Difference between revisions of "LongestRoad Ellowyn"

Revision as of 15:41, 19 August 2007

Well, I was going to put something up here before someone else put up something snide. It was actually coming out okay, but like an idiot, I didn't save, and it got lost by my lovely craptop and its complete lack of battery life.

Such things are very encouraging. I have had a bad week already. I will rehash it later.

Short Version

Ellowyn. E-L-L-O-W-Y-N. Sorcerer pretty-boy outcast type. Goes around pretending to be blind in public 'cause his eyes are a funny color.

Background

The Pevishan race has a very close connection to magic. Pevishan are born marked with a color -- hair, eyes and tattoo-like birthmarks -- that corresponds to a school of magic. They exhibit innate abilities to detect and resist this type of magic, and have great facility with it when trained as arcane spellcasters.

I am Pevishan. Like my parents and grandparents, I was born with soft, downy dark green hair, and intricate green markings across my face, neck, chest, arms, hands and legs. My parents were quite proud of their firstborn son -- until I opened my deep crimson eyes.

My parents called me Lakash, but no great announcement was made of my birth. No one in the village had ever heard of, let alone seen, a mismatched child. I grew up mainly alone with my family, and did not often play with other children. When I did, they invariably teased me. Children can be so cruel. Always, always I wished for the same beautiful green eyes my parents had. As I grew up, I often overheard the hushed discussions about whether I would ever develop the magical talent that the other children often displayed, and what form it might take -- usually with a note of honest love and concern in my parents' voices, and the twang of a gossiper's tonuge in the words of others. My mother gave me lessons, when she had time between afternoon chores, about the basic magic she knew, but I never went to school. When I was old enough to pay attention to the interactions the village adults had with my parents, I started realizing that they were treated poorly because of me. I began to wish I could just fade out of their lives, but I knew how loney my parents would be. One night, overhearing my parents' conversation in the next room, I learned that my mother was going to have another child. I listend quietly as my parents shared their hopes and fears.

"Much as I love our darling Lakash, I don't know if I can handle another child quite so terribly unique," my mother said wearily.

"I know, love. I'm sure the baby will be fine." My father's voice sounded tired as well.

"Midwife Alaine may not wish to come back. She hardly speaks to me."

"Maybe there is a way to start over. I know it won't be easy, with a baby on the way, but we could move. The village Odamra came from, that he speaks so highly of, is a good two months west of here. If we sold the house, we could get a wagon and supplies. We could start again. Think about it?"

"You may be right, sweetie. Maybe that's what we need."

There was a empty silence, and I could hear plainly what they didn't say. With a misfit child, going somewhere new wouldn't be enough. I waited until I was sure they were asleep, and then got up and dressed myself. I packed some food, took a knife and a waterskin, and with a shaky hand penned a simple note to my parents. I left the village and snuck across the fields to the nearby woods. I waited there until almost sunrise. When I closed my eyes, I could almost feel my mother's tears when she picked up the single piece of parchment with a childish scrawl that simply said "I love you." As the sun came up, I turned into the woods, and started walking.

I spent weeks walking through the forest, staying away from roads. Eventually, I came to an open field with a bustling town and a main road through it all. After a moment's thought, I found a stick I could use as a walking stick, ripped a strip off my shirt, and bound my eyes. I walked hesitantly to the edge of the main road, and headed through the village. I was able to beg a few coins, as a blind orphan, and buy more food. But the town was loud and busy, and I found I preferred the woods. So I left this town behind me, and continued through the woods.

One night, as I slept, I began to have strange dreams, and woke sweating and cold. Fitfully, I slept again, only to feel worse when I awoke again. I stayed ensconced at the foot of an ancient oak tree, fevered and delirious, for two days. I woke again, parched, but knew I had drunk the last of my water the night before. At first I thought the voices I heard were dreams, or nightmares, and then a cold hand touched my cheek.

"Pick him up and bring him -- he needs a cleric, as soon as possible." It was a strong but quiet male voice. "The hunt can wait."

He could remember being picked up and carried, but not where or how far. I came back to my senses lying on a low, soft bed. A man was there, speaking softly, but it was not the same voice, and did not seem to be speaking to me. The language was unfamiliar. I coughed weakly, and propped myself up a little, but hesitated to open my eyes.

