03-21-2018, 10:33 AM
Home. The thought felt strange to him as his echoed through his head. Standing just upon the outskirts of Ischia, he’d paused to consider his life as it was. He’d been born and raised within the confined of the island. His parents had taught him the meaning of loyalty to their queen, Krone, and had taught him the importance of defending all that they’d towards. Brennen, his father, had worked tirelessly to ensure that his children would not be washed away by the ever-strengthening tide of life. In the depths of his earliest memories, he could easily recall the tireless days of constant training. His father’s determination to see his children become successful warriors never faltered, even despite Belgaer’s other varying interests.
He’d hoped his success during the Beqanna Olympics would bring pride to his parents. Even though he’d only managed second place, he felt proud of his accomplishment – even more proud to have gifted his winnings to his older sister. He knew his father would frown upon his son’s foolish generosity. Belgaer had an opportunity to further his advantage in battle and, yet, he’d given it thoughtlessly to his sister. A girl.
Mosrael was just as deserving, if not more so, of a gift from the gods. She would benefit greatly from their generosity, whereas such a token was lost to him.
Though talented in his own right as a warrior, his true interests lay elsewhere. He was drawn towards the people, towards diplomacy. The very thought seared through him like a betrayal. Brennen frowned upon such a position for men – especially his sons. Though he would never say it, Belgaer could sense his father’s disappointment.
A coastal wind drifted towards him from the shoreline not to far in the distance. He was glad winter was over. The coming new year held much promise for the young stud. He hoped to further his service as a diplomat, to bring great pride to their benevolent queen. More than anything, however, he wanted to prove to his father that he could bring honor to their father outside of the warrior’s guild. He’d leave the fighting to his other siblings – to Mosrael. There would be no more hiding for him. He would tell his father of his plans, even if it meant disappointing him.
@[Brennen] Aren't you glad you don't have to talk to yourself anymore?
He’d hoped his success during the Beqanna Olympics would bring pride to his parents. Even though he’d only managed second place, he felt proud of his accomplishment – even more proud to have gifted his winnings to his older sister. He knew his father would frown upon his son’s foolish generosity. Belgaer had an opportunity to further his advantage in battle and, yet, he’d given it thoughtlessly to his sister. A girl.
Mosrael was just as deserving, if not more so, of a gift from the gods. She would benefit greatly from their generosity, whereas such a token was lost to him.
Though talented in his own right as a warrior, his true interests lay elsewhere. He was drawn towards the people, towards diplomacy. The very thought seared through him like a betrayal. Brennen frowned upon such a position for men – especially his sons. Though he would never say it, Belgaer could sense his father’s disappointment.
A coastal wind drifted towards him from the shoreline not to far in the distance. He was glad winter was over. The coming new year held much promise for the young stud. He hoped to further his service as a diplomat, to bring great pride to their benevolent queen. More than anything, however, he wanted to prove to his father that he could bring honor to their father outside of the warrior’s guild. He’d leave the fighting to his other siblings – to Mosrael. There would be no more hiding for him. He would tell his father of his plans, even if it meant disappointing him.
@[Brennen] Aren't you glad you don't have to talk to yourself anymore?