Things are as they are [Rp Story]

[ChainedDragons 1374]

 

Spoiler

 

Selfish. Isn't self preservation akin to being selfish?  The want to live as long as one can. The desire to want something better for yourself that you never had the chance of knowing since you were a boy? 
Me wanting to leave Lichtenwald and live among common folk was selfish.

Me wanting to become something great.. to leave my own echo in the world like many others wish, is selfish.

Me wanting to have love and create love in turn is selfish.

Me wanting to save my self when the gods themselves deem me unworthy for their skies is selfish.

If living. Breathing. If all of it is deemed selfish, then I guess I will live selfishly. 

I wasn't born with the instinct of causing misery. I was born hungry and desiring warmth, just as any other babe. 

Yet as I aged, I found that the world does not care if you're hungry or warm...
It cares how you tend to your needs. And if you don't tend to them their way, well. That is a problem.

I never meant to hurt anyone.

This dark cloud that hovers over me like some foreboding storm lashes out at the worse of times. I am human. Under the horns and fangs.

I am.

And humans make mistakes.

I am human.

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"Bron?"
"Hm?" The omen looks over at his wife laying next to him in bed, the pencil in his fingers lowering. The notebook illuminated by gentle candle light flips closed with him no longer looking. 
"It's time to rest."

"..Ea can't sleep." He murmured in reply, setting the pencil down and rolling over to face Solveig. The pair huddled close with their children sleeping nearby in a bunk bed within a dark cobbled room.

"You need to try... we are here now...just try." Solveig kissed his cheek, huddling close to his chest.
The omen laid there for a bit before blowing out the candle, diminishing the light from their sanctuary. They were here because of him. This was his fault. Bron laid there in the dark, his chin resting on his wife's head. He could hear her heart beat and the tiny scampering behind the walls. His eyes fluttered once. Twice. Rest takes him and within the confines of his mind, Bron was haunted by familiar Yellow Eyes.

 

You are more like me than you care to admit grandson...

Spoiler