27th of Winter, 513 AV
It was rather late, yet Ollic found himself awake and staring out at the streets of Lhavit. Things had become stressful for him the past few days. Things had gotten out of hand at the Catholicon a few times, once almost getting him fired from his job, but thankfully someone had caught his mistake before he had further harmed someone.
Today was no different. The only thing that changed was that Ollic found himself sleeping on the job, something even he would never do. However, for the past few weeks, he hadn’t been sleeping very well, the past couple of nights, not at all. He had been running on empty and it was starting to show.
He couldn’t explain the occurrence of what was troubling him. He didn’t understand why he was so distracted and what was haunting him into behaving the way he was. He wasn’t sleeping, he was feeling gloomier than normal and his appetite had gone south for the winter.
As Ollic stared out his apartment window, he grew angrier and angrier at himself. Why couldn’t he impress anyone? Why couldn’t he prove his worth to those that mattered to him? His own mother hadn’t thought more of him other than average. His own father was hardly around to watch him grow up and when he was he was either sleeping or busy away in his room ‘working’.
Memories started to flash inside his mind, like a fire being ignited and put out at a rapid and impossible pace; like lightning hitting the earth below him and striking trees into smithereens. That is what he felt at this particular moment- like he was being torn into a million pieces.
Feeling like his mind was being tampered with, his eyes turned to coal, his mouth screwed up into a nasty grin as he walked away from the window into the centre of the room, absentmindedly grabbing underneath the bed for a large shard of glass from a broken bottle he had found outside the Scholar's Demise.
Taking it in his hand he was struck by yet another memory. This one was of his mother and him whilst his father was away on a business trip to Zeltiva.
The two of them were in the dining room of their house, snow blissfully falling outside the window when his mother brought up a despised question, one Ollic had received every night in repetition.
“Did you study today? Did you memorize the difference between-“
“No, mum,” he had interrupted her as he played with the food on the plate that sat in front of him with his fork. He hated how these conversations went, so he wanted to mix it up, for he hated studied at all today and felt it was good for him to take a break.
“I don’t want to study anymore for shyke I’m not going to care about.”
However, this was not what his mother thought. Her face got all heated and her eyes grew dark as she threw back her chair to stand up. Storming over to his side of the table, she grabbed a death grip onto his left ear and dragged him out of his chair and into the back room.
“That is not how you talk to your mother,” she had shrieked at him, spit flying off her tongue and onto Ollic’s face. With that, she closed the door behind her and locked it, Ollic starting to tremble in his socks. What was she planning on doing to him?
Turning around was all he could catch before a terrible burning sensation seared his left cheek. His eyes began to blur with unsuspecting tears before his mother lunged at him again only surprisingly a belt was in her hands. Questions mounted inside Ollic’s brain but the only thing that seemed to surface was the question of why?
Why him? Why now? Why can’t his opinions and thoughts matter? Why can’t he have a perfect, happy and accepting family living a normal and boring life? Why must it be filled with such strong passion that it turns into distressed possession?
Feeling territorial out of instinct, Ollic ran to the door, pushing his mother aside. This only angered her more and as if he had meant to hurt her, she lashed out at him again and pelted him across his back.
Falling to the floor at the base of the door, his mother dragged him back to the centre of the room and began to lecture him again.
“You will grow up and continue this families doctoral streak, you hear me? You won’t be homeless living on the streets, you hear? You will be diligent, because your parents won’t look out for you forever, got it?”
And with every question that escaped her lips, he was struck across his body with a leather belt, one of his father’s he presumed.
The stinging sensation lasted for a few seconds, but that was not enough to adjust in time for another slap. However this one was different, it was from his mother’s flesh, her hand. Warm liquid began to drip down the side of his face and into his mouth until he recognized the taste and knew his mother’s nails had left an indentation of broken flesh on his cheek.
Tears were now streaming down from his eyes, now the colour of a frozen sea. He was terrified, but the feelings of guilt and sorrow got the best of him, for it was his fault that he wasn’t the son his mother had wanted. He was rebellious and undesirable and there was no faking the hurt he bestowed upon his family. He was worthless and weak and would never amount to anything and this realisation would haunt him forever.
