/* A/N: Well this is my first story to . I should warn everyone that
* it's going to be long...I don't do short very well, I'm afraid. This is
* basicly the life-up-to-now of a Character I've roleplayed for 10 years,
* 7 of which have been online in various forums. That said, some elements
* might be familiar to some readers. So before we go any farther:
#ifdef COPYRIGHTED_STUFF
#define DISCLAIMER "DragonLance is owned by Wizards of the Coast, Margaret
Weis, and Tracy Hickman. RhyDin is owned by America
Online Incorporated. I don't claim to own any of these
settings or the characters within them. My character
just passed through. ;)"
#endif
/* Now that that is done, I would like to say 'enjoy the show,' and please
* drop a review or contact me with comments or
* criticisms. I respond to all constructive emails :) Flames will be routed
* to /dev/null though. Anyway, enough of my babble. Enjoy!
Chapter I: Unveiling the Mirror
* A firm hand dipped the quill into the ink and then applied it with careful
accuracy to the parchment upon the battered wooden desk that he sat at.
Tired eyes gazed down at the first word he wrote upon the browning paper.
"Peace."
* He smiled softly, sadly, and paused a moment as if recalling a hundred,
million memories all in the span of a few seconds, and then continued
writing...
Peace.
It is all I've sought for my life. Peace for my soul, peace for my mind.
One would think that it is not a hard thing to find, but I would beg to
differ. I am getting ahead of myself though. Those that know me are aware
of my ability to digress quickly and lose myself. For you, good reader, I
will do my best to avoid such diversions and thank you for opening these
pages. I have never considered myself worthy of being recorded in the
annals of history, nor do I deserve that honor now; what I write here, I
write for my own peace of mind and more so for those I knew, those I've
lost, and those I wish to be remembered long after I depart this world.
My name is Kylus Dragonsbane, and since the year 466 of the Arangothian
Calendar, I have served the kingdom of Arangoth as the Royal Priest. But I
am not a native of this great kingdom; I am a wanderer, cast away from my
home. My home, you ask? The western regions of the continent of Ansalon.
Again I digress; please forgive me, and I shall start at the beginning.
The Dragonsbane family is a relatively old line in my homeland. Despite
our name, the recent generations that I was told of had nothing to do with
the slaying or conflict with the Gods' Children (dragons). My father told
me of the start of our line, back in the days of the Cataclysm, when a
young man took up a sharpened stick and drove it into the chest of a white
dragon that had fled the destruction of Istar and sought to terrorize the
people on its way to colder regions. Alas, neither my father, his father,
or myself are such brave men as the first, and I unfortunately cannot say
anymore about the matter, for the knowledge was never given to me.
My birth was not an event to be remembered. My father, Kail Dragonsbane,
was a metalsmith and jeweler who ran an average shop with above average
skill in both craftsmanship and business sense. My mother...my mother was
named Talia E`liara, and she was an exile from the xenophobic kingdom of
Silvanesti, home to the High Elves. How these two individuals met and fell
in love is known only to the Gods, for I was never told the tale, and any
who knew it are lost to me now. The prejudices that exist in today's world
were more than prevalent in my homeland. My mother was feared by the other
humans that lived in our town, and my father was not a strong man. He
believed, sadly, that if he ignored a problem long enough it would go
away.
It was that belief and the continued persecution of my mother that caused
her to flee back to Silvanesti to seek sanctuary. I would, many years
later, learn that she had indeed obtained it, but from the age of three
until I departed my home, I did not know my mother. I grew up mostly
alone, for the other children did not like to associate with 'the
half-breed' (though my Elven blood did not shine through in the form of
pointed ears and delicate features; if it had, I may not be here to write
this, my friend). Subsequently, growing up was often-times a difficult
matter for both myself and my father. Half-Elves, as you may imagine,
mature at a much slower rate than humans. My father was sometimes at his
wit's end when I could not seem to meet up to his expectations. I do not
blame him for his lack of patience though; he was a skilled man with
metal, but his knowledge of other cultures and people was nonexistent. I
did the best I could for him though, for I did love him very much. He
taught me what he could, though I dare say my jewelery-making skills have
deteriorated over the long years.
