Austriel looked carefully at the boy before her. He was asleep,
something that made her sigh in relief. He hadn't slept since they left
Silvery Moon. This boy was a speical case indeed for her. Paranoid and
unsure of himself. He had been a page for one of her knights until one
night, he was cleaning his master's sword and armor when he apparently
tried committing suicide by slitting his wrist.
Shivers ran cascaded down Austriel's spine when she recalled the twisted look on his face when she found him that night. He was sitting in the middle of one of the small court yards, where he would occasionally wonder. This night, Austriel was walking about to get some fresh air and heard some one mummbling softly. She walked up to him but he ignored her. His voice was eriee as he continued to mumble the words of some unknown song. She looked at his face, his gaze far off in a different world, then down to his right arm which he was holding over his knees with his left hand. Here, three neat gashes had been made, all three with blood pouring freely. Quickly she pulled out a potion bottle from her deep flowing robe pocket and grabbed the boy's hand. He didn't struggle nor did he look at her. She called for guards to escort the lad back to his room and she sent a messanger out for help that very moment.
She was pulled from her day dreams when a soft moan errupted from the boy infront of her. He looked so weak and fragile lying on the massive four poster bed. More moans came and she watched intently as his dark eyelids fluttered and his head tossed and turned. No matter how far from Silvery Moon they traveled, the dreams always would catch up behind him.
*****
Another morning, anopther day and once again the people of Calimport are doing whatever it is that they do.
*****
"Munky... Munky, wake uuu-" the young brunette was interrupted by the boy in question.
"I don't wanna wake up... go back to be-e-e-ed..." With that, Munky disemerged back into his blankets. The only thing left to show that there was indeed a living being under those blankets was Munky's pile of two toned dread locks.
Quietly, Reggie shut the trap door above him. Looking at the three forms wrapped in rags, he went over to the mirror and took a look at himself.
He gazed at his hazel eyes, his dark skin and fient goatee just starting to form on his chin. He looked back at his sleeping friends behind him. The wererats weren't too happy last night. Of coarse they still paid him but only half the amount agreed upon.
Life's hard, he thought to himself. But that's why only the strongest survive. He the remambered an offer that had been made back when he was younger, back when his brother Jesse was alive. The boss of the elven guild, Veda, had offered him and his brother a spot in the guild. At the time Jesse had declined, but maybe Erthrose would forget the past and adopt Reggie and and the others into the guild. You know what that would mena, he thought to himself, food, water, clothes... he smiled to himself, clothes, Head would like that, and a real room with warm, soft, dry beds. that would mean relative safty for the time being.
he sighed and went back to the door. He smirked and went back out the trap door, careful as always, not to wake his fellow brothers of the street. Today, they would get a real breakfast, and just to spoil them, he thought to himself, they won't even have to leave the allyway. Covering his smirk with a determined glare, he headed out into the market.
*****
The room was dark when Jonathan awoke. The windows were covered much to his pleasure, and he was alone. Carefully he sat up and tested his strength by stretching out and gingerly he cracked his neck. Slowly he slid out of the large bed with its deep maroon covers and clumsily walked over to the full length mirror standing across from the bed to look himself over.
Before him stood a tall, lean and ghostly looking creature. His long thick black hair had no luster to it, not that it ever did, but he looked sicker then ever. He decided not to worry about that and went on looking over his slightly toned arms, back and stomach.
Staring at his face, he saw feint traces of acne and the startings of a mustache and heard playing on his face. He looked himself over again with a grim satisfaction, taking note of all the scarrs that covered his body. All but one of them were his own doing. Fine lines and dots on his stomache formed the written scripture of a long forgotten tongue. A tyraid of others, all different shapes and sizes decorated the rest of him.
Standing there nude infront of the mirror, he looked at the thin line of black hairs that trailed from his navel down to his growing manhood. He shivered as memories from the recent past resurfaced in his mind. He quickly turned away from the mirror and started to look for his clothes and get dressed.
*****
Shivers ran cascaded down Austriel's spine when she recalled the twisted look on his face when she found him that night. He was sitting in the middle of one of the small court yards, where he would occasionally wonder. This night, Austriel was walking about to get some fresh air and heard some one mummbling softly. She walked up to him but he ignored her. His voice was eriee as he continued to mumble the words of some unknown song. She looked at his face, his gaze far off in a different world, then down to his right arm which he was holding over his knees with his left hand. Here, three neat gashes had been made, all three with blood pouring freely. Quickly she pulled out a potion bottle from her deep flowing robe pocket and grabbed the boy's hand. He didn't struggle nor did he look at her. She called for guards to escort the lad back to his room and she sent a messanger out for help that very moment.
She was pulled from her day dreams when a soft moan errupted from the boy infront of her. He looked so weak and fragile lying on the massive four poster bed. More moans came and she watched intently as his dark eyelids fluttered and his head tossed and turned. No matter how far from Silvery Moon they traveled, the dreams always would catch up behind him.
*****
Another morning, anopther day and once again the people of Calimport are doing whatever it is that they do.
*****
"Munky... Munky, wake uuu-" the young brunette was interrupted by the boy in question.
"I don't wanna wake up... go back to be-e-e-ed..." With that, Munky disemerged back into his blankets. The only thing left to show that there was indeed a living being under those blankets was Munky's pile of two toned dread locks.
Quietly, Reggie shut the trap door above him. Looking at the three forms wrapped in rags, he went over to the mirror and took a look at himself.
He gazed at his hazel eyes, his dark skin and fient goatee just starting to form on his chin. He looked back at his sleeping friends behind him. The wererats weren't too happy last night. Of coarse they still paid him but only half the amount agreed upon.
Life's hard, he thought to himself. But that's why only the strongest survive. He the remambered an offer that had been made back when he was younger, back when his brother Jesse was alive. The boss of the elven guild, Veda, had offered him and his brother a spot in the guild. At the time Jesse had declined, but maybe Erthrose would forget the past and adopt Reggie and and the others into the guild. You know what that would mena, he thought to himself, food, water, clothes... he smiled to himself, clothes, Head would like that, and a real room with warm, soft, dry beds. that would mean relative safty for the time being.
he sighed and went back to the door. He smirked and went back out the trap door, careful as always, not to wake his fellow brothers of the street. Today, they would get a real breakfast, and just to spoil them, he thought to himself, they won't even have to leave the allyway. Covering his smirk with a determined glare, he headed out into the market.
*****
The room was dark when Jonathan awoke. The windows were covered much to his pleasure, and he was alone. Carefully he sat up and tested his strength by stretching out and gingerly he cracked his neck. Slowly he slid out of the large bed with its deep maroon covers and clumsily walked over to the full length mirror standing across from the bed to look himself over.
Before him stood a tall, lean and ghostly looking creature. His long thick black hair had no luster to it, not that it ever did, but he looked sicker then ever. He decided not to worry about that and went on looking over his slightly toned arms, back and stomach.
Staring at his face, he saw feint traces of acne and the startings of a mustache and heard playing on his face. He looked himself over again with a grim satisfaction, taking note of all the scarrs that covered his body. All but one of them were his own doing. Fine lines and dots on his stomache formed the written scripture of a long forgotten tongue. A tyraid of others, all different shapes and sizes decorated the rest of him.
Standing there nude infront of the mirror, he looked at the thin line of black hairs that trailed from his navel down to his growing manhood. He shivered as memories from the recent past resurfaced in his mind. He quickly turned away from the mirror and started to look for his clothes and get dressed.
*****