He stands in the hallway, looking outside the window. Stars twinkle friendly in the sky, winking at him, inviting him into a stupor. Maker, he was tired. He was hardly twenty, and finally a templer. But Maker, watching mages was not what he had in mind when he pushed in at the young age of nine. He thought of adventure. He thought of thrill of chasing mages. He thought of saving young maidens and becoming a hero. But that was before he heard of the rules. The regulations. The vow.
So here he stood. Not running around on some adventure. Not chasing some mage. Not saving a young maiden or a hero. Instead, here he stood, past midnight, in clunky armor, tired. From what he found of the circle of mages was it was actually boring. All the students studies, ate, and slept, and did not need to be in that order. The only exciting thing that happened was the occasional misspell and something exploding (which for him was not any more fun).
So there, Cullen stood, feeling his eye lids droop despite his best effort. His mind told him to recite the chant, to perhaps move around and do some exercises, but sleep was so inviting. . .
A scream jolted him up. He quickly took a step back from the door he was near and stumbled, nearly falling against the wall. He looked down the hall, and quickly found himself to be the only one. Standing up with trembling legs he found himself thinking how much those ideas of hunting mages and becoming a hero was a boy's idle fantasy . . .
Swallowing he wrapped his hand around his sword hilt; with his free hand he swung the door open. What he found inside was a girl, no older then he was when he pushed off to Chantery. She looked at him wide green eyes, glistening with tears, she had long what looked like red – hair, but was fading into white, and beneath that hair poke out two elf ears. He released the hilt with a relieved sigh and felt embrassed, " s –sorry, I thought . . . w – well . . . " stepping out of the door way, he held up his hands in mock surrender, " I'll be going now. "
Turning away, and about to close the door, he felt a small hands in circling his wrist, a soft voice pleading, " Please! Don't go! " He looked at the girl this time - really looked - Her face was smudge with dirt, she was too - thin, all she wore was a large worn shirt that came down to her knees, scabs covered her knobby knees, and her feet were black with dirt. Under all the dirt, she could have been pretty, but her it was obscured but the splotchyness of crying, and the bit of snot that dribbled down her nose.
Sighing, Cullen kneeled down to her level and took a handkerchief, and held it to her nose, " Blow," he commanded softly, feeling rather ridiculous as she did as she told. " Now tell me, what's all the commotion? " the girl blushed making her pale skin glow, she shook her head sending red – white hair falling into her face. Maker, she's already magic – touched. She looked at him again, as though debating whether or not she should trust him. He was not surprise, she was obviously city – elf.
" I – will you promise not to tell the big men I . . . screamed? They'll get mad at me again, " she whimpered.
" I . . . yes? " They? Is she talking about . . . demons?
" I had a nightmare, " she sniffled again walking over to her bed, keeping a possessive grip on his wrist. " Usually, Knott sleeps with me, a – and comforts me – b – but she's not here, a – and they came back! " there was a small wail in her voice, and she looked as though she was about to cry. Cullen felt himself again back to being nervous, he hardly knew how to handle women his own age, let alone a girl of eight or nine.
" Get back into bed, " was his response, which he hoped sounded soothing, and not nervous. The girl nodded, but still his wrist was hers.
" They said, they were going to make them go away, to make the shadows stop following me, and the nightmare to stop telling me scary things, " she trembled, " But they didn't! We were on the road, and they didn't stop! The big man told me to shut up. And stop crying, " And the girl started sobbing. Cullen felt his brows furrow. Is this what Templers become? Heartless, and cruel, to a little girl dragged away from her home. Just because she was a mage? He felt his heart breaking under the little girl's tears, and dragged her into his lap and cradled her as she sobbed.
Never. He thought fiercely. Never will I be like that.
" Why are you being so nice? " she hiccups sleepily against his chest. He holds her tightly, thinking Maker, not this one. Make sure everything works for this child. Grant me that kindness.
To her he says, " I am not child. I am simply trying to keep those demons at bay. "
She stood in front of him nervous. Her long white hair, piled messily up on her head to the point a few strands fell in her face. There she stood, seventeen, pale, shy, and beautiful – and forbidden. He wondered how much she noticed his side – long glances, or the way his heart thudded in his chest, when a shy smile would curl up to her lips. He wanted to hug her, give her comfort, and tell her: everything is going to be ok. She was not the same little sobbing girl he had first met . . . she was, she is, everything to him.
She made it a point to bring him lunch every day, making shy small talk when she brought him his food. She always said " This is my debt, from that time thank you " in that sweet voice of hers. It was hard to imagine that demons could ever possess her, and turn her into a monster. Still here he is, on duty looking out for her. Just in case her harrowing goes wrong, he was the one to slay her. But he hoped that just in case would be a never. He could hardly imagine the life fading from her already to – pale cheeks.
She thinks he's there to wish her good luck.
She doesn't know that he might be the one to end it all.
She stops in front of him, her pale brows furrowed in worry, and her lips brought in a slight pout, " why are you brooding? I should be the one to brood, it's my harrowing. " she says lightly teasing, a small plead in her eyes, like the one she saw so long ago. The one that said tell me everything is going to be ok.
He attempted to smile, but felt his mouth drag. Suddenly he had caught her by the wrist dragging her in a tight hug. He could not feel her stiffen then relax, her head resting slightly on his armor. She smelt of herbs, old books, rain, and nature. He willed all of his power into her thinking Maker, I do not care if this is a sin, keep her ok. Bring her back for me! And to her, he simply mumbled, " To keep those demons at bay. "
[[ that magic is shows itself some how. :D
Knott is my fem!elf rouge. They're twins. c: ]]