Prelude 1
Life is a series of misfortunes, some we can avoid, some we cannot. I, was one of them.
My mother was once a woman of importance. Long ago. Her husband held a spot on the Har-Thelen council of Sithicus. She was the envy of many, but even with all she had she always wanted more. Her marriage, one of convenience, was brought to an end. And for this, she blamed me. From the moment of my conception. As if it was my fault she did not love the man to whom she was married. That he failed to fulfill her desires. She told me about her husband, more times than I ever cared to hear. I didn't care because he was not my father.
It was evident at the moment of my birth of my mother's infedelity. A true Sithican elf would have been born with silvery hair not gold. She was cast out, and every servant with golden hair was put to the gallows to ensure that her husband could save face amongst the other councilors. I was cast out with her. She never told me why she didn't kill me then and there, to hide the scandal and save her marriage. But she blamed me for it.
We lived in relative poverty for a time, most of my youth in fact. When I was old enough, I was sent under the tutelage of the Rangers, to learn the forests and eventually join in their ranks in defense of the lands. I learned much, but mother still hated me. In everything I tried to appease her, to earn her love... but her disdane grew greater over time. We had taken up residence on a farm. While I would spend most of my days running with the rangers, I would come home each night in hopes that mother would have had a good day. When she did, she didn't drink. When she drank, she would go on a tirade and accuse me for everything. From the rain, to the chickens who did not lay eggs. Those nights were the worst. Everyone knew it was not safe to travel the forests by night, but for me, it was neither safe to remain indoors.
I would explain the bruises to the rangers as clumsiness on my part in the previous days tasks. Most didn't care enough to question, though I felt a couple did suspect it was from something else. One particular night I took my time returning home. I had a feeling of foreboding deep in my gut. The moon was high in the sky, and the sounds of the night were terrifying for someone not quite yet of age. I waited as long as I could, before the fear of what was outside surpassed the fear of what might be waiting at home. But fortunately, mother was passed out before I arrived.
Come morning, as the first light of day passed through the cracks in the shutters I was jostled awake. Nearly yanked clean out of the bed by the foot. Mother was furious. A wolf, or pack of wolves had gotten into the barn and slain our only cow. Of course, I had been no where near the barn, and I knew she had left the door unbarred. In her rage she beat me severely. I was scared beyond any beating I had suffered before. I don't know what happened next.
I awoke before mid-day, bruised and a bit bloody. It hurt to open my eyes as both were badly bruised and swollen. As I rose, I saw my mother laying on the floor in a pool of blood. Her eyes were open, staring at me accusingly. My dagger protruding from her chest. I felt grief, relief, and fear all rolled into one. I fled the farm, into the forests where I used the skills taught by the rangers to escape Sithicus.
I ran east through the Fumewood and into the Iron hills, exhaustion wearing me down. I remember the mists, I remember throwing it all away as I entered them. I remember choking.
