Your character has just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As they look around, their gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. They duck and step into a tattered tent, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the tent, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town? She begins, then pauses to study your face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a cushion, “Tell me your story.”
((How do you respond?)
Mingyue's feet stay firmly cemented on the ground, holding onto the fraying fabric of the tent's entrance, thumb brushing over its tattered edges in a self-soothing rhythm in an attempt to calm his nerves. He blinks owlishly at the old hag. "Excuse me? ...Who-- Who are you?"
When he doesn't receive an immediate answer to his wary question, Mingyue finds his eyebrows knitting slightly in frustration. He's not angry per se, more baffled than anything. Miffed not only at the lack of response but also at the mere suggestion he'd have anything of worth to tell.
For a moment, he wonders if this is some big wind-up, to irritate or freak him out, leave him embarrassed at having even bothered, or some fortune-telling scheme to get him to dump the last few mina in his bag. By the time he dials back into reality from his incessant thinking, he's already convinced himself that's the case. But even with such deep-seated doubt, he still finds himself parting his hand from the tent flap he'd been using for comfort and carefully treading inside, tentatively moving towards the offered cushion, gaze never leaving the old hag as he sits.
"It's... nothing special or worth telling, no heroic feats nor daring adventures," he mutters as he tears his eyes away. "But, since you asked... I guess... The best place to start would be with my family."
Mingyue straightens his posture as he nervously picks at the calluses on his hands. "Ai-Zhou... is where my father is from. I heard he was quite a handful back then, always getting into fights... Oh, and more than his fair share of legal trouble. He may have come to these lands in search of a better life, but he definitely made no strides to leave the old one behind."
"My mother, on the other hand? She was the kind of person who could make flowers blush. Regal, golden-hearted, endlessly kind, an exemplary high elf," he'd press his lips into a small smile as he fidgeted with the cuff of his sleeve. "I guess that's why her family in Haelun'or wasn't all too fond of my father when she ran off to be with him. I bet they wanted his head on a pike..."
"Can't imagine they were happy when my older brother was born," Mingyue shakes his head, almost scoffing. "I don't even want to imagine what they thought when I came around 15 years later."
Lifting his sleeve to a small sliver of candlelight, Mingyue frowns as he notices a tear in his sleeve. He brushes his thumb over it as if the action would make the blemish disappear. "It's... strange thinking about it now, but back then everything was so much easier. We used to play all day in those mountains. I remember we would always play tag near the clearing... My brother was horrible at it, though, always distracted. Sometimes I would try to peek at what he was staring at, but there was never anything there... I wonder what was going on in that head of his... He never really spoke much of his feelings."
As the final few words fall from Mingyue's lips, Mingyue finds himself pinching the fabric closed. "Even so, we were content. Sure, we didn't have an education, money, or status, but who needs such things when you're already happy?"
His hands come to a complete halt as he lets go, folding his hands in his lap again.
"I wish it had lasted a little longer..." he says. "Both fell ill at once. If I had to guess, it was probably the old musty water from the well. I couldn't stand the smell of it. I'd always drink water from a spring nearby, maybe that's why I never got sick." Mingyue shakes his head as he brings his knees up to his chest, meekly folding his arms and laying them on top of them. "Regardless, they passed on a few days after. My mother first... I guess my father didn't really see the point in continuing without her and passed a few hours after she did. Things were never quite the same after that."
"It hit my brother especially hard. He hardly spoke, and I don't recall him eating much either. He just seemed... empty," Mingyue pushes his face into his arms. "One night, he dragged me out of bed and took me down to Haelun'or... He didn't really say much during the journey, just that he had a job there and that we'd be staying for the foreseeable future."
He takes a deep breath, releasing it more shakily than he'd intended. "The rest was a bit of a blur, I was so tired... We ended up at our uncle's house, everyone was talking and then yelling... By the end of it, my brother left and never came back. Haven't seen him since."
Mingyue lifts his head again to meet the old lady's eyes. "Admittedly, I never waited for him either, considering I left that house 5 years later, running into the night. I just couldn't take it anymore. It hurts being reminded every day, y'know, that I'm not this perfect kind of high elf. I'm small... And my ears are... well, they're pointed at least... I've been a drifter ever since. Taking odd jobs, working for board... Don't really know why I bother... I'm not really looking for anything... Well... I guess technically-- Ah, nevermind..."
Just as the dust begins to settle, Mingyue finds himself abruptly standing up, hand placed firmly over his bag as he leans down to look at the lady with a calculating glare. "I've answered your question, so now answer mine. Fair's fair, isn't it?"
[Sorry if this is long, I didn't really know how much to write ;7;! Hope whoever reviews this has a wonderful day!]
