Alan Flameforge, a mute, was born to a poor woman in Sutica. He never learned her name for she died soon after childbirth. Her sisters were very kind to him, and taught him everything he would come to know, from reading and writing, to self-defense he owed his life to them. So in return once he turned 12 he began helping out as much as he could. His duties became cleaning the laundry, cleaning the house they worked in, cooking meals, until eventually they trusted him enough to organize records and payments, beat off troublemakers, and tend to the wounded livestock. With their help he learned to communicate himself without speaking. Grand gestures, little looks, or even simple grunts were all he really needed to get a point across, but he tended to carry around a chalkboard and chalk with him for more complex answers and questions.
He came to think of the sisters as his family, especially the eldest Cathrine who looked after him like a son. She was very strict with him and sometimes overbearing, but also kind, loyal, and motherly. It would be she who taught him to read and write, and who taught him about the church of canon and its teachings. But although he was loved deeply by those around him he could not shake a sinking ache in his heart from questions he held no answers to. “Where is my real mother? Why would she leave me? Did she hate me? Did I do something wrong? Is it because I cant speak?” Instead of voicing these concerns to Catherine, he decided to lock these questions away, for fear of having his new family come to hate him.
It was when he turned 18 that he was called to the Catherine’s room. She presented to him a letter, the name addressed to him. He tentatively opened it. A shocked expression crossed his face as he began to read...
“My dear sweet Alan,
I write this to you knowing that it may be the last words you get to hear from me. Words escape me holding you in my arms my dear, sweet, precious child. You scared me so much when you arrived, you made no sound I feared you were dead, but seeing you sleep so peacefully I am relieved beyond compare that you are alive. There are many things that you must know and I little time left to tell. First your full name is Alan Flameforged. Your father was an adventurous man, it was with him that you were conceived. However as time went on he became distant and visited home less and less with the passing months. Do not hate him, we loved each other very much but he was not one to be tied down so easily, and with my weak constitution I fear it was never meant to be, but I am glad that you share his eyes they are as beautiful as I remember.
I’ve asked the my eldest sister Catherine to look out for you in my stead so be kind to her, I know she can be strict but she has been like a mother to us all and there is no one i trust more than her to look out for you. I pray you never end up in the streets as I did, and that you never learn to know what hunger feels like. I know you have so much potential in you, and that your future will be so bright. My last wish is that you grow every day and become happy, and want for nothing.
My dear darling boy,
Rachel Foxhunt”
“your mother died soon after she wrote this you know. She wanted me to keep it until you were ready.” … A tear rolls down his cheek as he grips his chest. A pain he had forgotten about seemed to lift as if it never existed. Questions he had “where was his mother? why did she leave him? did she love him?” All flew away with this simple elegantly written letter.
It was from that point on that he became determined. His mothers dying wish to be happy, and want for nothing drove him to better himself. He studied hard, read as many books as he could, apprenticed under any master that would take a mute boy, and learned as much as he could from them. He learned basic farming, building, smithing, sailing, fishing, cooking, and even animal husbandry and riding. He intended to learn as much as he could so he had the skills to never go hungry. However in only four short years he could never master anything. At best he was a jack of all trades but master to none. On his twenty-second birthday Catherine sent him a letter. She had heard news of a family making a name for themselves called the “Flameforged Brothers” in Helena. She urged him to go to them and work with them. That if they were the same Flameforged family that my mother was a part of then surely even though he was mute they his only family on his fathers side wouldn’t turn him away. So he Set out to Helena in hopes of meeting with his long lost brothers and perhaps finding, well payed, fulfilling work. To never go hungry, to always be happy, and to want for nothing. If such a dream could be achieved perhaps he would find it with them.
