Welcome to Gaia! ::

Introduction Wrote:
~Story 2~
The sun shines! It floods the fields that glow with butterflies, flowers, and long grass. The Jasmin Fields are always beautiful this time of the year.

It’s wild here, like you. Your new clothes are a mess, your carefully arranged hair is likewise in shambles, and you know that your parents are going to kill you when you get home to the holding. But playing with the peasant children requires quite a lot of dirt, and if you try to be careful about it you get called a rich pansy. Spankings are much more preferable then the name-calling.

Trees pose no threat to you; the person you just tagged is the only danger. And then you hear the call of your mother from your house. Amazing how one woman’s lungs can carry that far out if she’s anxious enough. Apologies made all around you grab your horse and high tail it back to the semi-castle that is your house.

Your father, surprisingly, is the one waiting there for you, and your mother has disappeared somewhere into the house. He helps you down and ruffles your hair affectionately. He was young once too it seemed, but your mind rebels at the thought of that. He wishes you a happy birthday and hand’s you a toy wooden shield with your house emblem on it, your eyes sparkle happily as you look up at him.

Now you are ready to begin!


I remember that time...I remember specifically all the times that my parents bothered to shower affection upon me. Those times became all too rare in the years to come. Being the last in line of a long line of minor nobility has the nasty side-effect of being side-lined for the more promising ... and older siblings.

But I get ahead of myself now. It is not the present that we speak of, but the past. The childhood years that bred the current soldier that stands before you now. People crave a reason...a justification to explain away the things that offend or appall them. As if with that explanation they can ward or arm themselves.

Foolishly trite. But that is humanity for you in a nutshell.

But before the man, you must see the child. I introduce you to him now. In all his fallacies and misguided intentions.

It was perhaps 3 hours before he stopped playing lost. By that time, Caer had grown tired of playing the truant and wished for something to eat. It was chilly, and dew was gathering on the grass beneath him.

Getting to his feet, he trampled his way back to the keep, skirting the inept searches and entering in through the servant's entrance.

He'd be able to find something to eat in the kitchen. Dinner would have already been served. But he could ask for something else. The workers there didn't mind offering him some snacks or bits of meat and cheese.

Thinking about food, his stomach rumbled. Rubbing it, he grimaced at the wetness there. He hated being untidy...but it was hard to have adventures without some dirt and water thrown into the mix. At least his clothing was not ripped this time.

His father had nearly whipped him for that last he had hid away from them all. He wasn't sure if it was because he had hid...or merely because of the state in which he returned.

So the childhood went. Sheafs of wheat bowing to the reaper. The scythe of life flashing through the days remorselessly. I eventually grew out of the need for their notice. Nothing I did ever warrented their concern, ane eventually I understood that I only made a fool of myself with such antics geared for their attentions.

Hatred isn't even what I feel, but contempt. Each sibling jockeying for position and crumbs of notice that my parents fed out to them as chickens before the corn. How foolish they look now that I do not peck among them. Even my parents, the giver of such things...pitiful and grasping for power that they feel their due.

Fools, all of them.