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At age 10, Scott was set on the road. His mother stomped into his room,told him to pack up what little he had, and shoved him out the door.
Now, Scott Major was a nomad by nature. He was a wandering trader, afterall. It's just his luck that his parents weren't.
The blue haired boy was quick to find a llama to be his companion throughout his travels. His new best friend, Rosie, offered comfort and storage for his possessions. Together, they traveled far across the land, searching for adventure.
At night, sometimes Scott would sit just around the corner from other players telling stories. He never made himself known to them, as strangers were never too kind to children like himself. The players told tales of old empires. Of twin gods who ruled the ocean and wars between salmon and cod.
Scott's favorites though, were the stories of an old elven kingdom set high in the mountains. The king whose name had long been forgotten was the successor of an old god of light. He was said to have uncontrollable ice powers, exiling himself out of fear for the damage he'd cause. Eventually, he had to defeat a demon who had plagued the land by sacrificing himself.
The thing he loved most about the elf king wasn't his misery, though. It was his husband.
The king had been wed to the Codfather, one of the ocean gods. He had been given a poppy in exchange for his love. The two were said to be soulmates, meeting again in every life with only the love they had for each other to hold onto.
Scott wanted to love someone like that.
He and Rosie traveled for a few years together, wandering through villages and kingdoms, though none as grand as those in the stories of old. They traded with everyone they could, trying to stay fed. One day, while trading with another player, the player got fed up with Scott's limited trades and killed Rosie in a blind rage.
Scott barely made it out alive, lasting with only two hearts. Now, with no items and no companion, the young boy walked alone.
At the age of fourteen, Scott stumbled upon a fellow wandering trader. The man had two llamas, both dressed in blue. He wore a colorful fedora with a feather and a well-worn mulberry coat. The man was far older than Scott and far kinder than he was used to. He fed Scott and allowed him to rest near a fire with him and his llamas.
Unintentionally, Scott realized that he had attached himself to the man, viewing him almost as a father figure. The two traveled well together, happening upon many wonders most would never see. Scott developed a love for colors, sewing himself vibrant pieces of clothing from any spare piece of cloth he could swipe from merchants.
The man jokingly referred to him as "Scott the Colorful" and it stuck, becoming his prideful title. Whenever he would introduce himself, he'd make sure to bow dramatically or show off his multicolored patchwork. Some assumed he'd been appointed the title by a noble in a different country, and Scott enjoyed spinning tales of lords and ladies who didn't exist, reveling in the attention from his audience.
The man would laugh and shake his head, but never say a word of how Scott hadn't been within 50 feet of a noble before. And if he noticed how Scott would swipe emeralds or loose trinkets from the people they encountered, he certainly never mentioned it.
Then one day, the man became sick.
Sick in the way that he could barely move around. Sick in the way that doctors and witches didn't know what was wrong with him. Sick in the way that Scott had to watch as his breathing became so shallow that the air didn't reach his lungs.
Scott didn't like having to bury people. He didn't like being too poor to afford a funeral. He thought, maybe, if those stories about nobles were true, then he wouldn't be doing this. He'd be laughing at lords and flirting with princes, not burying the body of his friend and guardian with his own shovel.
Then, Scott was left alone with two llamas, Crow and Mia. He'd make a life with them, even if all he wanted was to wait for the man to come back and hug him one last time.
—
As Scott got older, he decided to become a collector of sorts. He'd go after all the valuable items bounty hunters did but instead of selling them off for the highest price once he'd found them, he'd keep them for himself.
Scott became a well known collector, earning him a handful of sources always willing to drop information. It was like a game to them, betting on who would find the item first and always being ready to help their choice.
It was one of those quiet nights where Scott was resting in a tavern when he was approached by a woman. She looked about his age, maybe older and he assumed her to be the tavern keeper.
"There's something I think you'll be wantin'." she said in a low voice. Scott raised an eyebrow at her, sipping his drink.
"A skull; It's got two huge jewels in the eye sockets. It's hidden in a desert temple and hunters have been trying to find it for weeks," she continued, "But I have a map to it."
Scott sat up straighter, looking in interest at the woman. He hadn't had a new lead for his collection in a while, and one so easy for him to locate would be a welcome addition.
"How much?"
"Pardon?"
"How much do you want for the map?"
"Oh, no." she waved her hand. "I don't want any for it, I just want hunters to stop stomping around town asking about it."
Scott smiled. He could understand, most bounty hunters were incredibly annoying and wouldn't let up if they thought you had even the smallest connection to their target. He held his hand out, and the woman took out the map, dropping it into his grasp.
"I don't want to hear anything else about it, so you better find that skull and leave with it," she told him, exhausted. Scott nodded, quickly thanking her and paying for his drink before leaving towards the desert.
—
Scott set up camp at the temple, tying up Crow and Mia and making sure they were all fed before venturing into the darkness. It took him hours to navigate and traverse the winding tunnels, narrowly avoiding the booby traps and mobs. His fedora was shot off by arrows several times and by the 8th, he gave up on pulling them out.
After what seemed like an eternity, Scott found himself in the center room. The skull was displayed proudly near the back of the room. Scott stepped forward, jumping back almost immediately to avoid getting crushed. He pulled himself together, quickly moving to inspect the skull.
Unlike what the woman said, the skull only contained one jewel. It was bright red, glinting in the light of his lantern. The young man carefully held it in his arms, making his way back to the surface.
He displayed it on top of the furnace in his tent, pride thrumming through him. Others had been searching out here for weeks and Scott had found the skull in a matter of hours.
Scott stretched, tired from dodging traps and straining his eyes in the limited light. He curled up in his blankets and dreamed lightly about magic and flowers.
—
When Scott woke up, he was overwhelmed by pain. His eye felt like it was being stabbed repeatedly. He tried to open both of his eyes and found that he could barely see. He pushed himself up, feeling lightheaded from the shooting pain in his head.
The blue haired man looked over to the skull that was displayed so proudly on his furnace and felt his stomach drop. There, where there was previously only one gem, sat another one, only this one was green.
Green like Scott's eyes.
Scott stumbled to his double chest, pulling out a mirror and looking in horror as he realized that he only had one eye.
He cried, panicking and overwhelmed. What could he do about it? He didn't have any magic and he didn't know anyone who could fix this. Scott sat there, knees pulled up to his chest for a while, letting himself panic until all of his energy was gone.
Scott looked to his llamas, wishing for once that he had another person to talk to.
"Crow, Mia… what am I going to do?"
—
After wandering for quite some time, looking for anyone who could help him, Scott stumbled upon an old wizard in the swamps. He begged the wizard to help him, but the man just wasn't interested. That is, until Scott showed him the skull.
The man ushered Scott inside. He made a deal with Scott: In exchange for returning Scott's eye, he got to keep the skull. Scott was happy to be rid of the skull with how much trouble it had caused him.
The wizard brewed a potion, pressuring Scott to drink it before he went to bed. Scott passed out, dreaming of nothing.
In the morning, Scott would wake to find the house completely empty except for him, as if no one had lived there. He made his way to the water and saw in his reflection that he now had his eye back, but it was golden. He marveled at it momentarily before getting on his way, heading toward a table with twelve seats.