Post by katie on Sept 8, 2019 4:05:04 GMT -5
(Journal Part 1)
Mom. Dad. I love you, and I’m sorry. You two are the sole reason I am keeping this journal. If I die before earning your forgiveness, then at least you will have a chance to read this, and know that I tried. I think I ought to outline what exactly led me down this path. I don’t want you to think that this was your fault; you two did the very best that you could with what you were given. Raising an orphan had to have been hard, and heavens know I didn’t make it any easier. In hindsight, I wish I had at least left you a note explaining that before I left, but I suppose these pages will have to do.
I never lacked love while I was in your home, but outside in the village, it was a different story. You tried to shelter me from the worst of it, but even as a naïve child I couldn’t ignore the stares and the sneers. The only peers that I had were the random travelers that made their way through our village. Of course, once they learned of my history, how I didn’t truly belong in this village; well, I was friendless most of my life.
I didn’t get the idea for revenge until Aramil arrived in our town. There was something different about the man, something that even you sensed. I wish I had listened and stayed away from him. While it would not have guaranteed me acceptance or happiness, I could have at least spent my days with my family. But of course, I was enamored with him from the get go. I had never seen a half-elf before and I suppose, because of his relatively strangeness, I felt a bit of kinship with him. I made it a habit to follow him around. To my surprise, he never shooed me away or looked at me in disgust. In fact, he seemed to value my presence. We began to talk, and he taught me stupid, foolish things, like lock picking, pick pocketing, and how to hide even in plain sight. While I never partook in these activities at first, I was enthralled with his talent to slip into places unseen, to crack locks unheard, and to steal even jewelry unfelt.
Soon, he began to tell me of his history as a half-elf. He told me of the injustices he endured at the hands of elves because he was a mutt. He taught me the idea of karma, and how there is no god, man, or beast who is looking to protect us. We have to look out for ourselves, and if we want justice, it has to be through our own hands. Of course, what society deems just and unjust all depends who is at the top. Logic and compassion play no part in these decisions; only fear and ignorance.
Soon, I was the one breaking into houses and taking purses. Again and again Aramil expressed his pride in my handiwork. He even told me his real name, Vors. Always said with a strange tick of the lip. Something I could never replicate, much to his annoyance.
And then, about a year after he arrived, Vors left. He fucking hugged me, told me how proud he was, and just casually walked away. Took only a few seconds, and he was gone. The bastard. He was my only friend, the only one I considered family beside you two, and he just up and left.
It left me in a foul mood, and I got sloppy. I swear the guards were fucking smiling as they arrested me, like they were waiting my whole life for this. But gods, the look on your faces when they brought me to your door. I wished they had just ran me through with their swords instead of making me watch your hearts break.
It was easy to break out of the jailhouse, and before I knew it, I was running blindly into the forest. I don’t know what I was thinking. I guess I just wanted to be as far away from my shame and guilt as I could. I know I can’t come back. I’m not the perfect son you deserved, and even though I recognize Vors’ teachings were flawed, there is some truth to them. I’ve got to figure myself out before I come home. I’ve got to find some way to make things up to you. If I die before then, no huge loss I guess.
