The Zekoning

[JotunWarrior]

Dragons
Aboard a raft sailing the Luirenstrand, a halfling child named Xaayne and his father, Thom, sat fishing for snappers.

"Da', when can we have dragon hearts again?" Xaayne had asked his father this question every day for three weeks, and every time his father responded, "Next time I slay one, my boy!" He half-smiled every time, amused by the naivety of his son.

"But da', you haven't slain any dragons in weeks!"

"Well Xaayne, maybe you should just settle with snappers, then."

"But I don't want no snappers, not when I could be eating dragon hearts!" As if to emphasize the point, the small child tossed the only snapper he had caught that day back into the water.

"Well fine then, but now you won't get a snapper either!" Thom exclaimed good-naturedly before quickly diving into the water after the fish.

Xaayne stared in astonishment, sure that a halfling couldn't swim with such speed; obviously his father's many years of eating dragon hearts had made him twice as strong and fast as the average halfling, and it had nothing to do with the fact his father had twenty years experience as a whaler.

What little Xaayne should have been staring at, however, was the area surrounding his father; the little wisps of blood that were seeping from the thrown fish carcass, and the fin of a hungry sea predator closing in on its dinner.

"Da'!" was the only thing the child could scream as his father disappeared into a toothy maw.

[JotunWarrior]

Bears

Several years later, Xaayne was wandering along the coast of Luiren. He had run away from his home for the summer, as teenagers are known to do, and was walking alone down a forest road when he heard a pack of squabbling goblins up ahead.

Sneaking off the main road, he crept along the bases of the trees, keeping as low to the ground as possible. He approached the goblins from the north, and peeked out at them from behind a large oak tree.

A large goblin, wearing a decaying wolf's head for a hat, barked commands to its underlings. The vast horde of grunts, Xaayne counted almost thirty, moved about rapidly as they looted a destroyed caravan. A few human guards were scattered on the ground, twitching slightly as starving goblins ripped their innards out and pilfered their equipment.

Xaayne stared at the goblins in abject horror, the massive creatures must have been at least four feet tall. A single one could run him through without a second thought, and he knew it.

He started to slide away from the tree, sickened by the sight of grubby hands tearing apart human flesh, when a low growl stopped him in his tracks. A goblin had found its way to his hiding spot, and screeched its horrible language at Xaayne, gesturing wildly with a spear.

The goblins vicious spear was already soaked in blood, and Xaayne had considerable time to notice this as the spear pierced his throat. He staggered back, his hands reaching up in a vain attempt to keep his blood from flowing. It didn't work, and he fell backwards into darkness.

He awoke some time later, to find the area bathed in goblinblood. Standing among a pile of fresh corpses, a massive bear eight times the size of the halfling youngster roared in fury as it struck the largest goblin's head with a savage paw. The creature's neck exploded into a thick red mist as its head landed at Xaayne's feet.

The massive bear turned to look at Xaayne, and almost imperceptibly nodded its massive head to him, before dashing off to hunt any stragglers.

Xaayne snapped out of his trance, his mind racing as it desperately tried to comprehend what just happened. Remembering the speargoblin, his right hand darted to his neck, the only remnant of the wound a slight scar.

'Time to go home." He mumbled to himself as he finally fled the bloody scene.

[JotunWarrior]

Life

Xaayne vowed never to leave his homestead again. His mother was ecstatic that Xaayne was staying to be a fisherman, especially once she sailed off to an island paradise and left Xaayne to the fish.

Xaayne loved his mother dearly, especially because she was the only blood relation he had left. He took the coins he made from selling his catch at market and sent half of them to his mother, promising he'd keep her living comfortably for the rest of her life.

Now a young man, Xaayne quickly found himself enamored with a fishmonger's daughter. They snuck around at night, Xaayne and Emily, whispering sweet nothings as they strolled along deserted Luiren roads.

Then one day, he proposed to her.

[JotunWarrior]

Love

Bliss. Xaayne had gotten married and fathered three wonderful children. He laughed and played games with his family. He was truly happy, the memories of goblins and dragons pushed from his mind.

Then one day, he killed them all.

[JotunWarrior]

First Blood

Some things are best left forgotten.

[JotunWarrior]

Fragments

Gone.
Self, memory, soul.
Gone.

Loss.
Incomprehensible and absolute.
An amnesiac.
His only possession:
Loss.

He was hollow.
A shell resting in the dark.
Nothing stirred in him.
Until; Red.
And the rage was made that day.
And it would always stay.

He rose then; a man reborn.
Born from blood and bile.
Baptized in battle.
And fled into the dark.