Rain, thunder, darkened skies, it all seemed like a tasteless joke to the hooded warrior who continued to walk down the mossy stoned path as night fell. It didn't take the figure long to find himself where his childhood ended. The homestead looked no different from before, abit the gardens were overgrown, broken fences and flickering outside lanterns.

The figure removed his hood, not caring for the rain. A White Dragonborn with red eyes, small horns and small red frills on his head. His attire was scaled armour, mixed with black leather boots and scaly silver gauntlets. A hooded cloak was held by the strap of his sword and sheath, keeping it secure. A piece of him hoped that his abusive father had dropped dead and his mother had broken away from his infulence. It was wishful thinking, but now wasn't the time to think of what ifs.

It was time to see what had happened to his home. He passed through the gate, walking by the rundown shed where he would spend time with his older sibling away from their father. The memories were faint with, building of bonds. His missed his sibling dearly, but was hopeful that they lived the best life possible, happier, and were accepted for who they were. Upon reaching the door, he knocked four times. Twenty seconds later, nothing. He touched the handle and pushed, the door was barely hanging by its hinges.

"Typical. Never fixed the damn door." The White Dragonborn said as he entered, his eyes scanning the hallway. It looked as if someone still lived in the house, the paintings on the walls were tearing, the dimmed lanterns illuminating the way. Walking into the living room, he recognized the old table he once sat with his sibling and mother. The old mahogany table where dinner was held, and the constant belittlement from his father echoed inside his mind. Shaking his head, he continued to look around the house, starting with his and his sibling's bedroom. The door was long gone, likely ripped off the frame by his old man in some rage after discovering his son ran away. In his mind, he did the right thing, but saddened to leave his mother behind. His focus was disrupted by a sudden noise below, the first instinct was to draw his sword, controlling his breathing as he looked for the source of the sound.

"The basement. . ." He deduced, soon realising the sound were moans of discomfort and possibly pain. Finding the door, he pulled the handle. "Locked. . . not for long." With several kicks to the door knob, he broke it open, not caring for the loud slam of wood hitting the staircase. With cautious steps, he surveyed his surroundings, scrunching his nose at the smell of god knows what. With a deep sigh, he continued going down, the dim lights barely illuminating the ground.

He stopped. His eyes looking at the familiar figure chained to the wall, their breathing sounding hoarse and struggling. Without hesitation, he used his sword to hack at the chain and with little effort, broke them. The figure was grabbed before they could touch the ground, groaning as their eyes could open barely.

"Mother. . . Mother it's me, Kain. . ." Kain whispered, holding her close. Her clothes were ragged and torn, her body covered in cuts, bruises and her arms were skinny, indicating a lack of nourishment. She moved her head slightly up with whatever strength she had.

"K-ain." She struggled out, "You've. . . Grown up." A small smile reached her lips, as did his.

Kain lifted her up, bringing her upstairs to the living room. "It's ok Mother, I'm here now. . . I promised you I'd come and get you out." He placed her on an old chair, grabbing his flask of water from his belt, carefully feeding her.

His mother took in as much as she could before coughing, "Oh Kain. . . You look so different now." She cupped his face and looked at him, smiling. "You can leave me here sweetheart. . . I've no strength left."

Kain shook his head in refusal, "Never again. I can take you to a doctor, we can get you help." He held her hand, squeezing softly. "I. . . I've spoken to my sister too. She's happy that I've reached her out and, she's shown me her husband and son through a sketch. . ." His speech was hurried with excitement mixed with worry for his mother.

"I'm. . . Happy Kain. You've got your family now. . ." She said, her breathing became less frequent, "Remember where I wanted to have a pyre?" She asked him. He silently accepted that his mother wasn't going to make it, even if they reached a doctor. He nodded, tightening his grip.

Kain kissed the top of her head and said, "The small hill with the oaken tree and the bed of blue roses. Mother. . . Please stay. . ." He shivered as he pleaded, even if it was for nought. The Mother merely smiled.

"Proud of you both. . . My son and . . . daughter." Her last words before her eyes closed, the last breath leaving her now empty body. Kain lowered his head and sighed, keeping his composure as his mentors taught him to control his emotions. He could sense that someone was watching him, that feeling he felt too many times as a child returned. Standing up, he took a deep breath, turning to see the one person who he hoped had long died.