I was fortunate enough to attend the school present in the town. My father
was well off thanks to his skills, and the schoolmaster was a far more
tolerant man than any other in that pit of unfortunate ignorance. I
focused on learning and education as best I could, since I adamantly
believed that it would open a path out of that town. I learned the Common
Tongue quickly and properly, learned the basics of mathematics, and even
learned to speak the rudiments of my mother's native language, thanks to
private sessions with the schoolmaster, who I discovered (many years later
when I was able to logic the pieces together), was of a similar bloodline
as myself. Knowledge and education became the basis for my continued
existence in that western town. My father taught me what he knew of
business and metalworking, but I did not take to it as much as he would
have liked. Still, he was relatively pleased to see that he obtained his
money's worth out of the school. We were both relatively content; my
father had his business and his reputation kept most of the town away from
me. I was left alone to pursue my studies in peace (not that had I a wish
to bother anyone to begin with...far from it).
Life continued as such for 18 more years. I was 21, a child to the Elves,
and teaching from the shadows at the school I loved when my life took a
drastic turn. Perhaps if I had the foresight I have now, I might have
known such a thing was going to occur. But the young are generally too
concerned with the future and where they are going to see what is right in
front of them. I had returned from the school as the sun had set, as I
usually did. My father, oddly enough, was waiting for me at the table, a
slight smile on his face as he waved me to come in and sit down. There was
food at the table, another odditity since he usually ate long before I
returned from study.
"Father?" I'd asked, the confusion so apparent in my voice that he had to
chuckle.
"What is the matter?" he asked gruffly, though I could tell by the look in
his eye that he was not upset. Amused was more like it, "Can't a father
sit down for once with his only son for a meal?"
"I...of course he can..I mean of course it's just..." I stammered and he
only chuckled harder. I gave up attempting to figure out what was going
on. It was not my birthday (and it usually was not cause for celebration
anyway), and I could not think of any other good reason why he would do
something so blatantly..fatherly. I sat down and served him, then myself,
and we ate in silence for a very long time before Kail broke it with a
soft voice.
"Kylus..."
"Aye, Father?" I asked him, swallowing quickly as he gave me a stern look
for talking with my mouth full.
"You know I love you and your mother very much, eh?" he admitted flatly. I
nearly choked on the last bit of food from my plate! Never in 20 years had
I ever heard him say he loved me, much less my mother. I set my fork down
and stared at him.
"Father are you all right?" I asked bluntly. He smiled and nodded, saying
to me, "Aye son I'm all right. I just needed to make sure you knew that.
I've not said it too often, if ever, and I needed to say it at least
once." he said, clearing his throat, "You're a young man now, at least by
human standards, and you'll be off on your own before you know it. I just
wanted to make sure you knew that I loved you, son."
"There'll be plenty of times for that, Father." I said, my puzzlment over
the sudden admission of the gruff man I'd lived with drowned out by a
sense of warmth so strong that it masked the chill I felt going up my
spine (for part of me wondered why after all this time, but the greater
part of my being told it to hush). "But I know you do...and I know you
loved mother. We both love you too." I said, feeling that I could safely
speak of my mother without him losing himself to anger or grief, as he was
prone to do in the past.
"Ye got studying early again tomorrow, aye?" he said suddenly. I nodded
and he waved me away, "I'll clean up then. Good night, son." I blinked,
but nodded again, murmuring good night to my father and leaving him in the
front room at the table. I found my bed in my room past his and all but
collapsed on it, the weight of the day, good food, and my father's candid
admissions crashing on me and lulling me to sleep quite quickly.
***
I awoke just before dawn as usual. The school was not in session today but
that would not stop me from going there and continuing the work I'd left
unfinished the night before. I yawned as I crawled out of bed and splashed
some water from the wash basin onto my face to wake up. Pulling a tunic
over my head I stepped out of my room and paused, glancing at my father's
bedroom. The door was open and the bed made. It was not like him to be up
this early.
