Synasthima

Erlend was born in the small rural village of Addersfield near the western edge of the Holy Orenian Empire. Born to one Aodhan Folke, a portly rancher who was prone to bouts of inane anger, the youth never met the '***** of a woman' that sired him. The topic was a.. Sore subject for the balding, middle-aged farmer. She had left him shortly after the birth of the child; rumor has it that she fled back to her family or simply escaped from the abusive man. As a baby and young child, Erlend suffered from a litany of diseases due to his weakened immune system, eventually turning him more pale and thin then others his age. Aodhan, viewing the child as nothing more than a burden, sent Erlend away to live with his grandfather in a nearby village.

With nothing more than a few coins in his pocket and a single loaf of bread, the now fourteen year old was thrust from his house and into the cold night air. The child wailed and threw himself at the door, begging to be let back in. You see, Erlend still had a certain measure of respect and kinship with his father. Of course, he was terrified of the raucous outbursts whenever the drunkard would stumble about the house at night... But.. He remembered the few tender moments with his father. The time he took care of him during endless nights of sickness, balancing on the edge between life or death. The time he chased away a group of bullies that tried to demean and attack him. Despite those memories and hopes, the door remained fixed. So, Erlend went off on his way, only utilizing vague indications from passersby to try and locate the village.

The youth arrived at his grandfather's house after two days of horrible walking. The kindly, old gentlemen known only to him as Edward took the limping and starving child in as his own. Immediately, the differences between the two environments was shocking. Edward loved, nourished, and protected him; teaching him all that he knew. The old man was one of the only literate individuals in the city, offering his services as a scribe for the local lord.  Erlend was swept up into the fuss of the Edward's day, eventually being put to work as his ward and caretaker of the small library that was attached to the house. It was nothing more than a small shed but the teen was infatuated. Any moment not spent within the cramped halls was spent day-dreaming about them. The words upon the pages; the tales spun from nothingness. It could only be called an awakening for the child. Truly, though, Erlend was most interested in cartography. A fascination and curiosity with the hundreds of thousands of unknowns in the world. From 

For five years, the youth danced back and forth in this small paradise. On the night of his nineteenth birthday, however, Edward sat him down in his room and spoke to him. He offered him two presents: a pair of fine clothing and a small leather case that held a single, rudimentary compass. "I know what you want, child. I see how you look at the maps hung on the walls downstairs." Before Erlend could speak, the old man held up a single palm to stop him. "Allow this old man to speak his piece. You have learned all I can teach, Erlend. It is time for you to go out into the world and learn, like all must do." A soft yet firm hand clasped his shoulder. "I will be here for you, always. Come home whenever you need." With tears in his eyes, he shared a hug with the aging man before spending the rest of the day reminiscing and helping the bitter sweet writer with a few pieces of work that had piled up.

The next morning, they shared a tender hug before Erlend set off into the world.