“I’m sorry mother!” he cried out right before another strike hit him on the back. It burned like a bite from a poisonous snake, but if he were to fight it, it would last longer.
This was the first of many punishments, however, Ollic was good at staying out of trouble so only a few followed that night. A night of scary punishment and terrifyingly sad realisation.
“Sorry doesn’t cut your lack of determination. What do you plan to do when you are old enough to care for yourself? Steal things from people off the streets? Not my son!”
Trying to better the situation only made it that much worse as Ollic said, “I won’t do that, please, mother, I’ll find something else to do, I promise!”
“Lies!” she countered as she continued to strike him with the whip of leather, the belt buckle bruising his bones and breaking blood vessels inside of his skin. He felt sharp pin pricks of blood seeping through his shirt and new that he had done a terrible thing.
“I wish dad were hear, not you!” It had just slipped out of his mouth and he wished with all he could muster that his mother had taped his mouth shut.
Swirling back into real time, Ollic found himself standing in his apartment building, a shard of broken glass in his hand bloody and his wrists dripping with a metallic smelling red liquid. It had been done, all of his built up emotions had been drained out of him. Tears were stained on his cheeks and his head was pounding, his wrists were tainted with blood, but overall he was relieved and felt as if a small weight had been lifted off of him.
Realising that the floor he was standing on was tainted too, he rushed to find something to clean his mess and wrap his fresh wounds.
Ripping the pillow sheet from the pillow, he began to wipe the spill from the hard wood flooring, dabbing at his own wounds with the opposite side. All the while he was cleaning he tried desperately to keep his mind empty, but being alone didn’t grant him such lenience.
As if thunder was roaring right above him, Ollic’s head felt like it was about to burst open. Instinctively he ran over to his pouch on the bedside table and retrieved a small jar of his best friend, a friend he couldn’t use all that often due to its high price and how few of dosages it had.
Lazy gel it was called and he applied it, a few minutes later being enveloped in a coaxing ecstasy of simplicity. The colour was teal and it smelled like candy, and this lulled Ollic into a different realm of reality.
It was a memory of him and his father as they were outside in the forest, fresh rime coating the limbs of trees and the surface of rocks.
The two of them were dressed from head to toe in furry pelts and his father was telling him the story about how he was out in these very woods trying to find a flower for the love of his life.
It was love at first sight he explained and it was his mother whom he was trying to impress. However, there was a large wolf at the foot of a tree blocking his pathway to a glorious and magnificent flower. He was to pick it to prove his worthiness and romantic attributes to whom he thought beautiful.
However, instead of being attacked by the wolf, he simple stood as stoic as ever looking down upon his father with a curious expression on his face. Ollic’s father was partially terrified, but he kept his calm and simply reached out for the flower at the foot of the wolf, remaining eye contact.
“Wow, really?” Ollic had asked him as a few small puffs of snow fell from a tree above him and onto his nose.
Chuckling and wiping his gloved hand across his face, Ollic’s father smiled and told him that the wolf hadn’t attacked him because he wasn’t being attacked. It’s a balance thing, and that if the two have respect for one another, they will remain that way.
Amazed, Ollic continued to listen to his father’s story, for it was the story of how Ollic came to be- how his parents fell in love to give birth to him.
“Anyways,” he continued as he began to explain how the wolf had nodded his head in recognition to him before he walked out the way he came. It was fantastic experience, he told his son, but also a terrifying one.
“And what happened after?” Ollic pressed, leaning closer to his father as the two of them dodged pine needles from trees that had cornered them on either side. They were nearing a small stream as his father chuckled again.
“Hold onto your pants, boy, and let me tell the story.”
He continued from the last spot he had left off. He was leaving the wolf behind and its majestic qualities to return to the love of his life. He gave her the flower and she took it, however, she was a professional at playing hard to get before, so her next turn of the back was to be expected.
“So what did you do?” Ollic asked, his eyes as large as saucers.
There was a long pause before a boyish grin latched onto his father’s lips as he said, “Well, I kissed her, boy.”
