Pale blue eyes peered out from amidst the crowd, watching several men
standing before a fire. Their faces were solemn, postures rigid. Their
uniforms were crisp and perfect, shoulders emblazoned with the burning fist
of the town's militia. His father stood apart from them, features stern,
yet proud. It was a ceremony, and his brother was first to be sworn in and
tasked to keep the law in their town. He wanted to be his brother in that
moment, to see his father looking on him like that. The ceremony was long,
but each moment kept him captivated, wanting dearly to be a part of what was
going on
The years wore on, and their city was peaceful, aside from the daily minor
'thefts and assaults of any small town. Venzin set himself to training,'
already establishing himself as a skilled fighter by the autumn of his
fifteenth year. He would join his father and his brother, it was already a
forgone conclusion, awaiting only a few others to be prepared before the
ceremony. It took just one night, when the winds that blew promised the
coming winter, that everything would change
He was riding with his brother when it happened. His father was sick, in
his deathbed and they were traveling seeking out medicine for him. Venzin
was outraged that his brother, a member of the town guard, would be stopped
outside of town, but the older man spoke patiently. "Give them the money,;
we will find another way." Surly and shocked out he handed over the purse
of coins, but bandit struck at him and training and instinct took over, as
he blocked the blow and retaliated un-horsing the bandit. "No!" His
brother cried out shoving him out of the way as two crossbows twanged.
There was a sharp pain in the back of his head, and the last thing he saw
was the face of the one unhorsed, the mask having fallen off. It was the
Lord Mayor's son. Venzin lay for weeks, recovering from the beating he had
taken while his father died for want of the medicine they had been sent to
fetch. That loss compounded the pain of his brother's murder and the
thought of revenge settled him while he sweat out the fever from the wound.
Not long after he recovered, he met his brother's murderer on the street,
walking with the Mayor himself. Even the older man's title could not stop
the rage that fell from Venzin's lips, which quickly escalated into a fist
fight, just as swiftly ended by the town guard. Venzin attempted to plead
his case to the Captain and the man promised that he would handle the
matter. Some time later, rumors began to flow, questioning Venzin's sanity
and reliability. He was asked not to return to training.
Certain in his conviction that the mayor's son deserved to be behind the
law, Venzin began to make other inquiries and found a source who was willing
to speak out against the nobleman, but the price for such exposure would not
come cheaply. He would speak only if Venzin returned with a rare artifact
from the nearby ruins. Though his skin crawled as he traversed the ancient
stones, he held his fear at bay with the memory of his brother. It took
days of searching through the ancient library before he found the book that
matched the description he had been given.
Curious about what he was retrieving he opened the book and began looking
through it and he very quickly realized it was in a language he couldn't
read. Bored, he tilted the book, letting the pages skim past until he saw a
whole paragraph he could understand. He was halfway through reading it
before it began. He felt eyes on his back, but it didn't matter. He
couldn't look up from what he was reading. The fire burned down, leaving
nothing but the moonlight to read by, but he sensed no change. It was two
full days later that he reached the end of the book. He rose, stretching
stiff muscles and ignoring the pressing pains of hunger for other necessary
concerns before continuing his journey towards home.
Along the way he found the men he was looking for, but instead of fear he
felt only conviction. "Look what we have here... A witness." The lords
son spoke with a twisted grin. Venzin didn't think and acting on instinct
from the book, his hand lifted and a blast of fire enveloped the three of
them. Nothing was left, not even their horses. A twisted grin passed his
lips, and his plan changed. He never returned home...
