Metamorphosis [Rp Story]

[ChainedDragons 1374]

Spoiler

 

The Archdruid, Traskaath, sat himself down on a rock nearby, he had fetched himself a piece of windfall as he began to carve away while the Cursed Child experienced his visions. Bron had been experiences odd things with his totem. The totem looking different in sleepless moments. Perhaps inducing a vision would aid the omen in finding out what was going on. He waited for Bron to drift off, working at his carving.

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In the dream world...

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Brons head snapped around, hearing a strange call. It sounded like the bark of a fox but warbled or muffled. He slowly began to move towards the sound in the dark space, ears twitching to hone in on the sound. As he walked he would find the dark giving way to a cave mouth; He steps out and stills. This.. This was Lichtenwald.. Back on Aevos.

Bron looked about, the sound of the bark ringing out again. Quickly he moved through the frozen grass, his hooves crunching against the frozen blades. He catches a glimpse of red flashing out of the corner of his eye, slipping into the make shift tavern. “Wait-” He called out. Bron runs to where he recalled the entrance being. The gates were down.. The omen frowned - even in the waking world his face gently contorted to the expression.

Huffing, Bron shuffled around the side of the wall surrounding the tavern. He had scaled the wall many times as a kid. Doing it here should be no issue. The omen grasps the ledge of the roof, his hooves scrabbling on the divets in the wood as he pulled himself up. Bron rolls onto his back once on the roof before slipping down into the locked off area with a thud. He clicks his tongue as if calling for his scrowls. “Come out- eam niet going to hurt vy.. Vy led ea in the last vision.. Why are vy here?”

The skittering of small paws and a trill filled the omens ears as he looked under tables for the spirit. He would turn, seeing the small fox perched on the fireplace, tail swishing back and forth. “There vy are-” Bron stands upright, walking towards what he believed to be a spirit. “Can vy speak?” The fox tilts its head curiously at Brons question. With no answer given Bron sighed, rubbing the back of his head. “Who am ea kidding. Eam high off eam rocker, talking to eamself…” The fox leaps down from the fireplace onto the couch across from the warmth. As Bron's eyes followed it he blinked in surprise. It was.. himself.. On the couch. Well, a child version of himself, fast asleep. Was he really that small then? Bron watched the fox settle on the boys hip, tail curling around its paws. What was the fox wanting?

Bron hesitantly stepped to the child, looking down at himself. His eyes soften. Aspects, he couldn't recall the last time he was without scars. Bron slowly reached out to brush hair from the kids face but hesitates.. In the moment of hesitation the child's eyes open. Familiar black pupils blink up at the man. Bron's jaw opens but no words come out. Child Nickolai sits up, holding the fox close. “Have ea become the best bard in the world?” Bron's ears flick back as his own inner child asked him this. “Niet kid.. W-…ea haven't….”

“Oh..” The kids face becomes crestfallen. “…..ea still have family right?.. Papaej and papa? All eam new friends… they are still here right?” Bron's ears lower further. The aged omen stepped forward, bending on a knee to look himself in the eye. “…Ja. And niet.. Ea have..Many friends.. Ea made numerous.. But ea have lost some too.. Papaej and papa aren't around anymore…” The omen watched as hope began to wither away from the youth. Instinctively Bron placed his amatii hand on the kids knee. “Eam ordak…ea have carved a place in the world for eamself.. Ea have lost some things.. Some people.. But ea…ea am known..” The fox tilts its head, cuddling close to the child as Nickolai listened.

“What am I known for?” As Nickolai asked this, the fox peers back at the adult, as if staring into his soul. Bron hesitates, unsure how to answer. What was he known for? Before he could form words the flames in the fire place turn into a deep prussian blue with a howl of the wind. The fox began to growl, chatter in the kids arms. Nickolai whimpers, curling up on the couch and staring at the doorway. Bron looks over his shoulder from his crouched position. His heart sinks upon seeing the blue tyrant step into the door frame, having to lower his head to even get inside. “Nicky… it's about time you joined me don't you think?” Bron instinctively placed himself between the vision of Kroza and his youth self.