Bewildered, Ollic asked, “That works?” and getting another award winning, heart stuttering chuckle, his father retaliated with a simple shrug.
“Perhaps I was lucky or perhaps the gods and goddesses above knew that we were meant for each other so they let it be.”
A blast of warm air hit him in the face as Ollic returned back to present time, new tears plastered onto his cheeks. His father was so good to him, yet he had to die from an otherworldly illness. He bets he could have saved him if he knew what he knows now about what had given his father the sickness, but the sheer thought is enough to have anyone burst out laughing. It was a long shot and simply thinking about it was enough to deflate his self-esteem.
Ollic looked down at his wrists and noticed that the bleeding had finally stopped, soothing his nerves. They weren’t too deep and through the vague knowledge of his consciousness in harming himself, he was glad that he hadn’t cut too deep as to need stitches.
Hokato, his Ivaski, trotted over to him from behind the bed, where she had been sleeping up until now. She looked at Ollic and his pained expression and knew that he had been suffering from another panic attack, another depressive episode, yet another memory induced toxin that infiltrated his heart at an alarming and highly damaging rate.
Whimpering as to get his attention, she planted her head in Ollic’s lap. He smiled down at her with about the fakest smile anyone could ever give to someone they were trying to fool and told her that he was fine.
Hokato knew of course and whispered into his thoughts to stop tricking himself, that he was in trouble and needed help, but he simply brushed away the thought like his mother always did and got up. Since when had he fallen to the floor?
His balance was wobbly and his perception was distorted and he knew the lazy gel was taking its toll and giving Ollic some sort of relief.
Out of pure irrational desire, Ollic grasped a decent stance before woozily stumbling to the door. Opening it and stepping through, he called out to Hokato that he was going to be back before he shut the door behind him, forgetting to lock it, but caring less about such an issue.
Right now, he needed entertainment and pleasure and he had seen the perfect place the first day he had arrived in Lhavit. He had run right by it and it was too hard to miss. It was called the Red Lantern and its purpose was to please the customers in an unusual way, a way Ollic was determined to find out about.
It was rather late, yet Ollic found himself awake and staring out at the streets of Lhavit. Things had become stressful for him the past few days. Things had gotten out of hand at the Catholicon a few times, once almost getting him fired from his job, but thankfully someone had caught his mistake before he had further harmed someone.
Today was no different. The only thing that changed was that Ollic found himself sleeping on the job, something even he would never do. However, for the past few weeks, he hadn’t been sleeping very well, the past couple of nights, not at all. He had been running on empty and it was starting to show.
He couldn’t explain the occurrence of what was troubling him. He didn’t understand why he was so distracted and what was haunting him into behaving the way he was. He wasn’t sleeping, he was feeling gloomier than normal and his appetite had gone south for the winter.
As Ollic stared out his apartment window, he grew angrier and angrier at himself. Why couldn’t he impress anyone? Why couldn’t he prove his worth to those that mattered to him? His own mother hadn’t thought more of him other than average. His own father was hardly around to watch him grow up and when he was he was either sleeping or busy away in his room ‘working’.
Memories started to flash inside his mind, like a fire being ignited and put out at a rapid and impossible pace; like lightning hitting the earth below him and striking trees into smithereens. That is what he felt at this particular moment- like he was being torn into a million pieces.
Feeling like his mind was being tampered with, his eyes turned to coal, his mouth screwed up into a nasty grin as he walked away from the window into the centre of the room, absentmindedly grabbing underneath the bed for a large shard of glass from a broken bottle he had found outside the Scholar's Demise.
Taking it in his hand he was struck by yet another memory. This one was of his mother and him whilst his father was away on a business trip to Zeltiva.
The two of them were in the dining room of their house, snow blissfully falling outside the window when his mother brought up a despised question, one Ollic had received every night in repetition.
“Did you study today? Did you memorize the difference between-“
“No, mum,” he had interrupted her as he played with the food on the plate that sat in front of him with his fork. He hated how these conversations went, so he wanted to mix it up, for he hated studied at all today and felt it was good for him to take a break.
