Saran's Story

[Peridan]

Saran was born on the night of a new moon, in the middle of winter. His father Harmin Hallows and his wife, Jennifer Hallows, welcomed him into the world with open arms. With laughter and love they stared at one another with little Saran between them. He was a healthy child with eyes that looked like quicksilver. As Harmin whispered his love to Jennifer, little Saran cooed softly and grasped his fathers callused finger with his tiny hand.

Saran grew into a fine boy. His hair was of the purest silver and his eyes were always full of mischief and laughter. He was always examining things, learning about the natural world around himself. Harmin was a farmer on the outskirts of Silverymoon, and he worked the land and came home every day to his wife and child and the wonderful smell of Jennifer's cooking. The three of them stayed up late into the night as Harmin entertained them with stories of a great hero or mighty dragons. And at night he tucked little Saran into his bed and told him that he was the greatest gift the Lady Selune had ever given him. Saran smiled sleepily and drifted off to a land of adventures and excitement.

When Saran was twelve, his father took him to a field with an archery target set up. He taught him the basics on how to shoot the bow, and explained how to take into account the wind into the path of the arrow.

Harmin picked up his weathered bow, worn but obviously well taken care of.

"Now, son. Most archers will tell you how to aim and to gauge the distance with your eye. They'll explain the neccessity of wearing light armor and the flexibility needed to properly fletch and shoot. But..." Harmin held up a finger with a grin. "...There's another way."

Shifting from foot to foot in excitment in learning how to shoot a bow, Saran's eyes opened wide. "What do you mean, Pop? How do I shoot without taking aim?"

Harmin closed his eyes and nocked the bow. "Watch, my son." He cocked his head as if listening to something, and let the bow loose with a resounding twang. The arrow shot across the field and into the haystack target, dead center in the bulls eye. Saran let out a sound of awe. "Wow, Pop! How'd you do that?" Harmin opened his eyes with a smile. "I simply allowed the arrow to reach its mark. No aiming, no trying to control the arrow more than I needed. I had intent, and I had purpose. The arrow did the rest."

Saran jumped up excitedly. "Let me try, Pop! I can do it too!" Harmin laughed loudly, as he handed Saran a smaller bow. "Sure son, go ahead. Now, remember to take into account the wind..." Saran shook his head. "No, Pop. I'm going to do it like you!"

Without another word, little Saran nocked his bow and closed his eyes. He listened. Not to any singular sound, or anything in particular. He listened to his heartbeat, and even that faded away. All that was left in his mind was the target and his will to--

*Thwack!*

Saran opened his eyes to see his father staring dumb founded at the target. Saran's arrow had split Harmin's own in half, and was quivering in the target, a low humming filling the area.

"Well, I'll be damned." Harmin scratched his head. "That's...great son." Saran beamed with pride. "I did good, Pop?" Harmin chuckled uneasily. "You did great son. Now, let's get inside for dinner."

As Saran skipped ahead to their home, Harmin looked at the bow that Saran had shot from. A small violet disk was burned into the bow where his hand had been. Harmin snapped it in half with one quick movement, and threw it behind the bushes, following his laughing son home, a more sober man.

[Peridan]

They came on the night of a full moon. Saran was woken by the loud banging on the door and the demands for it to open. He shot out of bed and clutched the door frame, looking on as the door bust open with steel blades tearing it apart. His eyes grew wide with fear as he saw the knights. They had silver armor with Silverymoon's symbol inscribed on it, and their winged helms covered their faces. Saran's father strode out of his bedroom, shirtless and enraged.

"What is the meaning of this?! Who are you, and what is going on!?" He demanded, wearing no armor but standing as if he was fully ready for battle. One of the knights removed his helm. He was a middle aged captain, long blond hair and a perfectly heroic face set in granite. "Are you Harmin Hallows? The farmer of these lands, and Hand of Shar?" Harmin's eyes narrowed.

"What? No, I gave up the Dark Lady years ago, I live a normal life and worship Selune! You can't do this!"

The blond captain ignored him and pulled out a scroll with flowing writing that reflected in the moonlight. "You, Harmin Hallows, are under arrest for the worship of the Dark Lady Shar and active participation in her clergy of the Monks of the Dark Moon. You have the right to remain--"

Before he had finished the first sentence, Saran's father was a blur as he disabled and knocked out three of the five guards besides the captain. With simple blows to the neck they fell, and without even having to look he stopped a blade with his bare hands, throwing it aside and crushing the man's face with his fist. The captain drew his blade, dropping the scroll as his sword flashed in the moonlight coming in through the window. As Harmin and the captain fought, Jennifer grabbed the shocked Saran and put him in the closet.

"Stay here, my love. You must survive, please by the Lady survive." She prayed and ran over to where Harmin had been hit in his side, and was bleeding heavily as the captain stood over him. Saran peeked through the closet door, terrified at the sight of his father so pale and the pool of blood collecting around his feet. The captain raised his blade. "I declare you guilty, and sentence you to death, Sharite scum."

Jennifer ran over and covered his body with her own. "Please! I beseech you, spare us!" Her cried were in vain as the captain's flashing blade pierced both of them, and Saran let out a squeak of protest as his parents were murdered in front of him. The captain wiped his blade and sheathed it as his fellow soldiers woke up.

"Burn the house." He said as he strode out and mounted his horse. Harmin looked at his son in the closet, blood dripping from his mouth. "Run, my son. Run." He shuddered once and with a sigh died alongside his love.