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Darkness.
Head filled with thoughts and sounds and mere fleeting flickers of light.
Growing up he acclimates rather quickly to the dark, relying on echolocation techniques he picks up from his saurian friends. He won’t ever deny being grateful for what little he can see, watching the low glowing souls of everyone around him.
It is easy, it is practical, he tells himself. Sticking to his familiar gardens, away from prying eyes that might ask too many questions. Not that he will lie if his secret is discovered. But the kind and polite words will be smothered with pity and sympathy for his condition, and he has never wanted that kind of attention directed at him to begin with.
With a quiet sigh, he shakes the clouds from his anxious mind and refocuses on the task at hand. These aphids aren’t going to tend themselves.
The minutes pass in silence, only the stray breeze keeping him company. And he finds comfort in it. It’s all too easy to get distracted and overwhelmed when there are too many sounds surrounding him, suffocating him. This is how he prefers to live. He’s never had much of a problem with it, taking each obstacle in stride. At this point his friends might end up being more shocked that he has managed to hide this dark part of him for so long. Out of sight, out of mind, as they say.
He feels the sun’s warm rays heating his back, taking a mental note of the time. Just after noon.
He wipes the sweat from his forehead, grabbing the basket of harvested vegetables and wordlessly begins to make his way inside.
He tilts his head, a low sound coming from his throat. The echos return, and he confidently moves around the familiar hut. Vegetables in the sink to be washed, empty basket on the table next to the door for easy access later in the night, and sweat soaked jacket draped over the washbin to clean while dinner is cooking.
Satisfied, he goes about his afternoon, occasionally humming to himself just for the company.
Hours pass. It’s hard to tell when he’s not by the sun-lit window what time it is. But the roasting stew brews the delicious scent from the firepit.
The normal routine continues. He spends his mornings in the garden and spends his nights by the crackle of the fireplace. Most of the time he wakes with limbs draped over the chair or half falling out of the bed. Today is different, though.
He jolts awake, heart pounding, cold sweat sticking to his skin. With frantic touches, he reassures himself that he is safe in his hut, and groans as he makes his way to the shower.
The remnants of nightmares plague him, just there in the shadows. Something has settled in, the sharp claws of unease. But there is no reason to be nervous, so he attempts to shove it away with little success.
He goes about his day, taking a mental note of the time as he grabs the empty basket and heads out to the garden. It’s late, almost noon already. What should have been a sigh of annoyance turns to a stiffening sound of confusion as he sees the brightest glow he’s ever seen, just off at the edge of the garden by the looks of it.
His senses immediately are thrown into high alert, and he ignores the alarm bells as he steps closer.
It’s ominous. Yet almost ethereal.
No soul has ever shown this brightly, not a single one. Not even from the pyro archon and her shining soul. Something is wrong with this, and his curiosity overshadows his anxieties.
“Are you the one that tends these gardens?”
Oh.
The voice does not match the brilliant glow of the soul, powerful and commanding.
He lowers his head just to get a break from the blinding light for a moment. “Yes, sir. This is my garden. Are you here for some vegetables?”
The awkward chuckle from the stranger does not go unnoticed. “Not today. I was simply admiring your work. It’s very organized and efficient.”
A slow heat makes its way to his cheeks, and he nods again dumbly. “Thank you, sir.”
A moment.
Then two.
He quickly stumbles over his words, suddenly feeling nervous in the silence. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like some vegetables? I just picked them yesterday. Or maybe some soup? I-”
A hand on his shoulder halts his brain completely. The glow of this man’s soul seems more intense now? This man isn’t normal…
“Calm yourself.” The voice commands, but gentle, soft. “I just wanted to compliment your field. I will be on my way now.”
“Wait-” What compels him to grab the man’s hand is beyond him. Yet as soon as he does, his whole body stiffens, haunting voices echoing, the smell of fire, destruction, screams, save me save me save me save-
Soft murmurs.
“There we are, he’s waking up now.”
“Very good. Fetch some of his soup.”
“Yes, sir!”
Soup…? Slowly he comes to, the familiar smell of his signature vegetable soup fills the air, and he’s gently handed a bowl.
There are several glowing souls around him. In his hut. For some reason his nervousness spikes. Normally he goes to see people, not the other way around.
“Calm yourself, child.” A gentle voice breaks his chattery thoughts. “Do you know what made you faint out in your garden?”
The garden? Right. He went outside to tend his aphids and…
He frowns, looking deep into the glowing light of the sun. “I don’t know.” He says honestly.
A short hum.
Why is this man’s soul so bright? And why did he pass out when he touched him? The questions multiply the longer he thinks about them.
“Make sure to get some rest.” The man commands.
He begins to retreat, two other less bright souls following behind.
Offended at the lack of answers, he stops the man after a few steps.
“What’s your name, sir?”
There is a longer pause than what is considered normal. Then the man clears his throat.
“Capitano.”
He nods slowly, accepting the information. He stands, extending his hand. “My name is Ororon.”
A hand shakes his own, one that does not feel like the rough warm hand that had touched his shoulder out in the garden.
“Get some rest, Ororon.”
He huffs quietly.
“Will you be back?”
Another pause. One that he can’t ignore.
“I’m sure my men will like some vegetables with their dinner tomorrow.”
Ororon nods, then grins. “I’ll have some ready for you, Capitano.”
Whatever mysteries this Capitano is hiding, he will find out about them.