[Cobalt Mountains]The Beginning of Life [FLASHBACK]

[Liam]

Timestamp: Winter 47, 475 AV It was a cold winter night, snow dancing in the gentle breeze glittering from the moonlight. Screams rang out from the small cottage just off the road. Screams of pain, but also screams of joy, for the one who was screaming never thought she would live long enough to feel the pain she was feeling then. A mother lay in her bed inside the little cottage, her husband standing next to her holding her hand as the midwife delivered the child that none of them thought would be born. The mother was sick, dieing, with some awful disease, but the child she birthed that night was born healthy and strong. The mother was able to see her child, to love him, to be with him and nurture him at least for a little while before later that night she passed away, leaving the father with a newborn infant to care for and not a clue as how to do it. The father was a retired knight of Syliras, a good man, a warrior, but not a caregiver. After just three days the man knew he was in over his head, even with the occasional help of the midwife who lived down the road. He knew he would need more help raising the boy, at least until he was older, and so the retired knight set out for his brother's home in the city. It was about a days ride from the mountain cottage where he and his wife made their home, made all the more treacherous by the winter snows. But it was a journey he would have to make. The man readied his best horse, brought his warmest blankets and wrapped the child inside them, placing him in the carriage that would take them to the city. He strapped in his horse and they set out down the mountain, following the long path to Syliras. They would never make it. About three bells into their journey the old knight began to sense he was being followed. There wasn't much he could do about it, he had his son with him and he couldn't rightly leave the boy alone. All he could do was press on and hope that who or whatever was following him would let them be. His hope did not hold out for long as he began to see more and more signs that he was being followed. The knight knew eventually he would have to fight, that it would be the only way to protect his newborn son. Still he pressed on, hoping to get as close to the city as he could before the inevitable happened. He did not make it much farther. As the knight rounded a corner he saw a man standing in the road, a large axe slung casually over his shoulder. The man held out a hand, shouting for the traveler to stop. "The toll is ten mizas! Pay up or pay with your blood." The old knight had little to give, but he willingly paid the mizas. Perhaps that would have been enough had it not been for his precious cargo. Just then the infant decided to cry, drawing the attention of the thief. "What's that you got in there, ey? A baby, is it? Well now, that could fetch a right good price down in Sunberth. Maybe you should hand him over, old man." The knight refused, drawing a laugh from the ruffian, who waved a hand summoning five of his fellows from the trees. "Well then, looks like we have our self a problem now, don't we old man? Hows about I ask you one more time. Give us the baby, give us that nice sword of yours, and give us your food, and maybe we'll let you keep your clothes before we send you down the road, eh? Sound good to you?" The old man drew his sword, "I will never give you my son. If you want him, you'll have to take him." The leader of the brigands grinned a devilish grin. "Well now, that can be arranged." The leader hefted his axe, smashing down at the old knight who flipped backward out of the carriage with surprising grace and landed squarely on his feet. Reverting to the hardened warrior he once was, the old man quickly calculated his chances of winning the battle. All six of the men were armed, and all of them looked like they had a few battles under their belts. It did not look good, but the knight was not about to let them take his son without a fight. The leader of the band shouted the order to attack and the closest of the men drew a longsword, charging in and attacking with an overhand strike aimed for the shoulder blade. The old man quickly brought his sword up, parallel to the ground and knocked the ruffians blade high, then with the practiced ease of a warrior who had seen many battles brought his sword back around and left a large gash in the ruffians midsection. The man grasped for his stomach, feeling the warmth of his own blood covering his hand. A look of shocked surprise came over him as he looked down at his own intestines spilling from his gut, and the man could only let out a quiet whimper as he fell backward and hit the ground. This gave the other men pause, but after an encouraging shout from their leader who had just managed to pull his axe out of the wooden carriage two more men approached, a bit more cautiously than the first. One of them carried a heavy mace, the other a short sword. The man with the mace was the first one to make a move, and it took all of the old knight's strength to deflect the heavy blow. Though he was distracted by the attack, he still took note of the second man circling around behind him, and spun just in time to deflect an attack from the shortsword. A second attack from the sword nearly hit its mark, but the old man dodged just in time, only to receive a shattering blow to the shoulder by the mace of the man standing behind him. The pain would have caused a lesser warrior to drop his weapon, but the old man held on, switching to his offhand. Both his opponents attacked at the same time, and all he could do was duck as their weapons clashed together. Using the momentary distraction the man twisted around, slashing with his sword and cutting the leg of the mace wielding bandit right off. Both he and the bandit cried out in pain, the bandit from his leg and the knight from the sudden slicing pain across his back. He spun back around just in time to block another fatal blow then pushed with all his might, knocking the bandit off balance. Taking the advantage the old knight dropped his sword and tackled the bandit, wrestling the short blade from his grasp and plunging it into the bandit's chest. Gasping in pain the knight climbed back to his feet, reaching for his sword as he did so. He stumbled over to the now one-legged bandit and plunged his sword into the man's heart, ending his pain, then turned his gaze to the three remaining men. "That was my brother you just killed, old man. You'll pay for that. You and your son!" The leader, enraged by the death of his brother charged forward along with the remaining two bandits. They carried daggers, he carried an axe. It was three on one, and the old man was seriously injured. Still, he managed to put up a good fight, fatally wounding all three men before falling to the ground himself, his own wounds having become too much to bear. He knew he would not survive, and prayed to whatever gods were listening that somebody would come by and find his son. If not, then all this had been for nothing.. seven lives to save one, he could only hope his son would make it.

