Post by Deimian Kyrikk on Jan 2, 2020 12:07:58 GMT -8
It was a calm day, the day Deimian crunched through the icy rug of the Cabalian plains. His footsteps marched toward his own home… though his confidence in direction was not unyielding.
His footsteps halted as he heard a sudden movement in the snow. His ears gazed into his surroundings. “Hello?” Deimian called out.
No response arose, not even more movement.
Regardless of its debatable danger, his feet carried him quietly through the icy blanket toward the sound’s source.
Yet again was the snow disturbed before him, as a small someone sought to run through it. They found more difficulty than Deimian however, due to the runner’s more diminutive stature.
The sudden movement startled Deimian, but it was not long before he knew with whom he was dealing.
“Please, don’t run little one. I mean only to help!” he said as he began chase.
Normally, he would not pursue the poor soul, for it would only instill fear into the child’s heart. However, it was a wintery day, and they seemed far too small to survive without aid.
The child continued to flee, and it was now that Deimian could hear that the child was a boy, due to his occasional grunts. Deimian could also hear where the boy was headed: the tree line. From ahead of them came the sound of creaking trunks, limbs, and twigs. Once the child reached that point, the snowy floor would lessen, giving him an advantage in speed.
As the boy neared this line, Deimian had achieved significant proximity, but not close enough for his own reach. Thus, circumstance forced Deimian’s hand toward desperation. The Aaruan leapt forward into the air, reached his cane out, and swiped at the boy’s legs. The two hit the snow simultaneously, though Deimian found more ease in recovery.
Soon the blind man was at the boy, and grabbed hold of him before he could begin another pursuit.
“Do not be afraid, do not be afraid,” the blind man eased, kneeling before the little one.
Though it came as no surprise to Deimian, the command was not heeded. The boy struggled to be released, shouting “Back off!” and the like.
“Listen to me!” Deimian shouted over the child and shook him, though he was not fond of the feeling.
The boy quieted himself into whimpers and grunts.
“I only wish to help. I am not here to bring you harm. Why do you run?”
The boy sniffed and spat the words out, “I need to die!”
Deimian’s brows narrowed. “Why is this true?”
The boys struggles were gone by now, and his body was filled with nothing but sadness. “Because this world sucks! I hate it here! The ladies don’t want me to leave! They always bring me back! They won’t let me go find my parents!” The words all were voiced by a throat that seized from sorrow.
It brought sadness to Deimian’s own heart, bringing back the memories of his own parents. But he had no time for such recollections. “Ladies? From where do you come?”
The child was silent for a moment. “...an orphanage.”
Deimian smiled and nodded. “What is your name?”
Again, the boy hesitated, but spoke softly, “Wayne…”
“Ah, a powerful name indeed. My name is Deimian Kyrikk, from the Kingdom of Aedria.”
The boy shrugged. “Okay. Can I go now?”
Deimian chuckled. “Not so fast. I know you’re not fond of the place, but would you take me back to this orphanage? It so happens that I have found myself terribly lost, and I would like some shelter from this cold.”
The child growled like a hound. “One of those ladies sent you, didn’t they?!”
Deimian again found amusement in the words. “I assure you, I have not once seen these ladies of which you speak.”
A silent moment passed as the boy considered the offer. He sighed before saying, “It’s that way,” and raising an arm to point a direction.
“Would you guide me by the hand there? I do not know if you can tell, but I have lost my sight and find it difficult to navigate without aid.” Deimian tapped the bandana before offering his hand.
“I was wondering why you wear that thing,” the boy said as he took the hand offered to him.
Deimian smiled as he stood up and walked with the boy. “Well your wondering is now no more.”
“You talk funny.”
“And you talk plain.”
“Huh?”
Upon arriving at the orphanage, the caretakers welcomed the boy back in, presenting an expected lecture to him. To Deimian’s relief, nothing about them suggested a malevolent nature toward children, only love.
“Thank you,” one of them kindly spoke to the blind man, “for bringing Wayne back. He’s a very smart boy, which has lead to some very unfortunate situations.”
“There is no thanks needed. Though, I would like a place I can rest for the night, if you do not find it misplaced to ask.”
“Um,” the woman uttered, evidently unsure.
“I am aware these times bring many evildoers, so I would expect nothing less than to be monitored. Or even locked in a room. Either brings me no discomfort.”
The woman took another breath of consideration. “I’m sure we can arrange something.”
“So you are staying?” Deimian’s little friend asked from a distance.
“Of course, Mr. Wayne. I do not forsake my promises.”
A thought occurred to Deimian, and that was the lack of livelihood in the childrens’ home. It seemed rather dreary, most likely brought on by the weather of equal description. Was it not Christmas time? Should joy not be more prevalent about children?
“As another form of payment, might I recite a Christmas poem for the children?” he requested of the woman.
