The night was almost completely silent, the only sound interrupting the stillness of the world was the crackling of a small campfire out in the woods. There was no snow or ice yet forming around the area yet the icy fingers of winters already had deemed it time to sink its claws into the land, saturating it with chilling winds. A mans breath puffed out in white clouds near the fire, forming into strange shapes as it danced up and away into the world.
No other life seemed to stir around the man and his campfire. No hooting of owls, nor the chilling cries of wolves. No eyes peeked out from the bushes, enticed by the scent of cooking hare, fat dripping into greedy flames. It was as if a cone had erected itself around the lone stranger and his campfire and refused to allow anything else within it. This seemed to sit with the stranger just fine, the urge for human contact came far and few between for him these days and he found that he enjoyed the solitude much more then he did the hustle and bustle of a group of settlers trying to carve a small portion of this strange new place to call their own.
Skin cracked and broke in a hiss and the man looked over at his evening meal, it would be ready shortly. He reached for a wine skin that sat at his side and he took a long hard swig from it. He had found wild grapes growing in the forests here, they were extremely bitter, poor quality for wine grapes, yet they fermented and got you drunk all the same. He grimaced as the alcohol ran down his throat, forcing the poor quality alcohol down into his stomach. Shifting himself into a kneeling position he sliced off a portion from one of the rabbits and skewered it onto the end of one of his daggers. Sitting back down he chewed on the gamy meat appreciatively while he enjoyed the nights silence.
That enjoyment only seemed to last for a few moments unfortunately, for one moment he was sitting alone in those woods and then in the next he blinked and there sat a man across from him. Two children no older then 9 sat on the mans lap. The man was a mirror image of what the stranger would look like in 20 to 30 years from now. Same strong chin, same broad shoulders, same aristocratic posture. There were of course differences to be sure, the elder man's dark hair was flecked heavily with grey. Those stern eyes held two icy blue eyes, while the stranger only was given one, the other shone bright green like an emerald held up to a light. The stranger, while several decades younger, was also in the strictest sense of the word a cripple. His right arm had been taken from the elbow and in its place stood a magically forged one, steel twinkling in the firelight.
Despite all of these differences one thing stood out to separate the two men the most. The stranger slouched, eyes downcast, a deep pain hidden within them. While alone he seemed to make himself as small as possible as if he was trying to avoid attention. Most likely to avoid these phantoms. The man sitting across from him was straight backed, nose tiled upwards with a disproving sneer splashed across his face. This was a man who was bred to be nobility, and the worst kind of it, The arrogant kind. I told you that you'd never amount to anything didn't I? I sent you off to that silly war of ours to die, so that you would be out my hair and no longer a drain on my coffers. Yet despite my wishes you managed to survive, even worse you thought that you would be good enough for the princess? Fucking some mongrel shapechanger was to be expected, you never did seem to have any sense of dignity. Still, to think that you could ever be with the princess is preposterous. Then to top it all off you went allowed to get the princess and my grandchildren killed. You had one job and that was to protect them with your life and you managed to screw that up as well.
At the mention of children the two on the mans lap turned to look at the stranger. The boy had the same dark hair that the stranger had, same jaw line, though his was less defined due to his youth. The girl next to him already had a mane of fiery red hair, with freckles dotting across the bridge of her nose. Both turned to look at the stranger and where eyes should have been sat dark pits as if they had been burned away, black spiderwebs trailing away from the center across their faces. They sat their accusingly at the younger man, silently asking him why he hadn't been there to save them, to protect them like a father should. Utterly useless, couldn't even die properly the older man said again, staring disaprovingly at the stranger. "I'm sorry" he whispered, bringing up his knees to his chest as those phantom stares bore down into him, eating away at what little soul and sanity he had managed to keep.
The snap of a tree branch sounded off like an explosion and the stranger was instantly on his feet, GodEater spinning quietly next to him as he searched the treeline for the noise. The phantoms disappeared as suddenly as they arrived, all that was left was the stranger, every muscle poised for an unseen attack.
No other life seemed to stir around the man and his campfire. No hooting of owls, nor the chilling cries of wolves. No eyes peeked out from the bushes, enticed by the scent of cooking hare, fat dripping into greedy flames. It was as if a cone had erected itself around the lone stranger and his campfire and refused to allow anything else within it. This seemed to sit with the stranger just fine, the urge for human contact came far and few between for him these days and he found that he enjoyed the solitude much more then he did the hustle and bustle of a group of settlers trying to carve a small portion of this strange new place to call their own.
Skin cracked and broke in a hiss and the man looked over at his evening meal, it would be ready shortly. He reached for a wine skin that sat at his side and he took a long hard swig from it. He had found wild grapes growing in the forests here, they were extremely bitter, poor quality for wine grapes, yet they fermented and got you drunk all the same. He grimaced as the alcohol ran down his throat, forcing the poor quality alcohol down into his stomach. Shifting himself into a kneeling position he sliced off a portion from one of the rabbits and skewered it onto the end of one of his daggers. Sitting back down he chewed on the gamy meat appreciatively while he enjoyed the nights silence.
That enjoyment only seemed to last for a few moments unfortunately, for one moment he was sitting alone in those woods and then in the next he blinked and there sat a man across from him. Two children no older then 9 sat on the mans lap. The man was a mirror image of what the stranger would look like in 20 to 30 years from now. Same strong chin, same broad shoulders, same aristocratic posture. There were of course differences to be sure, the elder man's dark hair was flecked heavily with grey. Those stern eyes held two icy blue eyes, while the stranger only was given one, the other shone bright green like an emerald held up to a light. The stranger, while several decades younger, was also in the strictest sense of the word a cripple. His right arm had been taken from the elbow and in its place stood a magically forged one, steel twinkling in the firelight.
Despite all of these differences one thing stood out to separate the two men the most. The stranger slouched, eyes downcast, a deep pain hidden within them. While alone he seemed to make himself as small as possible as if he was trying to avoid attention. Most likely to avoid these phantoms. The man sitting across from him was straight backed, nose tiled upwards with a disproving sneer splashed across his face. This was a man who was bred to be nobility, and the worst kind of it, The arrogant kind. I told you that you'd never amount to anything didn't I? I sent you off to that silly war of ours to die, so that you would be out my hair and no longer a drain on my coffers. Yet despite my wishes you managed to survive, even worse you thought that you would be good enough for the princess? Fucking some mongrel shapechanger was to be expected, you never did seem to have any sense of dignity. Still, to think that you could ever be with the princess is preposterous. Then to top it all off you went allowed to get the princess and my grandchildren killed. You had one job and that was to protect them with your life and you managed to screw that up as well.
At the mention of children the two on the mans lap turned to look at the stranger. The boy had the same dark hair that the stranger had, same jaw line, though his was less defined due to his youth. The girl next to him already had a mane of fiery red hair, with freckles dotting across the bridge of her nose. Both turned to look at the stranger and where eyes should have been sat dark pits as if they had been burned away, black spiderwebs trailing away from the center across their faces. They sat their accusingly at the younger man, silently asking him why he hadn't been there to save them, to protect them like a father should. Utterly useless, couldn't even die properly the older man said again, staring disaprovingly at the stranger. "I'm sorry" he whispered, bringing up his knees to his chest as those phantom stares bore down into him, eating away at what little soul and sanity he had managed to keep.
The snap of a tree branch sounded off like an explosion and the stranger was instantly on his feet, GodEater spinning quietly next to him as he searched the treeline for the noise. The phantoms disappeared as suddenly as they arrived, all that was left was the stranger, every muscle poised for an unseen attack.