"Where am I?" I asked.

"Finally awake, young man?" The gentle voice said. "Look around, and see for yourself. We have no real name for our village, and you already knew you were in the woods, so I can hardly tell you where you are." He hesitated. I heard in my mind all the teasing of the kids back home, the quiet voice of my father saying, "Maybe there is a way to start over." I took a slow deep breath, as though I could change myself just by trying hard enough. It felt like an enormous weight, pressing on my, and as I breathed out again it seem to slowly release. I opened my eyes, and stared. It was a small room, open on two sides, and looking out the open sides, I could see just treetops, the tallest and strongest of them with more of the same rooms nestled into the crooks of their branches. An elven man sat against the wall, just at the foot of the bed, looking at me, smiling.

"It is breathtaking, isn't it? It's been 200 years and it still surprises me every morning when I wake." He paused. "Do you have a name?"

"Lakash."

"It will do, for a child's name. Mine is Tandrien. And where are your parents, Lakash?"

"I don't have parents any more."

"So, you will be staying, then?"

I looked up, startled. Tandrien's gentle smile had turned into an impish grin. "Think about it," he said, turning away. "There is a lot we could teach you here." He stepped onto the rope bridge leading to the next tree. "Those striking green eyes lend quite a lot of expression to your face, Lakash." Tandrien walked off across the bridge, chuckling. Looking around the room, stunned, I saw a washing basin and a small mirror. I crawled out of the bed and stumbled to the mirror. There I was, looking back at myself through deep green eyes. As I stared, they faded slowly back to the crimson color I was so accustomed to seeing. Confused, and still exhaused, I splashed some water on my face, drank from the waterskin next to the bed, and went back to sleep.

During the night, I woke briefly, just enough to hear Tandrien talking to a woman, near the bed.

"The sickness has been cured, and he just needs some rest now," she was saying. "I must confess I don't see the touch of magic in him that you do, but of course, you have a much finer sight for it than I."

"He cast a spell yesterday. I was only half paying attention, and almost missed it. Just as he woke up, before he sat up and looked around. I just saw a quick flash, and then the lingering transmutation effect on him."

"I wasn't doubting you. You have never been wrong about a matter of magic before, and I certainly don't expect you are now."

I drifted off again. When I woke in the morning, Tandrien was there. He was meditating at the foot of the bed, and I didn't even notice him until after I had washed and turned back towards the bed. He opened his eyes, and raise one eyebrow.

"Oh...perhaps now I see more clearly," he said. I felt terrible. I tried to look away, but he came over and took my chin, forcing me to look up at him. "So that's what you changed."

"I don't understand. I always wanted green eyes and it happened, for just a minute."

"You cast a magic spell, little Lakash. You've studied magic?"

"My mom told me about it, before...when I still had parents." He withdrew his hand, and I went to sit on the bed. We talked for most of the morning, and Tandrien offered to teach me as much about magic as I could learn. He told me about the village, a group of elves and half-elves who choose a quieter life in the forest.

I spent almost 12 years there. When it grew near my 15th birthday, Tandrien told me I would come of age that year.

"It will be time to give up your childhood name, Lakash. Here we choose our own names, as we choose our hopes, desires and destinies. You will be called on to announce your name when you come of age at the next full moon." As you might guess, he taught me a great deal about speech and expression as well. He was always collected and well-spoken. And yes, I chose the name Ellowyn for myself. It may seem like I've cast off my last tie to my family, but that is not quite the case. My father's name was Elkaret, and my mother's was Norowyn.

Being Tandrien's student was always both difficult and rewarding. Of all the arcanists I've met, he has had the best connection with pure magical power. He was a master Arcane Avatar, and when I left to seek out a Spell Siphon, he asked me to come back some day, when I was ready to truly bond with magic. My training as a Spell Siphon already has given me an incredible connection to magical power shaped into transumtation effects. Lately, I've begun to catch glimpses of that connection to other kinds of magic, and the beauty that all magical forms hold. I look forward to the day I can sit and meditate with Tandrien again.