Character History:
Eighteen years ago a small child was born within the Temple of the Black Sun. Weather it happened through the foolishness of a very pregnant, yet devout and worried mother, a trick of fate, or the influence of a god, none but Rhysol could tell. With the simple act of being born into the world, the child, Kuro Vussin, killed his mother and sent Gaius, his father, seeking refuge that only a bottle could provide. It was a devastating tragedy that would set the tone his childhood and adolescence.
Growing up, Kuro was a quiet and somber child, never really liking attention of any sort. Truly, his only friend, and the only reason he even made it out of infancy was his orphaned older cousin, Shayana. Growing up, she was both his confidant and his caretaker, and very much acted the part of a loving mother and older sister. But, being only nine herself at the time that he was brought home, there was only so much that she could do. She had been orphaned at a young age and taken in years before Kuro had even been conceived, and although he never found out the cause behind her parents deaths, he knew it had something to do with the Ebonstryfe.
Although life started out as well as it could have under the circumstances, it was a steady decline. What had started as occasional binge drinking quickly developed into a full blown case of alcoholism, complete with violent fits of rage among other, decidedly more unpleasant outbursts. Thankfully, Shayana did what she could to shield him from his father’s drunken rage, but after a time he found ways to use her to vent his rage and alcohol fueled passions; though he never seemed to tire of beating Kuro. Kuro; the one who had killed his wife. Kuro; the one who had ruined his life. Kuro; his damned son.
Perhaps it was these incessant beatings and feelings of guilt for the pain that his cousin went through to try to protect him that caused something deep inside his psyche to break. Perhaps it would have happened regardless, or maybe it was even the will of a particularly twisted god. About the time that he turned six, he went to Shayana, his only solitude, his only friend, and the only person in his whole tiny world who didn’t hurt him. He had been hearing whispers that seemingly came from his own head. It told him that very soon they would be free. The whisper said many things, all of them dripping with pleasure and potential that was lost on the boy, who was but a young child. What was not lost on him was the Voice’s promise that they would very soon be free of his father’s wrath. Shayana, being a very devout follower of Rhysol, as had Lysandra, his own mother had been, she told him that she felt it was a sign. A sign from Rhysol, and that the whisper should be trusted.
The whisper could be trusted, she had said. In the end, it probably wouldn’t have mattered and he would have succumbed to the sweet whisperings of the voice within his mind, but she had said that it came from Rhysol. Rhysol the god. Aided by the whisper within his mind, dots began to connect within the young child’s mind. He was born in the Temple itself, the holiest place to Rhysol. It had to be His will that echoed through Kuro’s young mind. If the will of a god spoke to him, than that made him special, maybe even loved by Rhysol. Rhysol was the father of Ravok, just as the Voice was the mother; Rhysol was his father. He came to this realization on his ninth birthday, a day exceptional in many ways, the least of which were his father’s exceptional drunkenness and violence. It was that day that he stopped calling himself Kuro, and dubbed himself Kora. It was not a name of his invention, but one that the whispering within his skull had given to him. His ninth birthday was the day the plotting began. It was also the day that the whisper ceased being a whisper, and became the Voice.
Within the next six years, Kora had changed dramatically, gone was his somber and seemingly remorseful visage. He became somewhat outgoing, which allowed his inquisitive and intellectual nature to shine through. He was curious about a great many things, always full of questions, and he seemed to have a sixth sense for people, ever knowing just how to go about getting along with them, or at least staying off of their bad side. It was somewhat mysterious that three days after his sixteenth birthday both Gaius and Shayana had been found murdered. It was a rather clear-cut seeming case, in a drunken stupror, Gaius had taken Shayana once again to vent his passions, only she’d stabbed him with a small blade, knicking his heart in the process. Dying, and realizing what she’d done, in one final act of rage, he’d smashed her in the head with a nearby vase, killing her instantly. It was a gruesome scene, one which, privately, brought Kora much pleasure.
Left with his father’s inheritance and more guile than a sixteen year old boy ought to have; he stayed on at the house, venturing out into the city whenever he needed food or whenever he could go to worship, or whenever he simply wished to venture out. Most of his teenage years were spent reading what was left of his mother’s old collection of books or occasionally pilfering small goods from the merchants in town. |
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