"We live in the shadows just to get by..." "Wherever there is dark, there is also light."
Posted: Fri May 01, 2015 2:00 pm
~**THE CHOOSING**~ PART 1
"C'mon Blighter... hurry it up and keep quiet! If you start looking guilty, we'll get caught!" hissed a young man with a thin, pale face and a shock of messy black hair. He looked to be about fourteen years old and had a mischievous glint to his dark brown eyes. "But Darius... are you sure we should be doing this? Mom will kill me if she finds out..." a portly, clumsy youth whined quietly back, looking about himself as though expecting his mother to jump out at them at any second. Darius just rolled his eyes and shot back, "You always do what mommy tells you to?"
At that, the sallow-skinned boy blushed and looked away, knowing better than to answer that question. They were best friends, but Pampalion, otherwise known as Blighter, never liked to push it. Especially when it came to parents. He knew that in his heart of hearts, Darius wished he had parents to listen to, but Darius also seemed to hold anyone that followed adults blindly in high disdain. Instead, Blighter chose to follow Darius along silently, allowing his delinquent friend to lead him into trouble.
Darius had long since grown tired of feeling his stomach eat away at itself. It wasn't fair that he had to live in a dirty hole on the west side of the river, while everyone on the east side got to live it up. He'd spent most of his childhood begging on the streets and was sick of it. He was also getting too old for the rich folk to pity-- a young orphan had it easier than a teenage orphan. Albeit, life wasn't always horrible. Pampalion's mother could often spare some leftovers for Darius whenever he came by to play, even though the look of pity in her eyes tended to grate him the wrong way. She was barely less poor than he was... he didn't need her pity! So he had finally reached his breaking point. He was tired of starving, tired of being pitied by poor folk, tired of being too old to get any money as a beggar, but too young and poor to get a job... if no one would give him anything, then he was finally ready to take it.
Thankfully, Darius was a clever boy. Though he had never been able to go to school, he managed to learn some reading and writing from Pampalion and his mother. Everything else, he learned from the streets. So as they wandered through the market, Darius knew exactly what he was looking for.
It was not long before his eyes alighted on a man wearing respectable clothing, with a naive look about him, and a purse dangling precariously from his belt. Pausing, he turned to Blighter and began to outline his plan. It was clever and simple, in Darius' humble opinion, and after much finagling and prodding, Blighter agreed to it.
Darius started down on one end of the market, staring around himself as though lost and late. He jogged down the street, looking in a hurry, and "accidentally" bumped into the man he had scouted earlier, yelling an apology over his shoulder as he continued to run along. The man looked startled, but, instead of just shaking it off as Darius had been hoping he would, he looked suspicious. Patting at his back pocket, he noticed that his purse was gone, and was just about to yell after the boy, when another one appeared at his elbow. With his wide, innocent face, Blighter held up the purse and spouted in his best, whiny voice, "Sir... you dropped this!" The man immediately calmed down at the sight of his purse, looking so relieved at the fact that it hadn't been stolen that he didn't even think to check if all his money was in it. With an indulgent smile, he even reached into the bag and handed the boy a shilling, "Why thank you young man!"
Blighter touched his forehead and thanked the stranger heartily before walking down the street. He passed a few blocks before spotting Darius, waiting for him at a street corner. Walking up to him, Blighter hissed, "Darius, I didn't like that... I didn't like it at all. He was a nice man, we shouldn't have stolen from him!" Darius, who had been laughing and about to clap Blighter on the back, stopped in mid-swing, a frown immediately taking over his face, "Oh... he was a nice man, huh? So nice that you think he would have given us the shilling if we had asked for it? So nice that he gives all his extra food to the poor, or would hire me so I'm not starving every day? He obviously had the shillings to spare... but hey, I get if you want to cutoff... not everyone can be so lucky as to have a baker for a mother..."
