Hello loves! While I haven't been writing, I have been working on updating some issues that have been hanging around on the layout! The Character change box is now at the bottom of the page, beside the up/down arrows! Green and Gold dragon flight dates have been shifted to the bottom of the page, where the (useless!) discord widget was located. Where the dragon flights were in the header, is now replaced by a Monthly Event box! This will be updated at the start of each month, with a fun mini-event you can take part in, if you want to! Thistle!
20.Jan.12, 05:40 AM
He certainly felt alone. B'jin's little story didn't make him feel much better, for he found himself skeptical. People like that were usually told to appear sympathetic or friendly, like some of his teachers back at the hall, or even perhaps his father. As he glanced sullenly across the table, the young man barely noticed B'jin's saddened expression. It was overshadowed by the exaggerated image of Talerian, the young healer's father, who so often spoke in the same way.
"I know you want this," Talerian would say, "but that is better for you in the long run. I felt that was when I was your age, too, and look how I turned out!"
Look how I turned out...
Look how I turned out...
"I love you, son. I want what's best for you."
Talian shuddered, perhaps in response to B'jin or to his own little flashback. A dour expression solidified on his face. He looked like a ghost in comparison to his previously confused but still vibrant self. Yes, he was like a little ghost, huddled opposite of B'jin and threatening to evaporate away with the first gust of wind or heavy breath.
He didn't want to build a new life. It was too hard to build the one he had before. He'd finally been recognized for all his hard work; pouring his entire childhood into a field that he didn't even choose! Every evening, every weekend, every birthday and holiday! Every shred of his energy went right to the cause, as if that marvelous brain of his would atrophy overnight if not put to constant effort. And then, thrust into the world as a journeyman with absolutely no socialization? Sent away from the only home he knew with no preparation? He would mend flesh, but he sure as shards couldn't deal with the public!
Those turns had helped him improve, though. He slowly got used to talking to people, though he never outgrew his shyness. He realized he cared about them. They were all so interesting and bright, so alive in ways he was unaccustomed to seeing. As he became comfortable, his experience grew quickly...and he was finally rewarded with his promotion. He could stay at the hall and practice more, work on his specialization...and of course, there was Fiora.
Somehow, he wanted to blame Talerian for this. He'd gotten too close to being able to take care of himself. The old man must have hated losing control.
He had no energy to argue. He wilted before B'jin and squeezed his knots until his knuckles went white. "Just do whatever you're going to do, I suppose," he said as steadily as he could, realizing all to well that to fight was pointless. He felt for a moment that his own heartbeat had faded away. "What...happens now?"
"I know you want this," Talerian would say, "but that is better for you in the long run. I felt that was when I was your age, too, and look how I turned out!"
Look how I turned out...
Look how I turned out...
"I love you, son. I want what's best for you."
Talian shuddered, perhaps in response to B'jin or to his own little flashback. A dour expression solidified on his face. He looked like a ghost in comparison to his previously confused but still vibrant self. Yes, he was like a little ghost, huddled opposite of B'jin and threatening to evaporate away with the first gust of wind or heavy breath.
He didn't want to build a new life. It was too hard to build the one he had before. He'd finally been recognized for all his hard work; pouring his entire childhood into a field that he didn't even choose! Every evening, every weekend, every birthday and holiday! Every shred of his energy went right to the cause, as if that marvelous brain of his would atrophy overnight if not put to constant effort. And then, thrust into the world as a journeyman with absolutely no socialization? Sent away from the only home he knew with no preparation? He would mend flesh, but he sure as shards couldn't deal with the public!
Those turns had helped him improve, though. He slowly got used to talking to people, though he never outgrew his shyness. He realized he cared about them. They were all so interesting and bright, so alive in ways he was unaccustomed to seeing. As he became comfortable, his experience grew quickly...and he was finally rewarded with his promotion. He could stay at the hall and practice more, work on his specialization...and of course, there was Fiora.
Somehow, he wanted to blame Talerian for this. He'd gotten too close to being able to take care of himself. The old man must have hated losing control.
He had no energy to argue. He wilted before B'jin and squeezed his knots until his knuckles went white. "Just do whatever you're going to do, I suppose," he said as steadily as he could, realizing all to well that to fight was pointless. He felt for a moment that his own heartbeat had faded away. "What...happens now?"