[Liam]

Timestamp: Winter 51, 475 AV An entire day passed and no traveler came down the road, no person heard the cries of the infant stowed away in the carriage, the bitter cold seeping through even the warm blankets wrapped tightly around the child. As night fell it seemed none would find the child until by pure happenstance an old hermit out searching for firewood came by the site. His initial thought was to salvage the cart and bring it home. The horse was long gone, having somehow gotten free of the carriage, but the cart was still in good condition. The scene was not as horrific as one might expect, snow having covered most of the signs of battle. In truth, the old man merely thought the cart abandoned at first until he stumbled over the first of the bodies. There were seven frozen corpses under the snow, and the cart was empty save for one item... a tiny baby wrapped in layer after layer of winter blanket. Frost covered the outermost of the blankets, but the core was still warm enough to keep the hungry baby alive. Forgetting about the bodies and the cart, the old hermit grabbed up the baby and hurriedly made his way to the city, taking the child to his cousin at the Temple of All Gods. The hermit's cousin was a priestess of Rak'Keli. Her name was Laura, and she and was shocked to hear the hermit's story. She quickly examined the baby, determining that he was still in good health and just needed a meal and some love. She offered to let the hermit care for the child, but in his usual manner he declined, preferring to live alone, leaving the priestess to the task of caring for the infant. She named him Liam...

[Liam]

Timestamp: Summer 13, 480 AV "Mama, why don't I have a daddy?" The young Liam was lying in bed, his mother having just finished reading him a story. Normally Liam would have been sound asleep by then, but on this day he was being particularly antsy. His mother shifted uncomfortably beside him, stammering for a moment. This was the first time the boy had asked the priestess about his past, and while she knew she would have to explain it one day she never expected it to be when he was so young. "Uh.. well, Liam. You see, your father. Well, your father was a great man. A proud knight, loved by all the people of Sylira. He fought many battles, but always returned home. But one night, a great evil beset the city, and your father was called by the Grandmaster himself to defeat the evil." Liam listened with wide eyes to every word the priestess told him. "What happened?" The priestess smiled, stroking her sons hair. "Well, he fought the great evil, and drove it away from Syliras. But in doing so, he sealed his own fate. You see, in order to keep the evil at bay, your father had to sacrifice himself for the good of all of us. He saved us all, but he could not save himself." Liam looked up at his mother suddenly, panic in his eyes. "You mean, my father is dead?" His mother smiled. "No, son. Your father lives on. Touched by his sacrifice, the great mother Rak'Keli plucked him from our world just before his death and healed him. He lives on with her, but he can never return. If he were to leave her side, death would claim him. So you see son, while your father may never come home, he still lives and loves you dearly." Liam smiled sadly up at his mother, accepting the story as truth. His father was a hero, but while he still lived he would never get to see him.

[Liam]

Timestamp: Winter 14, 480 AV "Liam, I am so proud of you. You will make a great priest one day." Liam smiled up at his mother for a moment before turning back to the task at hand. A man had come in to the temple that day with a minor injury seeking aid. Seeing this as a great opportunity for her son to learn, the priestess gave him the task of fixing the man up. So far Liam was doing an excellent job. He had already cleaned out the wound, and was preparing to stitch it up. It only needed three stitches, and the man winced each time as Liam stuck the needle through him. Liam focused hard on each movement of his hands, carefully pushing the needle through the man's skin on one side of the wound out through the other, threading the string through and pulling it taut. "Sorry," Liam muttered, "I can't just heal you up like my mom could. But don't worry, you'll be good in a few days." The injured man shot a glance at the priestess, "Don't know why you couldn't just patch me up, Laura. Whats the use of that mark of yours if you don't use it?" The priestess just smiled back at the man, patting Liam on the head. "My gifts are for those that need it. You'll be just fine, Liam is doing a wonderful job. See, he's almost done." Liam pulled the last bit of thread, closing up the wound. He then grabbed some wrap from the table next to him and wound it around the mans leg, covering up the wound. "Ok, now, your supposed to put this stuff on it twice a day. And change out your bandages every morning until it heals up." The man stared at Liam for a second then patted him on the head also, "Thanks kid. You did good." Getting up, the man limped out of the temple and back to whatever it was he did. "I did it, mom! I fixed him up good, didn't I?" Laura smiled at her son and gave him a big hug, "Yes you did, Liam. You fixed him up perfectly. Thank Rak'keli for giving me such a gifted healer as a son!" Liam grinned and hugged his mom back, enjoying the positive attention when he heard a voice from behind. "Ahem... excuse me, ma'am. May I have a word with you?" Mother and son both turned to see a well dressed man standing in the doorway, a rolled up parchment in his hand. Two knights waited patiently behind him. "Oh, of course. What is the problem sir." The man glanced over at Liam and then motioned for the woman to follow him. "We might want to discuss this in private, ma'am." Liam waited patiently outside the door as his mother and the stranger discussed. It was quiet at first until he heard his mother scream out loud. "No!! NO!! You cant! I've raised him all these years! He's my son! A gift from Rak'keli!" In a quieter but still loud voice he could hear the man's reply. "No, he was my brothers son. He is MY nephew. I have documents here to prove it. Now if you don't mind, I'll be taking the boy with me. If you have a problem with that, these men will be happy to escort you to the castle dungeons. Either way, I am taking my nephew." His mothers wailing blew out of the room as the man and the two knights stepped out of the door. The man gave Liam a stern look and gripped his arm firmly. "Come with me, Liam. I'm taking you home."

[Leviathan]

Thread Award! Liam   Skills Skill Gain Info. N/A -- --   Lore Being Fatherless Short Stories: Daddy's Sacrifice Losing Your Mother

Additional CommentsSorry, but just do you know, you cannot earn skills from Past Life in this life. Any skills, even in flashbacks, as a ghost will be kept, but from living to not doesn't work that way. Same as Nuits before they become Nuits, and Ethaefal in their pre-life.