At that, Darius knew he had gone too far. Blighter's usually jovial face twisted into a scowl and he growled back, "Shut up, Darcco... you know full well our lives aren't that much easier than yours. My mother gives you as much as she can and how DARE you bring her into this!" They stood there for a few moment, seething at each other, but the fury didn't last. Darius looked down at his feet guiltily and sighed, "I'm sorry, Lion... I... I'm just so tired of living like this... living off scraps... living off your family..." Pampalion also sighed and reached out to put a hand on his friend's shoulder; he knew the Darius was a prideful soul, and that it killed him a little inside every time he had to get food from his friend's mother. There was no tactful way to tell him that he wasn't being a burden and that Pampalion's family really didn't mind, but the mutual silence held all the words it needed to.
After a few moments, Darius scuffed his foot and murmured, "So... how much did we get...?"
With another sigh, Blighter reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of silver coins, "Four shillings, plus the one the man gave me as a tip for returning his purse to him". He held out four of them to Darius and continued, "Look, I get why you think you have to do this... but I can't do it again. It just doesn't feel right, and I can't afford to get in trouble. I know this is harsh, but you don't really have anything to lose if you get caught... my mother needs my help around the bakery, and she would just die if I ended up getting in trouble for stealing". Darius let his friend push the coins into his hand, looking down at them numbly, muttering, "Half's yours, you earned at least that much".
Blighter shook his head and held up the lone coin he had gotten as a tip, "No Darius, I earned this one... I neither want... or need... the rest". With a final sigh, Darius pocketed the coins and forced a smile onto his face, "Y'know Lion... you're a great friend". The round-faced boy looked confused for a moment, "What makes you say that, after the fight was just had?" Shaking his head, Darius replied with a rueful smile, "Cause a good friend would just go along with anything, but a great friend will tell you what is on his mind and still be your friend, even if you disagree".
The boys stood there and smiled at each other for a moment as they came to the happy realization that their friendship had gone untarnished through this entire ordeal. With a nod, they clasped and shook hands as Blighter added, "I'm probably going to head back to the ferry... I'm guessing you're staying here for a bit?" Darius nodded and broke the handshake, "Ya, I'll need to find a way to change the shillings to pence without looking suspicious, and maybe scout out one or two more 'donors'. I can't go back to living in a hole, Lion, not when I've seen how easy it is to get out of it". "I understand, mate, just... be careful, alright?" "Ya, I will... you too? Say hi to your mom for me! I'll probably be back in the neighborhood tomorrow..." "Sure thing! I'll see ya around, Darius!"
With that, the two boys parted ways, and Darius snuck off to continue his new career as a thief.
The day would have passed without event, if not for the strange itch Darius seemed to have in his feet.
Over the course of a few hours, the young theif managed to steal another handful of shillings, reveling in this new found feeling of freedom. He never stole an entire purse, or more than one or two coins from each person, as he wasn't looking to ruin anyone's day. He just wanted to have enough to make sure he wouldn't be hungry for a while. Once he'd pocketed around twenty of the small, round silver coins, he decided it was time to call it quits. That is, until he came across a scene that made his blood boil.
A wealthy man was strolling out of a building down the street with his entourage, all glittering with jewels and brightly colored clothing. This image in itself would have put Darius in a bad mood, but what happened next threw him into a fury. A little girl, in a tattered brown dress that had probably once been white, tottered up to the man and held out a quivering hand, "Uhm... sir... coo' ya spa'ah sum cange?" She looked to be starving and alone, probably a street-rat like him, and Darius watched the rich man through narrowed eyes to see what he did. To his disgust, the wealthy creature, as Darius was loathe to recognize it as human, looked down at the little girl and let out a yell, using his leg to knock her out of the way. The little thing was so light that she actually flew back a few feet, landing in the mud with a dead sort of expression on her face, as though she'd almost been expecting such treatment, but had been so desperate for food that it was worth the risk to try asking.
Darius puffed himself up and walked up to the little girl, helping her up as the group of wealthy monsters walked off and gathered around the carriage they intended to take, talking in appalled voices as to the terrible nature of the city riffraff. He gave the little one a shilling and whispered hurriedly, while not taking his furious gaze off the rich filth striding away down the street for even a second, "Take this to Barnan the Blacksmith down by the piers, and tell him Darius sent you. He'll change this to pence for you, no questions asked, and you'll be less likely to attract attention when you use it to buy food. Got it?" The little girl nodded blankly and barely had time to whisper a thank you before Darius was off, sprinting down the street after the glittering group.