A happy voice answered, “I believe that would be wonderful.”
After children had gathered and upon a stool he sat, Deimian began.
“Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house…”
His footsteps halted as he heard a sudden movement in the snow. His ears gazed into his surroundings. “Hello?” Deimian called out.
No response arose, not even more movement.
Regardless of its debatable danger, his feet carried him quietly through the icy blanket toward the sound’s source.
Yet again was the snow disturbed before him, as a small someone sought to run through it. They found more difficulty than Deimian however, due to the runner’s more diminutive stature.
The sudden movement startled Deimian, but it was not long before he knew with whom he was dealing.
“Please, don’t run little one. I mean only to help!” he said as he began chase.
Normally, he would not pursue the poor soul, for it would only instill fear into the child’s heart. However, it was a wintery day, and they seemed far too small to survive without aid.
The child continued to flee, and it was now that Deimian could hear that the child was a boy, due to his occasional grunts. Deimian could also hear where the boy was headed: the tree line. From ahead of them came the sound of creaking trunks, limbs, and twigs. Once the child reached that point, the snowy floor would lessen, giving him an advantage in speed.
As the boy neared this line, Deimian had achieved significant proximity, but not close enough for his own reach. Thus, circumstance forced Deimian’s hand toward desperation. The Aaruan leapt forward into the air, reached his cane out, and swiped at the boy’s legs. The two hit the snow simultaneously, though Deimian found more ease in recovery.
Soon the blind man was at the boy, and grabbed hold of him before he could begin another pursuit.
“Do not be afraid, do not be afraid,” the blind man eased, kneeling before the little one.
Though it came as no surprise to Deimian, the command was not heeded. The boy struggled to be released, shouting “Back off!” and the like.
“Listen to me!” Deimian shouted over the child and shook him, though he was not fond of the feeling.
The boy quieted himself into whimpers and grunts.
“I only wish to help. I am not here to bring you harm. Why do you run?”
The boy sniffed and spat the words out, “I need to die!”
Deimian’s brows narrowed. “Why is this true?”
The boys struggles were gone by now, and his body was filled with nothing but sadness. “Because this world sucks! I hate it here! The ladies don’t want me to leave! They always bring me back! They won’t let me go find my parents!” The words all were voiced by a throat that seized from sorrow.
It brought sadness to Deimian’s own heart, bringing back the memories of his own parents. But he had no time for such recollections. “Ladies? From where do you come?”
The child was silent for a moment. “...an orphanage.”
Deimian smiled and nodded. “What is your name?”
Again, the boy hesitated, but spoke softly, “Wayne…”
“Ah, a powerful name indeed. My name is Deimian Kyrikk, from the Kingdom of Aedria.”
The boy shrugged. “Okay. Can I go now?”
Deimian chuckled. “Not so fast. I know you’re not fond of the place, but would you take me back to this orphanage? It so happens that I have found myself terribly lost, and I would like some shelter from this cold.”
The child growled like a hound. “One of those ladies sent you, didn’t they?!”
Deimian again found amusement in the words. “I assure you, I have not once seen these ladies of which you speak.”
A silent moment passed as the boy considered the offer. He sighed before saying, “It’s that way,” and raising an arm to point a direction.
“Would you guide me by the hand there? I do not know if you can tell, but I have lost my sight and find it difficult to navigate without aid.” Deimian tapped the bandana before offering his hand.
“I was wondering why you wear that thing,” the boy said as he took the hand offered to him.
Deimian smiled as he stood up and walked with the boy. “Well your wondering is now no more.”
“You talk funny.”
“And you talk plain.”
“Huh?”
Upon arriving at the orphanage, the caretakers welcomed the boy back in, presenting an expected lecture to him. To Deimian’s relief, nothing about them suggested a malevolent nature toward children, only love.
“Thank you,” one of them kindly spoke to the blind man, “for bringing Wayne back. He’s a very smart boy, which has lead to some very unfortunate situations.”
“There is no thanks needed. Though, I would like a place I can rest for the night, if you do not find it misplaced to ask.”
“Um,” the woman uttered, evidently unsure.
“I am aware these times bring many evildoers, so I would expect nothing less than to be monitored. Or even locked in a room. Either brings me no discomfort.”
The woman took another breath of consideration. “I’m sure we can arrange something.”
“So you are staying?” Deimian’s little friend asked from a distance.
“Of course, Mr. Wayne. I do not forsake my promises.”
A thought occurred to Deimian, and that was the lack of livelihood in the childrens’ home. It seemed rather dreary, most likely brought on by the weather of equal description. Was it not Christmas time? Should joy not be more prevalent about children?
“As another form of payment, might I recite a Christmas poem for the children?” he requested of the woman.
A happy voice answered, “I believe that would be wonderful.”
After children had gathered and upon a stool he sat, Deimian began.
“Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house…”
