Dean of Instruction
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Khay |
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My name is Khay. If there was ever more to my simple name, none remain in the realm of the living to enlighten me. Of my earliest childhood I have only dim fragments of memory. I was born somewhere near the village of Suomi. My memories seem to include a small farmstead, and several siblings. My parents live on as feelings, impressions really. A towering, stern figure that I accept as my father, and a warm, round, fuzzily soft figure that must represent my mother. These impressions and memories are all veiled by images of darkness, blood, and violence. Huge creatures descending upon the safe haven of our home in the night, and the slaughter that followed. Being snatched up by huge, smell hands and carried off into the night. Days of terror, with some of my siblings and other children, penned, waiting for, . . . , what? These dark days ended when a dirty face peered over the wall of our filthy pen, and strong arms snatched me from captivity. I remember the feel of the hard, cold armor of my rescuer as he ran, carrying me from whatever fate had awaited me with the monsters. Suddenly I was in a village, no my own, but a place of warmth, and light, with people around me. Then the devastating feeling of disappointment as the old man came to look at me, the look of despair on his face as he turned away. The depression of the people who had gathered around me, and the knowledge that I was not one of the children they wished to be rescued from the monsters. The warrior that rescued me saw to it that I was cleaned, clothed, and my body healed of it's hurts before leaving. Then I was alone in an unknown village, surrounded by pity and despair. I spent the next few years fighting the dogs of Undine for scraps so that I could eat. I was not accepted in Undine, and I did not dare leave it. Over those years I saw other children rescued from the monsters. Many were of Undine and accepted back into their warm homes, others were like me, homeless scavengers cast upon the winds of fate. One day I heard words that would forever alter my existence. They were simple, common words, but they pointed to a road that I would follow for the rest of my life. In Undine was a personage that was held in high esteem, but who was also greatly feared. He was a Dark Wizard, rumored to have been cursed by some ancient wrongdoing and condemned to remain forever in his ramshackle hut in Undine. I heard a traveler speak of how this wizard would pay gold coin for special herbs and stones. I knew something of the plants he spoke of, for many grew wild about the village. I carefully gathered some of the plants he spoke of, and with no small trepidation, took myself to the door of this dark and powerful personage. I learned quickly that Kiril was a harsh, direct man that would reward me well for a job well done, but would not accept shortcuts or evasions. He did not pay me for those first plants, but took the time to explain just exactly what he wanted, and how he wanted it. More importantly he would explain why he wanted things - just so - if I took the time to ask. His explanations, while never fully complete, were structured so that even my uneducated mind could grasp. I soon found myself serving Kiril, almost as if apprenticed to him. I had a worn rug to sleep on before his fire, and he provided food and clothing for me. I, in turn, scoured the surrounding countryside for the items he needed, and eventually, was entrusted to carry scrolls to the other two Dark Wizards of Temuair. Those days served my education well, as I grew to appreciate the vastness or the world of Temuair, and the diversity of its people. Kiril recruited a priest of Luathas to educate me in my letters. I believed I surprised both of them with my love of learning, and the appetite which I developed for the art of reading. It was this appetite that cost me my apprenticeship. Kiril had a chest in his hut that contained his most prized scrolls. Many of the languages of these scrolls were ancient and beyond my then limited abilities to decipher. But even then my desire for knowledge could focus my efforts and bring me comprehension, and more importantly, understanding. I found the chest unlocked one day, and I took it upon myself to examine the contents. I found, buried under many other scrolls, a particular scroll in an ornate leather scroll case. I opened it and found the language difficult, but not totally foreign. I closed the chest and took it upon myself to decipher the contents of the scroll. It was a work called the Tenets of Oran, and I have reproduced it for the Libraries of the Kingdom and the Acadamie Arcanus. Kiril caught me with that scroll, and in a fit of rage burned the precious document. As the ancient parchment burned, Kiril seized me and threw me out of his hut without cloak, money, or even shoes. It was the depths of a bitter winter. I staggered frozen and blind through a raging blizzard seeking shelter in one of my old haunts on the Docks of Undine. Once there, sheltered from the howling wind and drifting snow, I shivered as I contemplated my future. I would not remain in Undine, and had no desire to return to Suomi. I had been through the Port of Abel and into Mileth many times, and knew that I could make a living of sorts there as well. As Aislings always seemed to need some small service performed and always had gold to spend, Mileth sounded like be a reasonable place to start a new life. Three ships were docked in Undine, the storm was not severe enough to cause them to put to sea. Visibility was bad, and it was very cold. Maybe, just maybe, I could get aboard that brigantine out toward the end of the further dock. Taking a deep breath, I plunged into the storm toward the ship, and my destiny . . . . |
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