Like a ballista shot, the troll jammed his spear up and through the elf. Keelath’s body jerked, head snapping forward and then back from the impact, his fierce snarl turning to an expression of surprise.
This time, Keelath remained silent on the trip home, not even commenting when Evelos’ horse took a spook and ended up in the ditch alongside the road, except to calmly point out a low spot it could climb out from again. At first it felt odd, very odd, to Evelos, but he relaxed into it. It was if a tiny barrier had indeed come down between the two of them, and Keelath had stepped back to let Evelos find his own way. Continue reading “Trials, Part Seven”
Evelos squinted at his father. Was he even real? Or had Evelos just fallen into another part of the Trial?
The red-haired magister had left him again. Evelos realized a few moments later that he couldn’t see because he had closed his eyes, but he didn’t remember doing so. Still, he opened them again, and found he was lying in a bed chamber. The furniture was simple but elegant, like one would put in a guest room or an infirmary. He sat up. His father was sitting on a chair beside him, bent over with his fingers laced together as his hands dangled between his legs. He looked up hopefully as Evelos stirred. Continue reading “Trials, Part Six”
“It is an honor to defend our people, Evelos. You would do well to remember that.”
“Is it also an honor to raise a son and have a happy family?” Evelos countered.
“I am not Keelath. Not the one you remember. I never will be again.”
This scene was based on and uses pieces of the song “Memory” by Andrew Lloyd Weber. Perhaps in time when I clean this up as a stand-alone original work, I’ll write in my own poem, but in its fanfiction form, I figured pulling from two well-loved inspirations wouldn’t go too awry. Continue reading “Reunion”
“How did he take the news?” Mirium asked.
“He’s nervous, as might well be expected…”
“You can’t make him into your brother,” Mirium said quietly. “Evelos is Evelos. Not you.”
He didn’t much like children, with their sticky fingers and runny noses. That his brother’s toddler showed no inclination to meet him was just fine by him.
I remember nothing. This was my first thought.
This short was written from the point of view of my death knight character in World of Warcraft. It’s a little bloody because, well, death knight! (I’d roughly rate it as PG-13.) Continue reading “The Rise of Keelath, Part One”