[Flashback] A Stolen Book (Alric)

[Wrenmae]

Dusk had a certain way of quieting things down, like a veil was gently laid between sound and ears so that everything was muffled. Once, he'd heard the city of Lhavit actually began at dusk, people retreating from their daylit homes to revel in the night. He'd like to see that sometime, truly...but for now it was as if all of Alvadas grew to a barely resonate hush.

The anger in him was temporary, more the predictable outcome of not getting it completely than anything else. It was over moments after he hit the ground, seeping into the dirt around his legs. As with everything, it wasn't easy to master. His father had always said to be patient, that the right customer always came along eventually. The big man had never let anything slip through his fingers...not even the most distasteful painting.

"One day, little Egyptus," he'd say, patting him on the head with his thick fingers, "Someone is going to find this beautiful, and I don't want to say I had to get rid of it because I didn't believe."

The ember of love there was one of the few he dared keep. Vayt had not stolen his father from him, nor did Wrenmae cause his demise. The merchant likely perished in the Kalea ranges, trudging toward some lost sense of rescue, the need to keep his family from dying out there.

But he never counted on Wrenmae's weakness.

He realized he'd been drifting when Alric started speaking, bringing the world into harsh reality. He had to look foolish, staring up at his friend with wide eyes, uncomprehending for the briefest of instants before a fierce grin overtook confusion.

Of course Alric would say yes, he'd offered...hadn't he? His friend had never proven to be dishonest nor given Wrenmae reason to doubt his sincerity. The coughs that interrupted his sentences worried the thief, but Wrenmae tried to justify that without shelter...he may run out of places to be. His adoptive parents were old now, the sicknesses rattling their frail frames like storms. Any longer and they would perish.

He couldn't let that happen.

"Wilmot has a nice ring to it as well," he offered quietly, brushing the dirt off his ragged pants as he followed Alric toward his father, "I'd have to find a change of clothes to wear it properly, I don't think these kinda ratty rags befits it."

Alvin Wilmot was a man with a kindly face, eyes alight within a lined exterior that still was ruddy with life. Books were tucked under his arms, a new present for his son probably, and Wrenmae almost allowed himself to envy. He had received a quill and a blank book for his recent birthday...a meager present from parents of meager means. He couldn't begrudge them their generosity, but such full paged volumes, written of the world and its stories...oh he wished he had but a day in the Wilmot library to pore over tomes.

To lose himself.

He kept pace as best he could, noting Alric sped up just a bit whenever he did, always casting Wrenmae as the follower. He didn't mind, his friend likely needed to broach the subject again. He'd refused for a long time...maybe the father did not want another son at this time.

It already sent his spirits dipping, the idea he'd be refused again. It wasn't that he thought he was garbage it was...well...he had no brother anymore, no sister. Alric was a dear friend and the idea he could be a brother as well?

He didn't realize how strongly he'd begun to hope, at that moment, that things would improve. Only now when they hung in the balance, tipping over some unimaginable drop...did he imagine fear.

Did he imagine loss.

His footsteps almost faltered.

[Alric Wilmot]

As Alric approached his adoptive father, the lump in his throat grew bigger and bigger. He did not let it show of course. He did not want Wrenmae to think he had lied. Especially since he had made that ridiculous vow. Why had he done that? It was a spur of the moment, piece of youthful stupidity. And he really wish hadn't said it. If his father said no now... "Hello Father," said Alric as he embraced his father. His father returned the hug in kind. "It's so nice to have you back! You've been gone all day, you know." Alric's Father beamed at the sight of his son. "Ah, Alric! Yes, I'm sorry it took so long. No one in the bizarre wanted the mirrors, so I had to go wandering for buyers. Then, I had to find my way back to the bizarre to find some books. Then after that..." Alric had thought for a second that his Father had forgotten what he was talking about. It did not happen often, but occasionally his father's memory would falter. It happened more and more as he grew older. However, now was not one of those times. Their embrace ended and Alvin Wilmot stared blankly behind Alric, with a very fake smile on his face. "Oh, um. Alric, who is you're little friend here?" Alric grimaced, it was better to broach the subject sooner rather than later. "Well, Father, remember Wrenmae? the boy I told you about?" Alvin Wilmot nodded, his smile turning a little more genuine. "Well, this is him. And he wants to become a Wilmot. We did talk about this remember, Father? You said another son would be welcome? Well he's finally decided to join! So, say hello to Wrenmae Wilmot, my new brother." Alric said all this in a strained voice, trying to make it seem like a declaration to Wrenmae, and a question to his Father. Although, he had really laid it on thick near the end. He hoped his Father wouldn't have any problems with it. For a second, though, it seemed as if his Father was about to say something to him. However, he kept glancing at Wrenmae as he opened his mouth. Finally, he cleared his throat and said, "Well, then, It's an honor to welcome you to the family, Wrenmae. Why don't we all go inside and clean up a bit?" Alric beamed at his father's words, and turned to enter the Manor. As he did so, however, Alvin Wilmot grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him near. "Alric, you and I will have to discuss this later, okay?",Alvin whispered Alric nodded, "Of course, but... Wrenmae can be a Wilmot, right?" "Of course, he's your friend. But, do me a favor. Don't ask any more people to join the family will you? Any more, and people might realize we aren't as we used to be." Alric nodded once more, "I promise, no more. But we best get going. Wrenmae might be getting suspicious." Alvin Wilmot nodded, and led Alric to the Manor, putting on his best smile and trying to be happy about the situation for his son.

[Wrenmae]

Small request :

Hey mate, could you show me a bit how to work a posting template?

Wrenmae had no inkling that he had not been breathing before Alvin spoke. There was only the silence of his heartbeat, rattling against his chest. Could he morph into an insect? Could he hide? For some reason all the angry shopkeeps and suspicious townsfolk in the whole of Alvadas did not unnerve him so soundly as Alvin did at this moment. It wasn't that the patriarch of the Wilmot family was imposing in any way, but his word held the key to family or loneliness. There was a sort of power there, then. Wrenmae felt almost minuscule against that presence.

But Alvin smiled, his face splitting into comfort from worn exhaustion...and the words swelled with importance. How strange. Sometimes, one needed be born in order to qualify for a family, but with the flourish of but single sentences, Alvin had tied destiny to Wrenmae soul and pulled him from the mires of his imposed loneliness. He grinned at Alric, winking and smiling, his entire body quivering with nervous energy. He had no words to speak, not then, instead there were only emotions. There were only flashing lights, only amazement, only swelling appreciation...all things that defied his ability to speak, that defied the creation of letters and sounds.

Nodding vigorously, he dashed into the front doors of the Wilmot manner, lost of course, but eager to explore. He didn't want to wait on the others, too enraptured in this speed lent to his feet, this spring to his step. He dashed up the stairs, peeled down painted halls, and although it was not as furnished as he'd expected...he could care less. There was so much room! He ran, sprinted, avoided, dashes, and chuckled down the hallway.

Nothing was left but his past, whipping in the wind behind him. Pieces fractured and fell, crashing to the ground behind him in sounds no one but him could hear.

There was only the present and the future now...at least for this moment. And that felt right.

[Bedlam]

Thread Completed!

Alric

Experience:
1 Subterfuge
2 Persuasion

Lores:
A New Brother

Wrenmae

Experience:
2 Running
1 Morphing

Lores:
A New Brother

Notes:

I have some catching up to do, starting today. Sorry! It’s been busy.

Alric, I’ll have you know, your study of the fish-people didn’t actually involve anything that you were learning about them, so I didn’t feel comfortable giving you a lore for it.