“I don’t want to study anymore for shyke I’m not going to care about.”
However, this was not what his mother thought. Her face got all heated and her eyes grew dark as she threw back her chair to stand up. Storming over to his side of the table, she grabbed a death grip onto his left ear and dragged him out of his chair and into the back room.
“That is not how you talk to your mother,” she had shrieked at him, spit flying off her tongue and onto Ollic’s face. With that, she closed the door behind her and locked it, Ollic starting to tremble in his socks. What was she planning on doing to him?
Turning around was all he could catch before a terrible burning sensation seared his left cheek. His eyes began to blur with unsuspecting tears before his mother lunged at him again only surprisingly a belt was in her hands. Questions mounted inside Ollic’s brain but the only thing that seemed to surface was the question of why?
Why him? Why now? Why can’t his opinions and thoughts matter? Why can’t he have a perfect, happy and accepting family living a normal and boring life? Why must it be filled with such strong passion that it turns into distressed possession?
Feeling territorial out of instinct, Ollic ran to the door, pushing his mother aside. This only angered her more and as if he had meant to hurt her, she lashed out at him again and pelted him across his back.
Falling to the floor at the base of the door, his mother dragged him back to the centre of the room and began to lecture him again.
“You will grow up and continue this families doctoral streak, you hear me? You won’t be homeless living on the streets, you hear? You will be diligent, because your parents won’t look out for you forever, got it?”
And with every question that escaped her lips, he was struck across his body with a leather belt, one of his father’s he presumed.
The stinging sensation lasted for a few seconds, but that was not enough to adjust in time for another slap. However this one was different, it was from his mother’s flesh, her hand. Warm liquid began to drip down the side of his face and into his mouth until he recognized the taste and knew his mother’s nails had left an indentation of broken flesh on his cheek.
Tears were now streaming down from his eyes, now the colour of a frozen sea. He was terrified, but the feelings of guilt and sorrow got the best of him, for it was his fault that he wasn’t the son his mother had wanted. He was rebellious and undesirable and there was no faking the hurt he bestowed upon his family. He was worthless and weak and would never amount to anything and this realisation would haunt him forever.
“I’m sorry mother!” he cried out right before another strike hit him on the back. It burned like a bite from a poisonous snake, but if he were to fight it, it would last longer.
This was the first of many punishments, however, Ollic was good at staying out of trouble so only a few followed that night. A night of scary punishment and terrifyingly sad realisation.
“Sorry doesn’t cut your lack of determination. What do you plan to do when you are old enough to care for yourself? Steal things from people off the streets? Not my son!”
Trying to better the situation only made it that much worse as Ollic said, “I won’t do that, please, mother, I’ll find something else to do, I promise!”
“Lies!” she countered as she continued to strike him with the whip of leather, the belt buckle bruising his bones and breaking blood vessels inside of his skin. He felt sharp pin pricks of blood seeping through his shirt and new that he had done a terrible thing.
“I wish dad were hear, not you!” It had just slipped out of his mouth and he wished with all he could muster that his mother had taped his mouth shut.
Swirling back into real time, Ollic found himself standing in his apartment building, a shard of broken glass in his hand bloody and his wrists dripping with a metallic smelling red liquid. It had been done, all of his built up emotions had been drained out of him. Tears were stained on his cheeks and his head was pounding, his wrists were tainted with blood, but overall he was relieved and felt as if a small weight had been lifted off of him.
Realising that the floor he was standing on was tainted too, he rushed to find something to clean his mess and wrap his fresh wounds.
Ripping the pillow sheet from the pillow, he began to wipe the spill from the hard wood flooring, dabbing at his own wounds with the opposite side. All the while he was cleaning he tried desperately to keep his mind empty, but being alone didn’t grant him such lenience.
As if thunder was roaring right above him, Ollic’s head felt like it was about to burst open. Instinctively he ran over to his pouch on the bedside table and retrieved a small jar of his best friend, a friend he couldn’t use all that often due to its high price and how few of dosages it had.
Lazy gel it was called and he applied it, a few minutes later being enveloped in a coaxing ecstasy of simplicity. The colour was teal and it smelled like candy, and this lulled Ollic into a different realm of reality.