He didn't hesitate, not even for a second, as he bowled through them. He snatched at the purse of the man who had kicked the little girl, and the delicate silver chain that had held it place broke with a satisfying snap. "T'wat you get for kickin' little girls you fat arse!" he yelled over his shoulder at the sputtering group, some of whom had fallen over in shock. It actually took them a few moments to call out for the guard that the wealthy man enjoyed dragging about with himself. He had decided that morning that he would go out and buy his wife a beautiful, extravagant anniversary present, and being the sort of man that he was, thought it would mean more if he picked it out himself. Alas, the small group had been unprepared to be accosted on such a lovely day, especially with their burly guard hanging about. In fact, the guard himself seemed taken aback. Nevertheless, even with the slight head start Darius had, the guard seemed to gain on him in their rush through the streets. But the young thief was blissfully lucky, for in his wanderings he had drawn near the eastern edge of the city. With the tireless energy of youth, and the adrenaline of the chase, the young thief evaded capture long enough to make it into the moors surrounding the palisade.
He continued to run through the tall, billowing heather for as long as he could, stopping only when found a hole in a small grassy embankment to hide in. Time passed slowly as he waited, with baited breath, to see if they would follow him. The sounds of the moors echoed around him, frogs croaking, the occasional scree of a hunting bird. Eventually, Darius heaved a relieved sigh, leaning back to relax for a little while before heading back, all the while feeling this pull in his body to keep walking east. He shook his head at himself, why east? There was nothing there but the Wardwood, and no one in their right mind went in there. The thought probably would have entertained him for a while if in that moment he hadn't heard the far-off sound of hooves and a man's voice calling out, "I found footprints!"
Bloody hell, they were still after him! Who had he stolen from?! With a groan, Darius was beginning to regret his actions when the pull to keep running east overtook him. Off he went, sprinting pellmell through the darkening grass, thanking god that it would soon be too dark for them to track him. I'll have to cut my hair when I get back, to avoid being recognized, he thought.
On he ran, even as he saw trees rising in the distance, like dark sentinels judging all who would wander into the forest. They were eerie in the dusk light, creaking softly in the gentle breeze, almost as though they were speaking to one another. The sound of voices and horses in the distance kept Darius from thinking too much about entering the forest, as he did, slowing slightly as a sudden hush seemed to spread over everything.
In the moors, every sound echoed forever, so that a man on one end of a field could hear a man on the other side as though they were in the same room. In the wood, Darius was certain he could yell and yell until his head fell off, and no one would hear him, even if they were standing by his side.
"Perhaps I should lay low for a few days... so they forget what I look like..." he murmured to himself as he walked through the trees, not entirely paying attention to where he was going.
It was almost completely dark when he decided to find a place to sleep. He kept his eye out for anything that could be a suitable shelter, only stumbling upon a strange rocky formation once it was too dark to see his own hand in front of his face. Curling up in a nook underneath the odd rock, Darius fell asleep with a small smile on his face... he'd called a nobleman a fat arse and helped a little girl get food for a least a week, and all without getting arrested. It had been a good day.
The morning dawned dreary and mistily. Darius had slept soundly through the night and well into the morning, the events and long run of the day before leaving him exhausted and sore. As he awoke with a yawn, the young thief stretched and blearily looked up at the stone he had chosen to sleep under, only to be confronted by a large wolf-like face. He promptly let out a quiet yell and scrambled backwards, before realizing it was just a rock. Letting out a strangled sort of laugh, he brought himself to his feet and looked the stone over. Even though it was just an oddly shaped boulder, there was something about the holes it had for eyes that creeped Darius out. It was almost as though the thing were... watching him. He shook his head and turned away from it, decidedly gathering his things and heading off through the trees until it was out of sight.
Eventually, a growling stomach and dry tongue drove Darius to seek out a stream or creek or... anything. After what seemed like hours, he came upon a small trickle of water snaking through the wood. With a refreshing drink and a blackberry snack from a bush growing over the stream, Darius sat with his back against a tree, trying to figure out what to do. Something in him kept telling him to walk further into the woods, that there was something there for him, as crazy as that seemed.
