Ker'celia - Aeyrius's Disappearance

[OtakuAnonymous 49]

"WHERE AM I?"

 

Aeyrius looked around as he woke up, rubbing his head, gusts of cool winds brushing against his bare flesh as he looks down the massive slope of the mountain he slept on. Above him, is the beginning of a snow-cap, Aeyrius sits up just inside a cave, a weak, dimly lit pile of embers remains of what was once a fire, beat dim by the harsh gusts scraping through the cave. Aeyrius crawled out to the ledge to get a better view, the memories starting to return to him, of when he had left Leumalin, Darkhaven, or in other words, Malinor as a whole on year back.

 

"Oh."

 

He began to recollect his dream of the passed night, where he lurked the forests of Malinor, in search of a Dire Wolf, a dream he pursued not only in his dreams, but in reality. The difference here was that he did, in fact, find one. The creature looked to him, and spoke common tongue, it was the oddest thing, they became friends, and lived what seemed to be a life time together, it brought a smile to Aeyrius's face, just as the cold pinched his skin. Aeyrius went back into the cave, seeking out his blade, one he had crafted for himself, something from the great beyond, the heavenly stars above.

 

A blade, forged from the very mineral that fell from the sky a year and some time back, which he had treasured so dearly, but never trained with, it was a shame to let something of such value go to waste...

 

Aeyrius took it off of the carved in crop in the wall, holding the short sword in his right hand, testing the balance, and the bamboo grip like every other morning. Turning to his left, just beside the embers of the fire lie a wooden bowl, carved crudely to shape, with scraps of what looked like a potent, green soup from the night before. Aeyrius sat down, trying to remember what miracle led him to make this fire the night before, bonking his head to remember, before it came to him. Aeyrius took the burnt stick just poking out of the fire pit, trotting out of the cave, and down the side of the mountain, on a windy, rough trail leading to the beginning of vegetation, and one might say Malinor.  The entire time his head would be swirling with inner conversations, reminders of his relatives, his goals, why he came out here- oh yeah, why did Aeyrius come out here? The answer seemed simple in his mind if he didn't focus on it, and that was to learn to survive, he knew how to fight, sure, with one type of weapon, maybe two if you wedge in archery. So here he would learn to hunt, with a short sword he thought, but really, that wasn't the case. He did in fact train, but at the same time he was pushed away, he told his father of Aislinn, yet after what seemed like feral rage in his father, Aislinn was never pursued, all of Malinor was aware after posters were raised, but no one pursued, so Aeyrius decided that was not the place for him, at least not now. To tailor a nation is a big thing, but also a desire that was in Aeyrius, if everyone was already bound by Fear, Arrogance, or pure Over-Confidence, much needn't be done to assume that dominant position, but that was for a much, much later time.

 

Aeyrius needed to kill Aislinn, to wipe away his series of mistakes, to repair what was ruined, he broke his own bind of fear optimistically, but he also broke his honor, by lying to survive. That was the bottom of his facades to escape, while many of the previous things were true, that was the core.

 

Aeyrius finally stopped in some shrubbery beside a lit pathway, holding the charred stick in hand, and after looking far down either side of the path, he dashed forward, lighting the stick, than holding it carefully in his right hand, concentrating on the flame, balancing himself as he embarked upwards, only stopping to tear up some plants with his left hand, and drink some water, the flame held far from it.

 

As Aeyrius ascended the treacherous trail up the mountain once more, he went over the times he had tried to do things with words, to make people listen to him, none worked, why was that? They didn't care, didn't take him seriously, or had given up hope, pathetic in his mind, Aeyrius did not want to live with those people. He began speaking out his thoughts;

 

"So... I shouldn't have even attended that dumb meeting, only thing I got from it was another stupid ear-load, and a chance to smack a dumb bird. Let alone going far into Malinor again, as far as Haelun'or, agh, I'm tired... White Rose are dugdugz, Pale People are dugdugz, oh, a better way of saying dugdugz would be Duzgh, yeah! Duzgh, that'll confuse those duzgh's so much... Hrmph, I heard stories of the dead rising, and I even have a picture, I should check that out soon again, it would be awesome if I could kill and not be punish- Uuuh, hi, yeah, ehm... So... Whistling time!" 

 

On cue, Aeyrius whistled the entire way back up the mountain, into the cave, where he lit the fireplace once more, working on cooking up some food from his stockpile, the sun was descending now, a day so routine yet so captivating as always. For the rest of his time, Aeyrius would brutally train himself, mostly learning new, custom technique with his hatchets, one thought came across his mind. I wonder what my family thinks? He responded openly.

 

"I should go back, shouldn't I?"

 

Aeyrius would pack up that Elven night, and start to make his way back to Leumalin.

 

 

((Sooooooo... I haven't been on in five days, my computer

borked  <--- Custom word, gotta love it, and so I'll be back tomorrow night, that is after all, the ETA for my computer's return.))

[Tom_Whiteman 949]

((About time mister! I'll await your arrival!))

[ToenailTickler 290]

((Your older brother awaits....))

[Moot 1719]

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