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Spiritual Trauma

January 14, 2013

“For the last time, you are not going to go off and become a Druid! It would be an insult to our ancestors’ suffering and a grave embarrassment to our House. I refuse to have another failure like that no good brother of mine, Amrun. If you want to help the city, you can join the Blood Knights like a responsible citizen.”

“But, Daddy, I don’t want to be a Blood Knight. I have no desire to stand in the front rank of battle and the helmets mess up your hair!”

“Now dear,” said Callaine’s mother gently. “You know that not all Blood Knights are fighters like your father. Many are excellent healers too.”

“And,” her father added in exasperation, “it is entirely possible to have good hair and be an effective Blood Knight.” He shook his heavy mane, which fell to his waist in a platinum sheet, in emphasis.”

Callaine’s lip wobbled. “But, Daddy, I don’t want to.”

Her mother sighed. “Why not, darling? I know you better than to think it is your hair. You’ve never cared for that properly like your brother does.”

Callaine looked at her parents with an expression of resignation. “You’re not going to like it. Can’t we leave it as hair?”

“No.” Her father said flatly, with the same finality in which he might have told an invading army that it could not pass before raising his sword and shield and daring it to get past him.

The elf maiden sighed. “I don’t like the feeling of the Light you summon, Daddy. It feels tainted.”

Her father suddenly looked strained. “It is, darling. I don’t like what we have done either but we need it for the city’s defence.”

“Besides,” her mother interjected, “we are lucky really. At least we get to draw our powers from a goodly being of the Light. Many of those poor magisters have to resort to fel energy. Think what that must be like for them.”

“But it isn’t necessary! Your brother is still a priest of the Light. He still uses it.”

“Enough dear,” her mother’s voice had frown sharp. Not honed to the same edge as the greatsword she wielded but Callaine knew she stood on dangerous territory. Still she persevered.

“But it’s…”

“Your mother said enough.” The blood elven patriarch roared and Callaine flinched. “This conversation is over. You will either join the Order or remain at home. And that is final.”

Callaine looked at her mother but all she saw was agreement. Rising, she walked to the door. She managed to remain at a slow pace until she got past it then ran for her chambers where she flung herself on her bed and wept bitterly. She couldn’t be a paladin. She just couldn’t.

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One Comment leave one →
  1. January 16, 2013 13:56

    You do sulky teenager surprisingly well, oh Ursine One…

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