Iver dreamt a cold dream. He was stranded on an eyot in the middle of a lake. A man appeared before him. It was the Trickster.
”Run, Iver.” He said, his voice whispery in the cold autumn. The day was bleak and the trees dying, their leaves falling to the ground.
Iver saw the Trickster point across the lake towards a group of people. It was his family. His full family from before the island. His father, mother, brother and sister. The Trickster flicked his hand and they disappeared.
”Family is blood. But it isn’t always just blood. Family is who we choose.”
Iver’s biological father, Lord Sigmund Redhaven appeared for a brief second. Sigeric and Sigurd were there too. Iver’s half brothers. They disappeared with another wave, melting into the air. In their place, appeared Thoruk, Marco, Sigeric, Ha’zi, Daugo, Dimitri, Cardiloc, his sister, and even others like Grimnir and his brother. It was a mixture of them all. Blood and choice.
”This is your family, Iver. It’s who you chose.”
Then next to them twenty-seven other figures appeared. All frozen in place. Iver couldn’t identify half of them. He saw weird looking people. One holding a trident, another dressed in black robes, the blonde haired woman from the Trickster’s tapestries, even one dude who was so buffed it made Iver jealous. He picked out two people he could recognize. Eonwë and Ilmarë. They stood side by side, smiling. Iver felt a pang of emotion in his heart at the sight of both of them. A mixture of the love, hate and anger he had for them, as well as the pity.
The Trickster turned to Iver, tears welled up in his eyes.
”This was my family.” He broke, crying, his voice cracking.
”Some of them are dead. Some of them are going to be dead. And in the end, I’ll join them. We were supposed to be heroes, Iver. We were supposed to do good. To do right. To be right.” He choked, ”I wasn’t supposed to turn into the half-assed piece of shit that I am. My-“ he reached over and hugged the Dalishman, ”M-my d-daughter wasn’t me-meant t-to die.” He dislodged from him and wiped away the tears and snot with the back of his hand, trying to compose himself.
”It’s too late now. My family has failed. With a deadbeat dad and my brothers at each other’s throats, there’s nothing I can do to prevent it.” His now red-rimmed, hazel eyes looked into Iver’s.
”My time is up. But yours isn’t. Go to your family, Iver. Save them. Run to them, Iver.” He pointed over the flowing waters of the lake towards the Shifters, Marco and Iver’s family.
”Run Iver, run.
A feeling like no other erupted inside the Dalishman and he felt his legs warm with might and power.
[user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/assassiniv/74.png" name="assassiniv"]14628767[/user]
——-
Deeper into the cave, the air became warmer and moist. Arandil found bones down here. Orc bones. A troll skeleton. Some rusty armor. Relics from a bygone age. His torch dimmed as the oxygen decreased.
[user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/Yiannis123/74.png" name="Yiannis123"]18199471[/user]
”Run, Iver.” He said, his voice whispery in the cold autumn. The day was bleak and the trees dying, their leaves falling to the ground.
Iver saw the Trickster point across the lake towards a group of people. It was his family. His full family from before the island. His father, mother, brother and sister. The Trickster flicked his hand and they disappeared.
”Family is blood. But it isn’t always just blood. Family is who we choose.”
Iver’s biological father, Lord Sigmund Redhaven appeared for a brief second. Sigeric and Sigurd were there too. Iver’s half brothers. They disappeared with another wave, melting into the air. In their place, appeared Thoruk, Marco, Sigeric, Ha’zi, Daugo, Dimitri, Cardiloc, his sister, and even others like Grimnir and his brother. It was a mixture of them all. Blood and choice.
”This is your family, Iver. It’s who you chose.”
Then next to them twenty-seven other figures appeared. All frozen in place. Iver couldn’t identify half of them. He saw weird looking people. One holding a trident, another dressed in black robes, the blonde haired woman from the Trickster’s tapestries, even one dude who was so buffed it made Iver jealous. He picked out two people he could recognize. Eonwë and Ilmarë. They stood side by side, smiling. Iver felt a pang of emotion in his heart at the sight of both of them. A mixture of the love, hate and anger he had for them, as well as the pity.
The Trickster turned to Iver, tears welled up in his eyes.
”This was my family.” He broke, crying, his voice cracking.
”Some of them are dead. Some of them are going to be dead. And in the end, I’ll join them. We were supposed to be heroes, Iver. We were supposed to do good. To do right. To be right.” He choked, ”I wasn’t supposed to turn into the half-assed piece of shit that I am. My-“ he reached over and hugged the Dalishman, ”M-my d-daughter wasn’t me-meant t-to die.” He dislodged from him and wiped away the tears and snot with the back of his hand, trying to compose himself.
”It’s too late now. My family has failed. With a deadbeat dad and my brothers at each other’s throats, there’s nothing I can do to prevent it.” His now red-rimmed, hazel eyes looked into Iver’s.
”My time is up. But yours isn’t. Go to your family, Iver. Save them. Run to them, Iver.” He pointed over the flowing waters of the lake towards the Shifters, Marco and Iver’s family.
”Run Iver, run.
A feeling like no other erupted inside the Dalishman and he felt his legs warm with might and power.
[user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/assassiniv/74.png" name="assassiniv"]14628767[/user]
——-
Deeper into the cave, the air became warmer and moist. Arandil found bones down here. Orc bones. A troll skeleton. Some rusty armor. Relics from a bygone age. His torch dimmed as the oxygen decreased.
[user avatar="https://cravatar.eu/helmavatar/Yiannis123/74.png" name="Yiannis123"]18199471[/user]
