instead slowly crawling to the edge of the cliff he was on and looking down. There was no saving the building, just like before and the villagers circled around looking for anyone who might have escaped. Victor began to cry again, holding his face in his hands as he wept bitter tears. The last tears he would shed for a very long time. | |
| | | | A page from Victor's childhood | |
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