Thoughtful black eyes stared down the shadowed edge of a far standing bookshelf. There in the shadows laid a beaten looking journal with peeled back leather and thumb treasured edges. It'd been a while since Throx had even thought of book, but one of his many furry companions had knocked over a vase near the shelf. In his haste to clean the mess and chide the mischievous feline, the ogre bumped into the bookshelf and knocked it's contents clean out.
Cursing his luck while he cleaned yet another mess was how he happened upon the journal. How many years had it been" Forty' Fifty' Sometimes Throx came close to loosing count, his body's years were long.
Conceding to his thoughts, the ogre took up the old volume and flipped past the first page and it's illustrated insignia; D"ies.
It was time to remember his father.
________ ——————— ________ ——————— ________ ——————— ________ ——————— ________ ——————— ________
First Night, Spring's Second Month,
It is unfortunate that it has taken me a lifetime to realize my thoughts are indeed precious things. That knowledge and wise things can be gleaned from the ramblings and timely musings of an old many like myself" Perhaps it is my foolish heart finally catching up with me in my age" Who can tell" But I digress.
I should start this memoir by saying that I will always love my brother Noctis, no matter how viciously we battled. I cannot say where things took their final turn, but I can say it was shortly after our father died. Mother had been long gone, and it was only his wise presence that kept my brother and I from battling like a pair of backwater rats. Ironic then that we should be named such complimenting contrasts. Noctis and D"ies, night and day; such fitting yet completely ill fated names for a pair of brothers such as we.
This last confrontation was particularly brutal. We leveled a village? It was all my fault. It is always my fault. I am the older of us, I should know better than to rise to his threats, they are always empty. Again, my thoughts are straying.
There was a boy, no, a child. No more than a child at all. He was the only survivor, and I fear he's a questionable one at that. The damage to his lungs is past a full healing even by my magic's standards, he was left too long in the smoldering rubble. But I found him, faint but clinging to life. I could not leave him. He is not a redemption from the sin I've committed this evening, but he can be a chance to put a right in a seemingly endless world of sad wrongs.
~ D
Cursing his luck while he cleaned yet another mess was how he happened upon the journal. How many years had it been" Forty' Fifty' Sometimes Throx came close to loosing count, his body's years were long.
Conceding to his thoughts, the ogre took up the old volume and flipped past the first page and it's illustrated insignia; D"ies.
It was time to remember his father.
________ ——————— ________ ——————— ________ ——————— ________ ——————— ________ ——————— ________
First Night, Spring's Second Month,
It is unfortunate that it has taken me a lifetime to realize my thoughts are indeed precious things. That knowledge and wise things can be gleaned from the ramblings and timely musings of an old many like myself" Perhaps it is my foolish heart finally catching up with me in my age" Who can tell" But I digress.
I should start this memoir by saying that I will always love my brother Noctis, no matter how viciously we battled. I cannot say where things took their final turn, but I can say it was shortly after our father died. Mother had been long gone, and it was only his wise presence that kept my brother and I from battling like a pair of backwater rats. Ironic then that we should be named such complimenting contrasts. Noctis and D"ies, night and day; such fitting yet completely ill fated names for a pair of brothers such as we.
This last confrontation was particularly brutal. We leveled a village? It was all my fault. It is always my fault. I am the older of us, I should know better than to rise to his threats, they are always empty. Again, my thoughts are straying.
There was a boy, no, a child. No more than a child at all. He was the only survivor, and I fear he's a questionable one at that. The damage to his lungs is past a full healing even by my magic's standards, he was left too long in the smoldering rubble. But I found him, faint but clinging to life. I could not leave him. He is not a redemption from the sin I've committed this evening, but he can be a chance to put a right in a seemingly endless world of sad wrongs.
~ D