Bron's fingers in the waking world clench together, the amatii squeaking. “He- eam niet joining vy. He didn't then.. Ea won't now.” Bron says coolly to his grandfather, the whimpers behind him slowly making him more and more upset. “Oh perhaps not now Nicky but… in time you will” Bron swallowed as the tyrants shadow washed over him, the demon king towering over his form as the cries of the fox grew louder, the tiny spirit snapping its teeth at the air. The youth on the couch was gone. Bron felt so.. Small.. He was a child again, beneath Kroza.

Nickolai felt himself tremble as Kroza's serpentine head lowered to his level, those slitted yellow eyes boring into him. “What makes you so special that you think you can avoid my influence? You are just like your father.. A coward.. Always reaching for what isn't yours to claim.. Always pining to be adored. Your place is at the worlds feet. It always was. It always will be.” Nickolai trembled, his head lowering. A clawed finger forced him to look back up. “You turn away from the one who would truly accept you as you are… with me you would take what is yours. With me you would take that adoration you so crave.. All you have to do grandson.. Is say the word.”

Nickolai trembled, stammering beneath the piercing gaze of Kroza. In the waking world sweat rolled down his face, a grimace of discomfort apparent. “E-ea.. Ea…” The fox growls up at the vision of his grandfather, nipping at the demons ankles only for Kroza to kick the spirit aside with a sharp yelp. Nickolai gasped, looking up at Kroza in fear. “So.. What is it going to be? It is your choice Nicky..” As Nickolai stared up at the vision of his grandfather, the room beginning to feel as if it were closing in on him, his eyes flicker to where the fox fell. Next to it was the stone hatchet Reinhard had made him. Memories of him learning how to use it from his father rapidly fire off in succession.

Nickolai swallows, looking back up at Kroza. “Ea.. Ea will never join vy! VY RUINED OUR FAMILY!” Nickolai grasps the stone hatchet and lets out a cry, swinging it at Kroza's form. To Nickolai's surprise, the hatchet cracks through the demon kings skull, the vision of his grandfather roaring out in anger before being consumed by blue fire- the ashes being blown away. Nickolai drops the hatchet, crumbling to his knees as he began to hug himself, rocking back and forth sobbing. There was silence save for the child's cries till Nickolai felt something wet touching his face. The child looks up sniffling. It was the fox, licking his face. Without hesitation, Nickolai pulled the spirit into an embrace.

 Bron opened his eyes, finding himself as an adult once more in the darkness again. He looks down, releasing the fox but finding its appearance to be different. The man observed the strange feathers along the animals forearms and its avian front limbs. The fox creature slowly sits down, the pair looking at each other. “…Is…this what vy wanted to show eam?” He asked quietly. “…How far ea have come?..That-”

 

You are not your ancestors sins. You are the path you have carved.

 

Bron falls quiet, watching the Enfield turn and trot off, a trail of golden mist lighting its path in its wake. Bron quietly followed… his vision fading.

 

Bron suddenly sits up, gasping as if he were drowning. “Hileia.” Traskaaath bids, perking up. “Breathe Ye're back.” Bron swallows, gulping down air as he wiped his face free of sweat. “Back.. Back..H..How long was ea.. Out?”

 

“Long enough.” The wood elf said as he stood up, he offered a hand to Bron. “Arise, Brother.” He paused, waiting for Bron to announce his new Totem.
Bron takes Traskaath's hand, getting to his hooves. “Enfield..” He wasn't sure what the word meant but..It felt right. He then hugs the archdruid. Traskaath returned the embrace, gently patting the little druid on the back. “Mar'ayla. Go take some time to rest, these visions can be heavy.” He held the embrace a little longer, letting the omen find his peace.

 

Spoiler

Special thanks to @DankuzMemuz, thanks for the rp of getting my totem sorted, and special shout out to@SethWolf as was heavily inspired to rp my vision this way based on his Character Kroza