Danos awoke with a start, his breath panting and sweat soaking his body as he lurched forward and sat at the side of his bed. Light what a nightmare, and always the same thought Danos as he fumbled in the dark for his lantern, finally lighting the wick.
The feeble glow of the oil lamp soon banished the darkness and Danos took the space his new room offered him to stretch and move. He was tempted to return to his bed, but he knew sleep would never return now as the first rays of dawn were beginning to lighten the night sky.
Danos almost reached for the Ko’di, but as he began to imagine the whirlwinds and spinning torrent of air in his mind, he realized he had been using the Void to shove these feelings down since his return. “Light, you learned to face hunger, the dark, exhaustion and now dreams chase you,” muttered Danos as he looked at his haggard appearance in the mirror.
The nightmare had been plaguing him for days now, always the same. A thunder crashing, lightning flash illuminated struggle between him and a bear. But the rest was never the same, some nights he was a blood stained monster, wrestling with a cub while other times the bear dwarfed him by many hands with teeth and claws like swords in the night.
Danos knew he had been forced to take the bears life, and although he had hunted many times he had never had a death affect him quite so much. Looking into the mirror, he realized now that his face seemed more akin to the Drin’far’ji he had met from the Borderlands. It’s the eyes, I know now what this duty might demand of me, and I’ve accepted that thought Danos as he recalled the hectic fight with the raging animal.
It had truly been a fight for life or death, much so than any hunt he had ever been on. In the hunts he killed a deer or hare for meat, and his Uncle had instilled in him a great respect for the animals a hunter killed. The bear he had slain to continue living, as simple as that.
Blooded the single word rang into his mind, half remembered from a lecture on the training of men. One of his newer classes now that he was a Ji’alantin, where he was learning the art and duty of commanding men should he be asked.
A blooded soldier knew death, had faced it and come back from the battlefield, and though he had not slain another warrior, Danos knew he could take another life to protect his own. Looking down he noticed the bracers on the table, laid out beside his uniform for this morning’s classes and training. They were well crafted, the leather supple and amber in the lamplight.
“I need to find a new balance. Too much of what I learn is death or the dealing of. I need to create, I need to teach or build something here too,” Danos declared to his reflection in the mirror. With that thought in mind, he settled into his warm up exercises and allowed the familiar movements of his body to shake away the fatigue and horror of the nightmares. He knew he needed time to figure out what the future would hold, and many trials till his fancloak, but he would ensure he remained as much a man as a weapon as he advanced.
The feeble glow of the oil lamp soon banished the darkness and Danos took the space his new room offered him to stretch and move. He was tempted to return to his bed, but he knew sleep would never return now as the first rays of dawn were beginning to lighten the night sky.
Danos almost reached for the Ko’di, but as he began to imagine the whirlwinds and spinning torrent of air in his mind, he realized he had been using the Void to shove these feelings down since his return. “Light, you learned to face hunger, the dark, exhaustion and now dreams chase you,” muttered Danos as he looked at his haggard appearance in the mirror.
The nightmare had been plaguing him for days now, always the same. A thunder crashing, lightning flash illuminated struggle between him and a bear. But the rest was never the same, some nights he was a blood stained monster, wrestling with a cub while other times the bear dwarfed him by many hands with teeth and claws like swords in the night.
Danos knew he had been forced to take the bears life, and although he had hunted many times he had never had a death affect him quite so much. Looking into the mirror, he realized now that his face seemed more akin to the Drin’far’ji he had met from the Borderlands. It’s the eyes, I know now what this duty might demand of me, and I’ve accepted that thought Danos as he recalled the hectic fight with the raging animal.
It had truly been a fight for life or death, much so than any hunt he had ever been on. In the hunts he killed a deer or hare for meat, and his Uncle had instilled in him a great respect for the animals a hunter killed. The bear he had slain to continue living, as simple as that.
Blooded the single word rang into his mind, half remembered from a lecture on the training of men. One of his newer classes now that he was a Ji’alantin, where he was learning the art and duty of commanding men should he be asked.
A blooded soldier knew death, had faced it and come back from the battlefield, and though he had not slain another warrior, Danos knew he could take another life to protect his own. Looking down he noticed the bracers on the table, laid out beside his uniform for this morning’s classes and training. They were well crafted, the leather supple and amber in the lamplight.
“I need to find a new balance. Too much of what I learn is death or the dealing of. I need to create, I need to teach or build something here too,” Danos declared to his reflection in the mirror. With that thought in mind, he settled into his warm up exercises and allowed the familiar movements of his body to shake away the fatigue and horror of the nightmares. He knew he needed time to figure out what the future would hold, and many trials till his fancloak, but he would ensure he remained as much a man as a weapon as he advanced.
