Akkar
Hero-in-Training
Freelancer
member is offline
![[avatar]](http://www.360monster.com/achievements/0000000070/Champion%20of%20Cyrodiil.jpg)
Joined: Mar 2007
Gender: Male 
Posts: 54
Karma: 1 |  | A Mother's Love
« Thread Started on Apr 2, 2007, 12:06am » | |
In a damp cabin within the mosquito-infested town of Bravil, a figure lay sprawled on the floor, panting. He rolled up, twisting to the side as he did so, before lowering himself to the floor. A slight pause, and he rose again. A breathless whisper could be heard with each movement; the counting puff of Aaron’s voice.
Sweat glazed his skin, and a drop parted from his face to land on the mouldy wooden floor. With each motion, his eyes fell upon the filthy state of the room - a toppled chair, bed with bundled sheets, cupboards overflowing with an unpleasant mix of clothing and foodstuffs…
The boy lay down, a slight creak resounding from below him. He wiped at his skin, breathing in the humid air.
A sharp tap on his door made him leap up suddenly, hand at the waist. Another knock. His fingers tightened around the shortsword. Another. Then –
“Aaron! You there?”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes, mother,” he called in response. He let go of the sword, throwing a shirt over his torso.
“Well? Are you going to let me in, or make me stay out here all day?”
The second was the most appealing to him, but he instead closed one of the buttons on the shirt before opening the door to his house.
A kindly woman stood on the other side, smiling at him in the morning sun. She had, in her hands, a bulging rucksack, the contents of which Aaron could only imagine. She pushed past him and into the house, clucking disapprovingly.
“You should clean this place up every once in a few years, you know. It’s unhealthy like this.”
“Yes, mother.”
She picked up what appeared at first sight to be a crumpled set of clothes, only to find it to be a rotted head of lettuce. She looked at her son, shaking her head.
“What have you come here for, mum? There’s only so many times you can berate me on the state of this place.”
A thump echoed from above, a passed out addict, no doubt.
She sighed, saying, “I really don’t like you hanging about all these Khajiit and Argonians…”, muttering darkly about their ways. Growing up in High Rock, she had never truly gotten used to the diversity of Cyrodiil.
“You havn’t been up there yourself, now, have you?”
“No, mother.”
“Good. Blasted skooma…”
She turned to him, examining her eldest son. “My, you’ve gotten bigger, to!”
“You always say that, mum.”
“Well, it’s true.”
“No, you’re just getting smaller.”
She scowled at him, but was evidently suppressing a giggle. In the end, she gazed about the house, and said, “What your father would say about this place…”
She cut off, seeing the look on her son’s face. “Are you alright?”
“Fine.”
She sighed. “You need to stop this silly search f-“
“No!”
The woman was taken aback by Aaron’s sudden ferocity, and gazed at him with wide eyes. She looked away, moving to where she had dropped her bag.
“I thought as much. That’s why I brought you this.”
From deep in the sack, she drew out a folded garment. She shook it out to reveal an emerald-coloured vest – the colour of their family crest. She brought it over to Aaron, a glint in her eye. “Something to help you on your travels,” she said.
Aaron ran his fingers over the vest, realising it was, in fact, made of leather. “Dyed it myself,” his mother said. “The studs cost extra, but I didn’t want to lose both my sons...”
She trailed off, looking away as she dropped the vest into Aaron’s hands.
“That wasn’t your fault, Mother.”
“But I just left him there, I should have-”
“What would you have done? What could you have done?”
A tear slid down her cheek. Aaron brought a hand to her, rubbing it away with his thumb.
“I don’t want to have my entire family lost to them, son.”
“I know. That’s why I must do this.”
She looked up at him, a sense of pride welled behind her eyes.
“I’m getting closer. I can feel it.”
His mother nodded, and composed herself before saying, “Well at least get yourself some help. Go and see Locke, see if he can aid you.”
Aaron’s mind darted at the thought. Locke, the Master of the Fighters’ guild, who he had worked under for a time. That was, until he got himself expelled. He shuddered to think how Locke would react to seeing him again, after all this time.
“I will, mother,” he said, feeling that he should probably obey at least one of her wishes for today. “Come on, I’ll take you back to the city. Can’t just leave you to heft that around, now can I?”, motioning to the bag.
She giggled, trying to lighten her mood. “Okay. But I want this place tidied up as soon as you get back!”
“Yes, mother.”
With that, he hefted the sack onto his back to begin the long trek to the Imperial City. Then, he would meet up with Locke. Time was growing ever shorter, the window for salvation narrowing. He had to find his brother, and his father, before their time ran out.
| |
|
![[Search This Thread]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/search2.gif)
![[Send Topic To Friend]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/buttons/sendtopic.gif)
![[Print]](http://s1.images.proboards.com/buttons/print.gif)
Author
Logged