Benerand

Benerand Ramnos was born in Aensol Grove, a small, peaceful farmstead two days' ride from the town of Ruriksgrad. Raised alone by his father Torson, he grew up a humble, structured child, often assisting with field duties from dawn till dusk, or accompanying his father to the city to sell their harvest. By the time he reached adolescence, he had become strong and hardy, and had taught himself the fundamentals of combat while defending the farm from nighttime raids by wild dogs and other predators. Untrained as he was, by the age of seventeen, he had set himself apart from the other field hands as the clear picture of a warrior in farmers' clothing. 

Torson Ramnos, though not a wealthy man, was affluent enough to purchase the indentured servitude of a man named Orliv, who lived on the farm with his son Althalos, and acted as Torson and Benerand's personal servants. Despite their servitude, Torson never looked down on Orliv or treated him as any less than an equal, and though Althalos was Benerand's attendant, they each saw the other as their best friend since birth. Althalos was one year older than Benerand, and his father had known Benerand's father for decades before either of them were born. 

On the eve of his eighteenth birthday, Benerand's father approached him with an offer. In secret, he had saved a small wealth of gold, and through a contact in the court of Ruriksgrad, had arranged for Benerand to be accepted into the Norland army as a squire. Overjoyed, Benerand packed his belongings and prepared to leave home. In the final night before his departure, Benerand's father told him that when he returned home, he would tell him about his mother. Benerand knew precious little. She was a woman his father had met on the road to Ruriksgrad in the dead of night, emaciated, lost, and afraid. He had taken her in, given her shelter, and for a year she was with him, their companionship resulting in a child. Only a few days after his birth, she was gone, never to return. Benerand only knew from his father of her noble face, her eyes that glowed with burning passion, and her smile that could launch an armada. He longed to know more about her, but his father was always obstinate about the matter, never saying much before closing himself down completely. Now it seemed, that was coming to an end. With a heavy heart, Benerand set out towards Ruriksgrad.

Nine months later, Benerand had nearly completed his training, and was quickly rising to become a distinguished member of the Ruriksgrad army. He had not heard from his father for several weeks, and though preoccupied with his duties, he was eager to return to the quiet farmstead that had been his home for so long. One night, he received a letter from Aensol Grove, bearing his father's seal.

"Son, please return home as quickly as possible. I'm afraid there isn't much time left. You need to know the truth about our family. I will explain everything when you come back home.

With confidence, 

Torson Ramnos"

An uneasiness growing in him, Benerand stole away that night, donning common clothes and taking a horse from the army stables, riding as quickly as his mount would take him back to his home. 

When he returned, the farmstead was burning, and hooded assassins were attacking the farm. He raced to his father's house, and found his father and Oliv dead, the floor and walls stained with their blood. Benerand tried to defend his home, but was outnumbered, disarmed, and brought to his knees. Waiting for death, he faced his killers, but a woman's voice ordered them to stop. The assassins parted, and she stepped forward. She let down her hood to reveal ringlets of long brown hair, a face with smooth, noble features, and mahogany brown eyes.

"Leave this one. We have the other child. He is of no more use to us." 

Anger surged in Benerand's body as he lunged for the woman, desperately trying to put hands around her neck. He cried out in pain as an arrow pierced his arm, pinning him to the wall. He looked behind the ring of assassins and saw Althalos framed against the night, holding a bow.

The woman raised a hand, and in a flash of light, they were gone.

A crumpled letter lay clutched in Torson's lifeless hand.

"Benerand,

There is not much time left, but you must know the truth. I fear that I will never be able to tell you in person. When I met your mother, she was known as Cyrel. I found her stranded on the road, starving and hunted by an order of mercenaries on the trail of a witch. I sheltered her and her son for a year until these hunters gave up their search, and through our time together, you were born. When you were but a month old, she disappeared, leaving me to care for her sons. Recently I have heard rumors of a cult searching for children bearing a curse of dark magic, and I have done my best to keep both you and Althalos safe. You will be well-guarded in Ruriksgrad, and Althalos will not be suspected as the son of my servant. I am sorry that it had to happen this way, and I know that my days are numbered, but you both must know the truth before they end my life. Whatever happens to me, know that I love you, and I wished only to keep you safe.

With confidence,

Torson Ramnos"