It was a memory of him and his father as they were outside in the forest, fresh rime coating the limbs of trees and the surface of rocks.
The two of them were dressed from head to toe in furry pelts and his father was telling him the story about how he was out in these very woods trying to find a flower for the love of his life.
It was love at first sight he explained and it was his mother whom he was trying to impress. However, there was a large wolf at the foot of a tree blocking his pathway to a glorious and magnificent flower. He was to pick it to prove his worthiness and romantic attributes to whom he thought beautiful.
However, instead of being attacked by the wolf, he simple stood as stoic as ever looking down upon his father with a curious expression on his face. Ollic’s father was partially terrified, but he kept his calm and simply reached out for the flower at the foot of the wolf, remaining eye contact.
“Wow, really?” Ollic had asked him as a few small puffs of snow fell from a tree above him and onto his nose.
Chuckling and wiping his gloved hand across his face, Ollic’s father smiled and told him that the wolf hadn’t attacked him because he wasn’t being attacked. It’s a balance thing, and that if the two have respect for one another, they will remain that way.
Amazed, Ollic continued to listen to his father’s story, for it was the story of how Ollic came to be- how his parents fell in love to give birth to him.
“Anyways,” he continued as he began to explain how the wolf had nodded his head in recognition to him before he walked out the way he came. It was fantastic experience, he told his son, but also a terrifying one.
“And what happened after?” Ollic pressed, leaning closer to his father as the two of them dodged pine needles from trees that had cornered them on either side. They were nearing a small stream as his father chuckled again.
“Hold onto your pants, boy, and let me tell the story.”
He continued from the last spot he had left off. He was leaving the wolf behind and its majestic qualities to return to the love of his life. He gave her the flower and she took it, however, she was a professional at playing hard to get before, so her next turn of the back was to be expected.
“So what did you do?” Ollic asked, his eyes as large as saucers.
There was a long pause before a boyish grin latched onto his father’s lips as he said, “Well, I kissed her, boy.”
Bewildered, Ollic asked, “That works?” and getting another award winning, heart stuttering chuckle, his father retaliated with a simple shrug.
“Perhaps I was lucky or perhaps the gods and goddesses above knew that we were meant for each other so they let it be.”
A blast of warm air hit him in the face as Ollic returned back to present time, new tears plastered onto his cheeks. His father was so good to him, yet he had to die from an otherworldly illness. He bets he could have saved him if he knew what he knows now about what had given his father the sickness, but the sheer thought is enough to have anyone burst out laughing. It was a long shot and simply thinking about it was enough to deflate his self-esteem.
Ollic looked down at his wrists and noticed that the bleeding had finally stopped, soothing his nerves. They weren’t too deep and through the vague knowledge of his consciousness in harming himself, he was glad that he hadn’t cut too deep as to need stitches.
Hokato, his Ivaski, trotted over to him from behind the bed, where she had been sleeping up until now. She looked at Ollic and his pained expression and knew that he had been suffering from another panic attack, another depressive episode, yet another memory induced toxin that infiltrated his heart at an alarming and highly damaging rate.
Whimpering as to get his attention, she planted her head in Ollic’s lap. He smiled down at her with about the fakest smile anyone could ever give to someone they were trying to fool and told her that he was fine.
Hokato knew of course and whispered into his thoughts to stop tricking himself, that he was in trouble and needed help, but he simply brushed away the thought like his mother always did and got up. Since when had he fallen to the floor?
His balance was wobbly and his perception was distorted and he knew the lazy gel was taking its toll and giving Ollic some sort of relief.
Out of pure irrational desire, Ollic grasped a decent stance before woozily stumbling to the door. Opening it and stepping through, he called out to Hokato that he was going to be back before he shut the door behind him, forgetting to lock it, but caring less about such an issue.
Right now, he needed entertainment and pleasure and he had seen the perfect place the first day he had arrived in Lhavit. He had run right by it and it was too hard to miss. It was called the Red Lantern and its purpose was to please the customers in an unusual way, a way Ollic was determined to find out about.