"But what in the world could come of that? I'll just get lost or something... no... I'm better off keeping close to the edge of the wood so I can find my way back..." he muttered to himself as a gentle breeze began to play through the trees. The dappled sun and babbling brook created an almost relaxing scene, enough to put anyone to sleep. In fact, Darius had begun to nod off when he first heard that strange sound. Having never been in a forest before, the young boy was entirely unprepared for the sound of wind playing through the trees. The branches swayed and clacked against each other, bringing Darius out of his daydream with a jolt. He sat rigid for a moment, listening apprehensively, trying to distinguish the possible sound of footsteps beneath the racket of the leaves rustling overhead. After a few moments, the fickle breeze abated and Darius shook his head. He was just being silly, there was nothing in these woods! With a huff, he got to his feet and tried to being walking back to the moors, but he'd barely taken a step when a violent gust of wind blasted through the trees. With a quiet yelp, Darius stumbled back a few steps, looking around with apprehension once again. This wind... this strange pull he felt to go further into the forest... The old ladies of the lower city were often telling stories about spirits and magic in the Wardwood, most of which Darius listened to out of boredom rather than curiosity. The stories would sometimes tell of beings that would lure people into the forest, sometimes to their benefit, but sometimes to their deaths. So now he listened as hard as he could, but when he didn't hear anything suspicious, he snorted and once again began to walk towards the moors. "Pft... spirits... no such thing... it was just the wind!" he muttered, relaxing for only a moment before another unruly gust threw a handful of leaves into his face.
Sputtering, Darius flailed the detritus out of his eyes and looked around himself with slight consternation. No, there was no such thing as spirits. They didn't exist... "There is no such thing as spirits... there is no such thing as spirits... there is no such thing as spirits..." he muttered over and over to himself, casting his gaze around in ever direction in hope of proving himself right. When the wind picked up even more, the sound through the branches grew even louder and more ominous.
Perhaps it was sleeping outside all night under a wolf-stone, or the fact that he was hungry and lost and a little afraid, perhaps it was all these things, but whatever it was, Darius finally snapped. "WHO ARE YOU!? WHAT DO YOU WANT?!" he yelled, still glancing around himself worriedly. The wind slowly began to die down and Darius listened as hard as he could. Perhaps it was his own imagination, or something more, but he could have sworn he could make out the words, "GOOOooooo", in the rustling of the leaves.
"Go? Go where?! Alright... that's it Darius, you've lost your mind. Why would spirit-wind tell you to just 'go'... forget it! I'm not going anywhere..." he murmured when yet another sudden gust of wind burst through the tree tops, followed by a creaky, "GOOOOOooooo".
Throwing his hands in the air, Darius growled, "Alright alright! Sheesh... wind... I'm probably crazy... this is all in my imagination... but I'll go... wherever... alright? Hear that wind? I'm going! Watch me go!" He turned and began to walk in the first direction that came to mind, the one that he had felt pulled towards all morning, paying no heed to the breeze that danced through the trees, as though it had always been doing so. At first his steps were heavy and angry, frustrated with himself for allowing his imagination to get the best of him, but even more so for wind and trees and leaves, for helping fuel its ridiculously imaginings. Pft... spirits... no such thing... he thought, though on he walked.
He walked for the better part of the day, his mind wandering from thought to thought as he examined his life. At some point, he remembered the purse he had stolen, and decided to look inside. One peek through the top was enough to make his blood run cold... no wonder they had run after him for so long, it was filled with golden crowns. He winced and counted them while he walked, almost afraid of the number he'd reach. With a quiet whistle, Darius shook his head as he finished counting and loaded all the coins out of his pockets and back into the purse, "How could that man have been so stupid as to walk around with this much money in his belt... he really was a stupid fat arse..." Shaking his head, the boy continued onwards, stopping occasionally to eat recognizable berries and sip from small, muddy stream-beds.
