Welcome to Gaia! ::

Not completed. Can be found here.

The day had been much too long. He had not been able to sleep last night after the confrontation with his father. Castor had let his father know his dream of the future and his father responded... as positively as he could given the circumstances. He would not spend his life on the fields of battle fighting over a cause he didn't believe just because his father hadn't been able to truly win the glory he deserved in battle. He wouldn't be made into someone else's tool to connect back to their old life. He was going to forge his own path. After what felt like an eternity of waiting school let out for the day, Castor knew he would not be going much longer as he would have to start learning his trade full time.

Without stopping at his home he ran along the small streets of the Obsidian City limits, running down small paths and back alleys on the familiar path to his uncle's shop and home. As he ran the buildings became smaller and more rustic looking than the ones surrounding his school building. It didn't matter to him though, these quiet streets were home to him, where he grew up and where he played when he was younger. Letting out a few pants he quickly opened the door to his uncle's shop, a few chimes jingling to mark his entrance.

Through panting, raspy breaths he looked up saw his uncle, a young man still no more than thirty years to him standing behind the counter not at all surprised to see his nephew at the door. "Why am I not surprised you came here first?" Julius spoke and chuckled just a bit as he motioned with a little wave for Castor to follow him. Julius walked to the back of the shop through a door behind one of the counters, Castor quickly catching up after locking the front door. "Here..." Julius spoke softly as he opened up a long ornate chest with a key. After it was completely open Castors eyes roamed over the weapons laid out before him. In the chest there lay three different styles of swords, one straight and doubled sided, one a thick curved saber, and the finally a two handed sword. There were also a two bows, one small and the other large in the box. It was completely devoid of maces, which stung him a bit inside... he remembered his fathers words... that that path had been shut when he chose to stray from the plan. Surely father was a bit disappointed, but he shouldn't let that stop him now. There was also one small ornate wand in the box.

"I... I..." he didn't know what to choose. He knew that these were the enchanted weapons, that he as soon as he chose one or if one chose him it would stay with him for the rest of his life, much like the mace that always sat strapped to father's hip even though he was home now. "Take your time, there's no need to rush these things." Julius let out in his soft spoken way, observing the young boy.

Letting out a few little breaths he calmed down a bit and looked over the weapons one by one. He didn't want to use the wand that was for sure. His mother was a wise woman, but he didn't want to follow in her footsteps in practicing magic when all his father had taught him up to this point was physical combat skills. One down, four to go. He made up his mind after a few minutes that neither of the bows would work for him too well either, it would be nice to be able to fight from a distance but he had no knowledge of how they worked or how to fight with one.

That left the swords. He looked over all of them and trying to feel it out. He handled weapons like this more than a few times a week, selling them to customers or carrying them around the shop, but this was different. One of these would be his, forever. No matter what he did though, scanning the other blade's appearances and how they would work his eye was always drawn back to the saber... what was it called... a dao? It was fairly short in length even with the curved blade, the entire thing was probably shorter than the length of his arm but it looked... appealing. He wanted it, with an urgency, It was calling out to him, he thought, it was probably just a desire for it but he felt like it was the right choice, the one he wanted to make. Before he knew it he had it in his hand, it had a nice weight to it, a comfortable weight. It was heavy, at least... it was heavier than the wooden clubs he had used up to this point, but it was light enough to wield with one hand.

"Alright then, if that's your choice. Lets get you ready for that first hunt, you have to get a dragon soul to show for Tyrious that you aren't just playing around!" He spoke with a grin on his face, he had one of those infectious smiles that you couldn't help smiling back. "Yeah!"

The streets of the shopping district were almost always packed to the brim with loud Oblivionites. Today was no different, he frequently found himself running through these streets lately fetching supplies for his uncle, whether it be iron bars for the forge, or bits of thread for his lessons. Castor was always made to watch for the past month though, he had never been allowed to take the needle for himself. His uncle believed he needed to thoroughly study some of the patterns first, and the way to properly stitch before he acted by himself, lest he take it up the wrong way. Today though he was given the task of fetching supplies for his use by Uncle Julius and his father.

Castor found himself excited as he went over the list of necessary items to pick up. He needed to go to the craft supply stall first and foremost, it was closest and it had all of the things he needed for his practice. Next though was a bit odd, he needed to go to the tool store for weapons. This new threat in the world, the Mara they were called, was a way his father thought Castor could make a name for himself. These sentient rock creatures had bounties on them, and a few hunters had already made a bit of a reputation for themselves by slaying the creatures. It would follow that if a boy Castor's age was able to slay so many by himself then it would spread around, at least to the people on the front lines of the fight.

The thought made him nervous, fighting creatures that there was barely any information at all on, but the excitement of taking up his craft and possibly proving himself to be strong to his father and the world chipped away at it. After a little while in line Castor moved up to the table and rattled off his list, "Ummm... hello again! Today I need a sewing kit, ten spools of thread, and the designs for the stitched vest, white cloak, and the stitched trousers... if you wouldn't mind." The lady nodded her head and gathered up the items. "Now's as good of a time as any to practice..." he mumbled to himself as he pulled out his book on levitation. One by one after reading the incantation a few times he picked up the items in a wobbly sort of magic grip and moved them into his bag. Then dropping his sewing kit into his hand he made off for the tool store.

Castor ran his fingers over the little wooden box, with it's metal clasp and edges at least twenty times before he reached the next shop. Slipping the box into his bag as he stepped through the door he saw himself surrounded by many strong gruff men, people who worked with their hands and spoke loudly, examining the tools and wares the place had to offer. He shrunk in on himself, trying not to stick out at all. The best way to deal with those sorts of people, the sort that his father was friends with, he found was not to bother them and to just do what you need to do without drawing attention to himself. When Castor reached the counter he looked up at the man who worked there, he seemed the same type as the ones who shopped here, it made him a bit uncomfortable. "I was sent here by my father Tyrious to pick up a pouch of explosives and a small pick." He spoke softly. The man nodded and gave him a big hearty smile. "Sure, sure, he put in the order a week ago." The man ducked below the counter for a little while, only his wings sticking out above. "Nice man, that Tyrious. Be sure to tell him hello for me." He spoke as he set down a hip bag, presumably full of bombs, and a pick that looked like it would fit Castor's hands well. "And if you ever need more bombs for clearing rocks, or fighting those bloody Mara let me know. Any son of his, is welcome here any time. Besides, those things are good for business." He gave out a big loud laugh while Castor placed the coin on the counter, feeling a bit more relaxed now. "I'll be sure to do that, thank you sir." He said with a polite little nod and headed back. He needed to prepare for the days to come and the hunt for those Mara creatures.

I went through one of the most important ceremonies of my life today. I had my second ceremonial tattoo done. As per family tradition, well my mother's family, I had my tattoos applied that showed I had done something of valor, or something to prove my self worth. Malta came along as an honored guest to tell Midas, the ceremonial tattoo artist, what it was that I had done and how I had acted in the moment. The needles hurt, I don't remember the sensation as a baby, but it was a good feeling, it made me proud I think. I'm glad, father seems... more proud of me lately as well.