May the Aspects be with Us.

[Slothtastic 761]

Oliver was at an impasse. Normally he wouldn’t lay awake at night and think, preferring to just go to sleep. But he couldn’t. He could barely close his eyes now. He was tired and beaten. Whether from drink and food or from what had happened during his affliction. He turned his head to look at the wife he had been without for so long. He stroked her cheek gently, beginning to remember what had brought him up to this.

 

He remembered his first contact with the descendants. Druids at the Mother Grove. They had thought his kind to be Iblees Spawn. But they weren’t. He explained it to them, he saw a Kharajyr, the color of midnight with blue eyes and a scar over one. A halfling, who seemed curious than most. And an elf lass. His memory and mind began to shift towards the next one.

 

The grove had moved, and so did he. Satyr children had been abandoned or lost all over and he was one of the few adults left outside of the secret locations. Yes, he took them all under his wing. They had become a giant family. His biological son growing with the others. However, soon after the children left the nest to become adults. Some left sooner. And Oliver did not see many of them again. Later he assumed they had been left on Axios, or killed during it. Including his own son, he remembered the grief he went through when he had searched for him and yet had found nothing.

 

With grief cane drink after drink after drink. He found no home with the druids as the attacks upon them increased. He turned to the Dominion. They would accept him as a traveler. And it was in their tavern that he had met his future wife, Alyia. She was drinking too, although he was unsure why. So he made his move and talked to her. They hit it off, and soon enough they were courting one another.

 

He remembered it clearly, his second child being born. His first with his new family. A beautiful baby girl, and she took the name Olivia Thorn. She grew to be hot-headed, like her father. Yet beautiful as her mother. And like her father she loved to explore, so much so that she had even moved away from the family. He didn’t know what became of her sadly.

 

This memory was fresher. His third born, another son who took the name of Arum. The boy was a handsome baby, yet had the more softer side of his mother. While he took on the more defined appearance of his father.

 

Then came arguably the happiest day of his life. His wedding day with his two children beside him. Olivia was still only around 10, and Arum was still a babe. He remembered the small group of people that had showed. They did not want it to be interrupted by anyone and only invited close friends. Choosing a location out in the forests. Alyia had looked very beautiful in her wedding dress, and Arum being the flower boy was quite adorable. A friend carried him while he threw flowers from a basket.

 

After this came the Gallics. Great friends and like family. However it was around this time his memory shifted and began to turn red. The Church antagonized them constantly, the blight behind Curon grew and there came the dreaded scouting mission inside it. Zaos, the future boyfriend of his adopted daughter, Aire, had come. So had Gwion, and a random atronach that had been wandering the camp site. It all went wrong. Strange creatures came from nowhere. Looking like Satyrs, yet they weren’t. Oliver still felt the pain where the makeshift spear had hit his leg. Pinning him to the ground, only for it to be pulled out and he dragged to their base.

 

The nightmare became even more engrossed. He was no longer Oliver, but Ghorros. Feeding his own adopted child his blood to share his fate. Doing the same to Rosemary, and other Fae. Killing those who wandered the roads and causing unneeded violence. He wasn’t himself anymore. And he could still feel that part of him hanging on, desperate for more senseless violence and more blood to be spilt upon the ground.

 

With a sigh, he forced himself to close his eyes. The images surged for a bit, before stopping.

“May th’ Aspects guide us, dear.” He muttered to his wife before dozing off. Cradling her as if they may die in their sleep. Which to Oliver, could very well happen with the enemies he had made.

 

((Ew ew I know, no formatting, but I’m on mobile and I can’t. I’m sorry.))

[Vaynth 3005]

Moved to The Great Library. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.

 

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