Just when he began to question the logic behind following directions given to him by wind, the trees began to thin. In the dying light of day, Darius could see a strange light emanating from up ahead. He stepped into an almost unnatural looking grove and was unable to suppress the gasp he gave at the sight before him. It was a tree... a giant tree. He'd never seen anything like it! It looked older than time itself, covered in ancient whorls that glowed an eerie, yet inviting light. As he approached the tree, he noticed strange, lumpy fruits hanging from branches that seemed to go on forever, disappearing into the sky. The growling of his stomach spurred him onwards, with the thought that perhaps this fruit would fill that life-dependent ache. However, the closer he got, the more he began to realize that the strange poms actually looked like small animals.
He reached the roots and looked up, neck craning to get a better look. The branches started low, almost as if it the tree was begging to be climbed. Having nothing to lose, Darius lobbed himself onto the lowest branch, inching out towards the edge to inspect the hanging creatures. They looked like, what, deer perhaps? He wasn't sure, and he reached out to brush one. What a strange fruit! It felt almost like clay, or porcelain. He gave it a sharp tug, but it wouldn't come off. With a frown, he pulled again, but soon began to feel that perhaps these were not for him. Sighing, Darius slipped out of the tree and sat on a root, playing at the dirt with his fingers at he tried to think of what to do next. "Alright wind... I've walked forever... following... whatever it was... what now?"
It seemed that even the elements didn't have an answer for him, for the wind had died down with the coming of night and Darius was left alone with his thoughts. He sighed again and look down at his fingers in the dirt. What a waste of time he thought, just about to hoist himself up in order to find a place to sleep when his eyes alighted on something half buried under the leaf litter. Reaching out, he began to brush the refuse off of it, when his finger brushed something. The touch filled him with a sense of belonging, as though it were something he had been looking for his entire life.
Curiously, he picked up the object and brought it closer for inspection. It was one of those deer-fruits, but unlike most of the others, its eye seemed to glow, and what looked like cracks lined its tan and brown body.
"Hey there little guy... you look pretty lonely. Why aren't you on the tree with all the others? Are you a loner... like me?" he asked it quietly, as though it could hear him. Placing it onto his lap, he stared down at it with reverie, "Well, us loners should stick together... don't you agree?" Its eye seemed to twinkle in agreement, and Darius smiled.
Some how, he felt... he knew... that everything was going to be okay. With a soft smile playing at his lips, the young boy lay down across the roots, curled up around his new treasure. Tomorrow he'd begin the long trek home, but this time, he wouldn't be doing it alone.
Name: Celine Nickname: Celly (Only Darius can call her this) Title: The Silent Watcher Type: Guardian Gender: Female Age: 2 Height: On the slightly smaller side (5'0'') Build: Willowy but strong, built more of speed than strength Temperament: Aloof/Cryptic Chosen: Darius Darcco
Personality: Celine does not associate much with anyone aside from Darius. Most humans disinterest her, and it was rare to run into other guardians. She had a quiet determination about her when Darius began to take her to training sessions with his colleagues, willing to put in the effort only because her chosen seemed to believe it prudent. She does, however, have a soft spot for the young and the weak, and is as indignant as Darius is whenever she sees them being bullied.
History: Celine and Darius' story are one and the same. Where he went, she followed. At first it was not because she could not bare to be without him, but because no one could tell her she couldn't do something. Her stubborn streak wore off as Darius accepted that she would do as she wished, regardless of his input, and she slowly began to see how clever he could be. Soon, they developed a mutual trust for each other, and Celine rarely did much other than wait and watch, ever silently ready to spring into action should the moment call for it.
Post color:burlywood
Darius Darcco
Name: Darius Darcco Nickname: Das, Darcco Title: The Gallant Thief Gender: Male Age: 21 Type: Chosen Height: Average (5'10'') Build: Lithe / acrobatic Appearance:Young and Current(Rough ref pics! Subject to change!) Region: Palisade - Western Side Profession: By day, deliveries, by night, thief and head of the Merrymen's court Temperament: Determined Guardian: Celine
Personality: Darius is an opinionated young man with startling ideals and an open mind. He is neither friendly nor cold to strangers, treating everyone with a similar ambivalence until their prove their worth to him. His friends he treats with respect and a jovial familiarity, but his enemies know none of his charms. He and Celine are inseparable, and though they are not outwardly affectionate, their inability to be a part stands testament to their bond.
