Chapter 6
Belthor sat quietly at the river bank, not far from where he had been found...he didn't like going near the water but the sound of it soothed him...like a memory just out of reach. He knew not how many years had passed since he had been found, but it seemed such a short time. Everyone around him aged and died...yet he remained unchanged. It frustrated him, and caused the villagers to hate him more. Oh they hated him...well most of them. None bothered to hide this hate. He could not go out of the house without something being said, or someone beating him in some way and the same magic that protected the village also stopped him from leaving.
"You are restless Belthor," said Taria softly. She had aged greatly; her grey hair was loosely tied back and fell over her careworn face which gazed warmly at him. She had defended him so many times when the rest of the village doubted him, he was truly grateful to her. "What is wrong?"
"I-I don't know..." he muttered.
"You are not happy here?" she asked sitting by him.
"No...I mean yes...I mean...you have been so good to me, I will be ever grateful to you, for all that you have done for me but...but I feel there is a part of me missing...my family...where I come from...I just have to know...but I cannot leave this place..." he trailed off.
"I'll speak with Lord Arnen tomorrow about letting you leave...you will be ever welcome in my home Belthor." She smiled softly.
"Thank you Taria, I am ever in your debt." He smiled as she left him to his own thoughts.