"Father?" I called out, stifling another yawn as I made my way into the
front room. Judging by the chill in the room, the hearth had gone cold. I
saw the table, with the dishes still dirty and where we'd left them last
night. And then I saw my father, head down, sitting in the chair. I shook
my head; it'd been a long time since he'd dozed at the table. I smiled and
shook his shoulder gently.
"Father, get up." his head lolled a bit and I frowned as the fingers of
dread gripped my spine. I knew it already, but my voice still came once
more in a faint, hopeless whisper.
"Father..?"
***
"His heart, son." my schoolmaster said softly as he laid a hand on my
shoulder, "Kail had a weak heart. He never mentioned it to you?" I shook
my head mechanically as my eyes focused on the two men that were bearing
my father's body out of the house. My teacher sighed softly and said,
"Come...we'll find a peaceful spot for him, Kylus."
And we did. I did not have much coin to my name, but I did give a few of
the cut stones that father had prepared for future works to the gravesman,
something that ensured my father would be comfortable for his last
journey. I stayed at the site a very long time-from noon until the sun
dropped down behind the hills around the village-staring at the
newly-engraved headstone and thinking about the conversation that had
taken 21 years to come into being, and only 3 moments to pass.
'...you'll be off on your own before you know it..' he had said to me. Had
he known? To this day I wonder if my father had somehow known his own end
was coming about. Perhaps the Gods had granted him his way to make peace
bluntly before They took him home. I suppose it is not for me to ask
though; I am only thankful we had those few moments that night in our home
together. "Thank you, Father."
When at last I decided to leave the grave site, it was dark and the moons
were high in the night sky. I was lost in my thoughts, unsure of what I
was going to do at this point. I enjoyed my learning, but surely now I
would have to continue my father's business at least until I could settle
his affairs, and save enough money to perhaps travel to the northeast to
Palanthas, where a larger school was based.
The town seemed to have already made up its mind for me though.
When I arrived at my home I found the shutters on the windows broken, the
door kicked in, and people milling around the front as if it were on sale.
People, some who I'd known all my life, were pulling things from my home
and walking off as if they owned them. I felt anger boiling inside of me
and I stormed through the crowd, shoving and elbowing my way past the
thieves and up the stairs into my home. "What is the meaning of this!?" I
demanded to the Elder, who I found inside, his fingers clenching some of
my father's unfinished works.
"Yer father is dead, boy." the man snapped back to me, "Since ye got no
rights on this stuff, it's every man for himself!"
"What do you mean I have no rights?" I snarled at the Elder, resisting the
urge the lunge at him and wrap my fingers around his neck, "He was my
father and I am his heir! This is my property!"
"Half-breeds don't get property!" he snapped, nodding to two of the
burlier townspeople that had joined in the piracy. I felt hands on my
shoulders and arms and before I could react, I was being dragged out of my
own home and thrown into the street, much to the amusement of everyone
gathered outside.
"Get out of here!"
"..ain't got your father to hide behind anymore!"
"...worthless halfbreed.."
"...should stretch his neck.."
"Run after your mother, whelp!"
The insults hurt far less than the impact on the ground, or the
realization of what had just occurred crashing down upon me: I had been
thrown from my own home, everything I owned taken from me, and the only
family I had lost to me, gone home to the Gods. The world was spinning as
I tried to stand myself up, intent on going back into -my- house and
teaching the Elder what a 'half-breed' could do, but for some reason the
ground would not stay under my feet. My face was wet-were those
tears?-and the next thing I knew, the ground and my head were
well-acquainted once more.
***
I awoke to candlelight and the soft scuffling of cloth. For a moment I
thought it had all been a dream. Then my eyes focused, and I realized
where I was.
"The school...?" I blurted out slowly, more than little confused. How did
I get here?
"I brought you here." came the familiar voice of my teacher in answer to
my silent question. I turned my head over my shoulder and glanced at his
face, the lines of worry highlighted by the candle he held in his hand.
"You have to leave, Kylus."
"Leave?" I stammered, "Leave where? Just where am I supposed to go?" I
demanded, the realization that it had not been a dream coming back to me
and the words of my teacher causing the anger to flare up within me again.