His Father sat on a rotted leather seating, holding a fire poker, his older features visible from the flickering lights above. He wore musty old clothes, brown boots, and a pair of blacksmith gloves. "So. . . The little brat comes home." His words were laced with spite, "Of all the biggest dissapointments, you truly are a magnificent specimen."

Kain stared at his old man and responded, "Yet I've made something of myself without you belittling everything I've ever done. What kind of father can't even praise or encourage their own children? Oh wait, you fit that category-"

His Father snapped back, "The kind of father who did his best to discipline the ungrateful little shits who belonged in a cage! Your brother wouldn't have turned into a freak had I put him in his place."

The Youngest spoke with a calm tone, "You mean my sister. You would do well to respect her. That's right old man, I know why you threw my sister out. You could never accept that she embraced her true self, because of your pathetic ways of life, so you kicked her out." He took a few steps forward, standing firmly.

The Father scoffed, "These ways of life are what we were intended for! To breed and to create a better, stronger and smarter kind. Not to let ourselves indulge in disgusting forms of debauchery." He looked at his son's armour, "What kind of weakling chooses such a pathetic outfit? You think you're a real warrior now boy?" He stood up, gripping the fire poker tightly.

Kain took another step forward, facing his Father directly. "What kind of man chains his wife into a basement with little food and water?" He asked as he pointed to the resting body, "Better yet, what kind of monster is he when he neglects his family with no remorse?" He added, waiting for his father to respond.

"The kind that should've snuffed you out whilst you were still in your mother's womb!" He spat out, getting into Kain's personal space, his cold breath hitting his son's face with no effect. He looked ready to attack. "Your mother was too soft on you both, now look at you. A freak and a thug."

Kain smirked, "You know when I was a boy I was scared of you. I couldn't sleep sometimes knowing you were there just looking at me with disgust. But now? I feel nothing." With a fierce kick to his knee, Kain grabbed his father's wrist, twisting it which forced him to let go of the poker. "All I can see is a monster who killed my mother. . ." He sharply spoke, picking his target up by the collar and throwing him to the wall. The ornaments fell off the shelf and crumbled onto the ground, the father grunted as he felt a sharp piece of clay jab into his shoulder.

He pulled it out and unsheathed an ornate dagger, engraved with draconic writings. Struggling to stand up, he looked dead into Kain's eyes, which looked back with emptiness. He charged towards his son with the dagger in tow, ready to stab Kain with malice. The silence that followed was erie, with Kain gripping onto the hilt of his sword, staring blankly at his now shocked father, who looked down to see his own blood leaking out of his stomach. He attempted to speak, only to whinge in pain by the twisting blade.

Kain looked at his father with a small hint of sorrow at first, but turning to a blank state and said, "I'm a monster hunter "father", and I won't let you harm another life ever again. . ." With a strong pull, the blade was released, the blood splattering Kain's face as he let his father drop to the floor. He stared at the corpse, wiping his bloodied sword with his arm before returning it to its sheath.

An hour later, the homestead could be seen aflame from the hill that Kain's mother mentioned, whose body was now placed in a makeshift pyre with wood and brick. Kain lit a torch, holding it as he looked at his mother once more. In her final moments, the smile that greeted him as a child was there again. Kain smiled, planting a kiss on the top of her head and whispered, "May you rest peacefully mother. . ."

As he watched the pyre burn, tears formed as he remembered those brief moments of love from his mother. She was kind, caring and smart, but was forced to bow down to her cruel husband who married her only because she was pregnant. In the end, it was Kain who set her free, and the father could no longer harm him, for he would be nothing but ashes by the time the fire was finished.

As night dragged on, The White Dragonborn sat under the tree as the pyre continued to burn for a little longer, writing out a letter to be given to his sister, informing her of the death of her mother and his hand in dealing with their father. His sister's eventual response took him by surprise. From the letter, his sister told him not to let guilt take control and that he had only stood up to a monster who murdered their mother. Her words were also one of encouragement, to protect those who need his help, to harness his power and use it justly, and to stay strong no matter what. She left him a sketching of his nephew, who left a note beside it saying. . .

"For Uncle Kain."

End of Story

Author's Notes:

A new DnD Character's piece of backstory I've been working on. He's a White Dragonborn Blood Hunter named Kain, a reference to the titular character; Kain from the Legacy of Kain franchise.