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Bygone

Summary:

You remember the events that brought you to the circle one dreary day.

Notes:

Just a heads-up so you don't get too confused, this occurs before 'Origins of a Mage'! Still in the circle, and reminiscing and all that, though I suppose it's more like a flashback? Hah, just enjoy!

Work Text:

 You sighed, pushing your hair behind your ear. You sat besides an open window, peering at the water down below, the moon reflected on the water, creating an eerie scene. You slumped against the back of your chair, frowning.

 

 Even after so many years, the feeling of being cooped up in the tower was almost too much to bear.

 

 You recalled your life before, you lived with your mother and your older brother, your father occasionally visited from the Castle. Though the place was far too small to call such, the noble who owned it insisted it was to be called such.

 

 The house was small and could probably barely be called a shack on it's good days.  It was two rooms, and your mother and father had one room, which you would all stay in most nights.  Except on nights when your father visited, normally.

 

 There were occasions you would all cuddle up on your parent's bed, but since your brother got older, such occasions were few and far between. So when your father visited, you and your brother slept in the other room, by the fireplace.

 

 You weren't sure what your mother worked as, but she worked during the day and sometimes well into the night. Your father worked in the castle, rarely coming home,  and your brother was a messenger for the local shopkeepers. You would see him running all about the village, sweat on his brow and all varieties of things in or on his arms.

 

 You however, stayed home.

 

 You were too young to have a job.

 

 So, you watched.

 

 Passing villagers, Templar, prisoners, thrives, criminals, spies. You never told anyone what you saw, but oh how you saw.

 

 You saw everything.

 

 Perhaps you were too young to to understand, but you knew that was just an excuse for keeping it all secret.  Who would believe an elf anyhow? Especially an 'ignorant' child.

 

 A stolen moment, a passing touch. Secret meetings, notes for someone that they someone didn't write. You saw it all, the affairs, the dirty dealings, the trade.

 

 Your brother, in the middle of it. He used to be kind, warm, the perfect brother. But he began drifting, mother and father grew worried, you grew cold. It was because you knew, why he drifted, you saw. It was your world after all, you weren't quite sure when it happened exactly. Perhaps it was when your mother disappeared for longer and longer, or when you brother left too, leaving you alone in the house, for days at times.

 

 Either way, secrets become your world. Everything was comprised of secrets, and everyone had them. Some even hid behind them, in fact, most did. Your village wasn't just the bookkeeper and her three dogs, or the kind lady and the blacksmith. It was the woman hiding from her husband with her guard dogs, the gold digger who was to be married an eighth time, and the fence.

 

 It was a game at first, how much could you find out about him, what secrets is she hiding, what became of his adopted son? Then, something happened, something that changed your game.

 

 Your brother was bringing a message from the castle to the house, the first time he has been home in several days, and mother had left for work two days prior. You normally wouldn't bother, but you hadn't spoken in weeks. There was never time to speak with mother between her cooking meals to leave for you and sleeping, and you didn't have friends. No one wanted to be friends with the filthy knife ear, after all.

 

 It was a message from father, claiming he couldn't come home yet. You waved it to the table where your brother begrudgingly put it down. He quickly began to leave but you took his sleeve, stopping him.

 

 He blinked owlishly at you, tilting his head.

 

 "What is it, Itty?" Your brother asked, eyebrows creased. "I have to get back to work." You shook your head.

 

 "No problem, except you staying. The shem will only live a little longer." You spoke quietly, your voice rough from lack of use and breaking half way. However, the condition of your voice had no effect on your words. Your brother froze, going rigid as he stared at you, mouth agape.

 

 "Itty.. What are you-" You cut him off with a frown.

 

 "I know, you will stay, brother." You stressed the word, lips in a hard line. Your brother visibly swallowed and nodded his head, sitting down beside you, rushing into a conversation.

 

 The game was different then, because you could make it work, in your favor. You put it work after.

 

 You noticed the walls were weakening, a hole cast a beam of sunlight in your face. You scowled for a moment, then left.

 

 Misplaced whispers, and twisted notes left in bad places, and suddenly there was no more hole, the leak on the roof was fixed, and a new room was added, cotton mattresses instead of straw ones.

