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Posted in: The Past by Ariel on December 31, 2007

I have been reluctant to talk about myself, about my past, with my new friends. I don’t know why. I haven’t done anything wrong. I am not my father; his actions are not my actions. Part of my reluctance is the painful memories. When I think about my brother, I still feel the grief as if I were once again a child in the caravan. Ahmad’s death hit us hard, but I couldn’t imagine that it would destroy our family.

Family. What does it mean really? When I look at the faces of my companions I want to look beyond the face and see the fathers and mothers that made them. Cinder has not opened up about her past. I know her parents live and that she desires to help them in some way. Why she is here and not there…. she does not say. And poor Sadi. Is it better to be an orphan? Or an exile, like me? What she must think of me abandoning my father.

I am fascinated by Ilea’s past. What must her life have been like before? Did she chose to live among humanoids? Is she escaping someone, or some thing. Does she have children?
Or Myntilly? What made her take to an adventuring life? I can almost picture her in a house, soup cooking over the fire, children at her feet, a loving husband coming through the door……… Ah, but would he want a smart wife? Would she spend her days teaching the children to read and cook? What a waste of a mind!

Am I wasting my time here? Can my actions ever blot out my father’s or, as importantly, my sister’s? When my father gave Persia to the Nerullians, that was a single act. Selfish, greedy, and evil, but a single act in a lifetime of days…. And yet I blame him more than her. She was just becoming a woman, bleeding for the first time and a perfect offering to the Reaper. What if it had been me?

True, Persia has taken to the ways of Nerull. I say that, but I don’t know the journey, only the outcome. Did she try to run away? Does she remember me and the nights sleeping under the stars? One day I hope to ask her all the questions in my heart. And I pray to Pelor that I am strong enough to hear the answers.


1 Comment

  1. […] As the battle of the bones ended, I walked up to the prone body of the cleric. Sadi had done a great job of putting arrows in him. I could tell he was bleeding out so I knelt and stabilized him. By the scar on his face, a patch of melted skin, I knew this was the man that Fario & Felian had pursued into the jungle. He wore the symbol of Nerull on his chest. I felt a moment of dizziness: for just a second he looked like my sister Persia. […]

    Pingback by Nerull, Foe of All Good | Dungeon Divas — June 6, 2009 @ 10:07 am

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