The more rational part of my being told me I was acting like a child, but
that voice was drowned out by the voice of despair. "I have nowhere to go
and nothing to take with me." I snapped at the schoolmaster.
"Not quite." he said, his voice gentle, caring, eyes filled with
compassion. He pointed behind the palette I was on, and I glanced over to
see a bundle of cloth. Opening it, I gasped at the contents: things of my
father's from the house. My father's sapphire ring, a wedding present from
my mother to him, along with a pouch of coins, some clothes, a few of my
books, and something that almost made my heart stop. It was a small wooden
plaque, the front plated with bronze and silver and worked over with
colored enamels into the...
"...family crest." I blurted out, taking it into my hands and cradling it
as if it were a small child. I looked up to my teacher, my jaw clenching
as I fought to quell the emotions that were brimming within me, "How?" was
all I managed before my lips closed tightly once more.
"I feared this would happen." he said back to me softly, "So after we
brought your father, I rushed back to the house and took what I thought
you would need, son. I don't know if it will be enough, but it should get
you south."
"South?" I asked.
"Aye," he nodded firmly, "There is a temple to the south east, run by
priests. I think they will be able to help you continue your studies."
"But, I don't want to leave!" I blurted out, "This is my home, and I want
to stay here." I was not leaving! If they wanted me gone they were going
to have to kill me and toss my corpse beyond the borders of the town!
"You have to go, son." my teacher said sharply, "Aside from the fact that
I can't teach you anything new, the wild rumors about riches hidden with
Elven magic have already started. If they find you now they'll beat you
until you tell them whatever they want to hear. You need to leave!"
There was a heavy silence between us for long, agonizing moments, broken
only by my heavy breathing as I fought the urge to succumb to the hysteria
unleashed this morning with my father's passing. I clenched my teeth,
fighting it down and saying in a stiff, monotone voice, "How far is this
temple?"
"I'm not certain. Many days to the south, son." my teacher replied, relief
flooding his eyes as I acquiesced to his will, "I've packed food for you,
and you should hit some towns on the way that will be able to buy some of
your father's works for extra coin. It's dark now, so you should go before
they come looking for you."
"Master..." I started to choke out, but he silenced me with a wave of his
hand.
"Just go, Kylus!" he said sharply, "Just go! Trust no one until you find
the priests in the south! Now off with you before they come!"
I could feel the tears welling in my eyes; the events of the day were
culminating at the end of my teacher's hand, which pointed towards the
back door of the school in a final gesture. I swallowed hard and ran
towards the man, embracing him in a quick, tight hug.
"Good bye, Master." I said raggedly. I felt his hand on my head and I
knew he had the soft smile on his face though I couldn't bear to look up
at him lest I lose my resolve and demand to stay again. "Thank you.."
"Good bye, son." he said as he let go of me and force me from him, "You're
a good boy, Kylus, and your father was too. Don't ever let anyone tell you
otherwise. Go out and show them what you can become. Go now quick..quick!"
With a last wave, I grabbed the pouch full of the remnants of my life and
vanished out the door of the school.
***
By the time I turned my head back to look at my home town, I could barely
make out the tiny pinpricks of orange light that were the torches carried
by the greedy, ignorant fools who, as my teacher had predicted, were now
combing the town in search of the 'Elven-hid treasure' they wanted to
believe my Mother hid in our property. I stood on a hill, watching the
lights dance about for a few moments, my face streaked with the tears I'd
refused to shed in front of the one man I still respected in that place. A
small part of me wanted to rush back in and take revenge for the insults
they cast at me, but the greater part of me was in charge now and that
voice told me to follow the Master's instructions, and go south. Things
would certainly be better in the south, away from this blind hatred and
ignorance...wouldn't they?
I picked up a stick and threaded it through the end of the pouch. Slinging
it over my shoulder, I gave one last look at the town, which was shadowed
by the faintest hint of the coming dawn. Then I looked ahead of me, down
the road that would connect with the Southern Highway. The peace I'd had
in this place was shattered, and as I closed the first chapter of my life,
I looked forward to finding it again in another place, away from here.
'Go out and show them what you can become.'
- To Be Continued...