History:
Born to an absent father and a terminally ill mother, Darius was left without parents by the age of one. His mother, a relatively well-respected healer on the west side of the Palisade, tried her best to make sure he at least had a place to live for the first part of his life. Of course, as orphanages go on the poor side of the Palisade, it ran out of room for older kids by the time Darius turned 12, and he was left out on the streets. He was lucky, however, to have befriended a young boy by the name of Pampalion, whose baker mother had a soft spot for poor Darius. Though she never had the means nor the time to truly bring him into the family, she would spare any scraps she had for the boy and allowed him to sleep in their attic. Perhaps she would have given him more if he would accept it, but Darius was as proud in his youth as he is now. However, if Darius would ever call anyone family, Pampalion and his would be as close as it got.
Upon the day of his choosing, he had managed to also steal a relatively hefty sum of gold from a visiting nobleman. Being the clever and shrewd boy he was, he cut his hair and returned to the west side of the Palisade, where he hid his trove of crowns far from prying eyes and did not tell a single soul of its existence. A few weeks passed before the strange deer sculpture he had found manifested into a living, breathing deer fawn. Uncertain as to how this happened, Darius knew only one thing... that she meant more to him than life itself. He spoke to her from day one, telling her stories about his life, about Sunderland, about how he found her in the Wardwood. For the first few days it was easy enough to keep her hidden in Pampalion's family barn, but the young doe soon gained control of her hooves and was more than ready to follow him wherever he went.
Of course, the first few months were spent answering everyone's questions. Was she a pet? Where did she come from? Why did she follow him everywhere? were the questions the younger generations tended to pose, while the elderly would watch solemnly from their porches, afraid to put to words what everyone was thinking. This is a guardian... the howls coming from the woods are real... the age of the chosen has returned.
For his part, Darius tried to remain low key. Over a long period of time, he slowly found people in the underground market to take one or two of his stolen crowns at a time, changing them to shillings and pence so as to not arouse suspicion from either the guards or the black marketeers. Eventually, once he had gotten rid of all the gold, Darius amassed all his money and began to make small investments. He bought himself nicer clothes, got a job making deliveries, continued his thievery operation, and gave much of his proceeds to the orphans he saw around westside. He had heard a story once of a man called Timothy Rook, who would steal from the rich and give to the poor, and Darius' was inspired.
It took a little more than two years for Darius to pull together his new life. In that time, his dealings with the city's underbelly had introduced him to countless interesting characters, some of which became his fast friends. They were all thieves, whisperers, and fighters, usually men who shared similar sentiments to the disparity between the ruling class and the poor, and had a thirst for a better life. Darius had always wanted to have a family, and in these select few, he had found it. They became a band known as the 'Merrymen' in the lower city, for their tendency to use their stolen riches to help the less fortunate (after they took care of their own, of course).
A few more years passed and Darius had created a small calling for himself. In the crooked building he and his friends acquired near the river's edge on the western side, he created a small court of his own. His friends and himself fashioned themselves as the justice for those who could not get justice for themselves. The crown cared little for what happened in this grotty little piece of the Palisade, but Darius knew better. Loyalty was earned through deeds, not through glimmering crowns, and he worked his way into the hearts of the locals and the lower class working folk. In his court a dock worker who could spin a knife like top, a blacksmith who could wrestle an ox, a trader with the eye of a sharpshooter, a man with a particular gift with horses, and a few others (open for others to join the plot), all came together to work with Darius; partially because they shared his dream and were impressed by his accomplishments, but also because working with Darius had left them wealthier than they had been before.
Seven years passed and it became a normal sight to see Darius walking through the market with Celine by his side, an amiable smile on his face and a confident air about his stride. He had grown into a strapping young man and would someday be ready to join the other Wardens, once construction on the new living area was finished in Old Castle-- if they could convince him to leave his Court, that is.
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