 

 It was surprisingly.. easy. No one questioned when they saw you moving about the village before, but now, no one bothered you, or caused trouble for you.

 

 When your mother returned she was shocked and baffled, questioning your brother's actions. He said it wasn't his work, and sent word to father. In his note, he also assumed it was your brother. Then after many arguments, your mother's gaze turned, to you. You ignored her stare and offered her a small smile as she escaped into the market.

 

 Your brother watched you with sharp eyes now, as he knew your ignorance was simply an act. A mask you put on, as it may be.

 

 You watched him back, taking in his new scar, a shallow scar running from his jaw to his hairline. You tilted your head, staring at him with doe eyes. He scoffed and turned away.

 

 Your mother was asking questions in the market, you realized, only a short while later as a skittish child came to you with tears in his eyes, begging you not to do anything to his father for his slip up. You tilted your head, this human child was older than you, his father was the blacksmith. You momentarily wondered what caused the child to come crying to you, and scowled as the child explained.

 

 Ignoring the eyes of your brother, you left to the market. Barely nine, and you were feared, for your secrets, for what would happen if anyone found out. You were a tiny elf, no one would've believed you if you did tell!

 

 You froze mid step, that was before, you reminded yourself. Before you learned how to manipulate the game. Your mind reeled at that realization. You frowned, emotions rushing through you at the realization.

 

 You looked around you at the villagers that all but cowered away from you, heads down.

 

 You shoved your thoughts in the back of your head with a shake and continued your way through the market.

 

 "Mother. Enough." You kept your voice low, slipping on another mask, pouting and blinking owlishly at your mother. "Your scaring people."

 

 "Me? Child, look what you've become! The things I hear.. What happened to you?" You turned to glare at the crying blacksmith, curling into a corner of his shop. Your mask dropping as your mother already knew the ignorance was a facade.

 

 "You weren't supposed to hear anything." You ground your teeth, and with a flick of your hand, the blacksmith ran off with cried apologies.

 

 "My own child, a monster!" Your mother collapsed to the ground, sobbing. You froze at the spoken word. You frowned and turned on your heel, your thoughts rushing back.

 

 A monster? Is that what you were? You shuddered, leaving the marketplace and finding yourself in the forest.

 

 You wandered for a time, lost in your thoughts.

 

 It was only when a chilling wind blew that you became aware that the sun had fallen and the moon had taken it's place. You wandered back home.

 

 Your eyes lit up as you caught sight of familiar brown hair and tan skin that was your father.

 

 You bounded to the door, only to freeze. Your mother had reached him before you. The door shut and three sets of eyes were on you.

 

 "Monster." The first word out of your mother's mouth, the looks of distrust and disbelief from your brother and your father. You snapped, tears rushing down your cheeks as a scream tore from your throat. You were suddenly very angry, and very sad. You couldn't find a way to express them both, and you felt something rushing through you, something setting her nerves on your fire as your hands were engulfed in light.

 

 You cried out, throwing your arms over your eyes as you fell to the ground.

 

 "You're the ones that left! You left me all alone! You're the ones that drifted away and left me by myself! Don't blame me for something that's your fault!" Your cried, everything going white as something surged from your palms.

 

 You cried and yelled until you became aware of the heat of a fire. You looked up in shock, flames and electricity licking at your skin. You swallowed hard, crying out as you saw the still bodies in front of you.

 

 You shook as you crawled over to them, shaking hands reaching out to grasp at your father's tunic, his body face down, blood pooling around him.

 

You shook your head and cried. You only stopped when you couldn't cry anymore, your eyes burned, your face hurt and every breath was a chore, smoke and heat surrounding you.

 

 You quickly became aware of shouting from outside, and then the door was thrown open and you stared at the armored figure for a moment before stumbling to your feet and bolting through the flames.

 

 You ran out of the house, shaking your head and muttering under your breath. Everything blurred past you, the clang of metal following behind you.

 

 You ran until you came upon a stone wall, running into it and wheezing, you leaned your head against it for a moment, turning as the sound of metal stopped. You stood facing a Templar.

 

 "Stop mage! Do not resist any longer or I will use lethal force!" Not a nice Templar, you decided.

 

 You looked down at your hand, cradling a small flame in your palm. You could've laughed if everything didn't hurt so bad.

 

 "Monster, indeed."

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