Kerrian

As I lie in my bed in the middle of the night, it comes again to haunt my dreams: the smell of burning wood, the sound of tremendously heavy footsteps, and always....the screaming.....

The dreams, praise to Eluned, are coming less and less frequently to me but that, of course, does nothing to lessen the pain in my heart of the past that I have lived. As you shall see:

I was born into a kind and loving home. My mother, Leannia, was a midwife. She possessed a caring nature, wanting to help all those that she could. My mother was not extravagant nor would she ever win a beauty contest; but behind her plain and smiling countenance was a woman of great love and compassion, traits that I came to value over wealth and vanity.

My father, Banson, a jovial sort of man, was the village's tanner. I remember going to his shop as a youth and wrinkling my nose at the array of skins and furs strewn about the area. Even at that young age, killing creatures seemed an abomination to me. I would say so to my father and he would always keep his patience with me, telling me he understood my feelings and that, if he could, he would try another business; but none other was as lucrative in the village and, besides, it was all he knew. I never questioned that my father had a good and kind heart. As I would say to myself as a child, "Well, at least he's not the one doing the killing."

By the time I reached 19, I had been assisting my mother for several years. I also helped to take care of my three younger siblings: my brother Keronius and my sisters Kerlyn and Kevria. Life felt good to me. I was contributing to the village with my mother's business and loved all in my family deeply, with that love being returned to me without question.

However, in the month of my 19th birthday, events were to unfold that would change my destiny forever.....

It started as a day like any other, really. My father left in the morning, heading to the shop with his customary wave and tip of his hat, blowing kisses to my sisters who returned the gesture. My mother did not have a birth to attend to at the time so she and I took care of the younger ones, my mother teaching them from the same books her mother had taught her from and I entertaining them with music from my whistle and a bit of a rather silly dance.

The first sign that something was wrong was barely noticed; indeed, it would have gone unnoticed in our home except for my youngest sister, Kevria, asking me to stop and have a listen to the outdoors. None of us noticed anything until it came to me..."The birds have stopped their singing", I said. Within a matter of moments, the most thunderous sound I had ever heard came crashing about my eardrums, painful and intense. I grabbed Kevria away from the window and my mother yelled, her voice thin and reedy against the clamor outside, that we were to get down into the cellar at once.

We ushered the younger ones down into the earthen-walled room, my mother doing her best to calm their frightened crying. I went back upstairs to see if I could discern just exactly what was happening. I looked out the window and it was then that my heart turned to lead and sank to my stomach. Gorbesh. Monstrous Gorbesh. I couldn't take my eyes away....couldn't move a muscle. Thoughts of my father came to me and slapped me to my senses. With the others apparently safe in the cellar, I ventured outdoors, hoping to make my way to my father's shop. I needn't have tried. I could see him in the distance, already running toward home, running to his beloved family to save us from the impending doom. As I stood outside our door, I saw the unthinkable.....my father was slain before my eyes; but not before he was able to look up and see me, his eyes trying to focus. He then lay still. I tell myself that he was able to see his home and that, in some way, he took comfort from swift remembrances of his family.

I did not have time to mourn my father for as I stood there, a fireball landed on the thatched roof of our home, instantly rendering it an inferno. With a prayer for my father on my lips, I ran inside and into the cellar. The younger ones had stopped crying but were, instead, strangely quiet.....as though they sensed that any struggle would be for naught. My mother's eyes were anguished as she asked me what was going on, what did I see, was there news of my father, oh, Kerrian, what are we to do? My mind was spinning...wanting to comfort my mother, rouse my siblings, and somehow make my father well again. As my thoughts whirled with possibilities of what to do it dawned on me that the cellar would be no haven but rather a trap. My mother understood my thoughts and we gathered up the young ones and headed back upstairs.

The heat was intense, much of the roof having fallen to the floor of our home. Our lovely home, now being reduced to nothing more than kindling. My heart begged to be given its due, to be able to ache and mourn for my losses but my mind wouldn't allow it. No time, not now......

We got outside and the terrified screams of friends and neighbors surrounded us. Telling my mother I would be right back, I jumped behind the woodpile at the side of the house to grab the axe, the only instrument I could think of to be used as a weapon. As I dislodged the axe, the single most horrifying sound I had ever heard came to my ears.....my mother was screaming. As I jumped over the woodpile, I tripped, falling flat on my stomach with the wind knocked out of me. I raised my head and it was then....then that I saw the attackers slay my family before my very eyes. They killed the littlest first, our beloved Kevria who dreamed of being a ranger with her love of the outdoors, delighting in the screams of my mother who begged and begged for mercy. "Please! No! Kill me if you must but spare my children! Nooooo!" Systematically, they killed my family, one by one....my mother was last to die, having been forced to watch three of her children murdered.

I couldn't shut my eyes. My mind couldn't rationalize what was happening, it seemed to be a horrible nightmare. It had to be, didn't it? This just couldn't be happening. I came to my senses and found tears streaming down my face and blood coming from arm. It had come down on the axe when I'd fallen. This was no dream, to be sure. I pulled myself to my knees, an action that drew the attention of the attackers. They snarled and came for me. With a rush of fear I leapt to my feet and ran, skirting the woodpile, and running toward the outlying woods, never looking back....knowing that if I did I would find them at my heels......

Having first arrived at Crossing, I joined the Cleric Guild...thoughts of my father turned me to it. I wanted to raise from the dead those that had been unjustly murdered. It wasn't long, though, before I learned more of the Empath Guild and forsook the Clerics to join the Empaths in their noble efforts to keep the wounded from dying. I realized my life would be more fulfilling keeping people from dying rather than trying to help once they had already perished. With each touch of a patient, my mother's caring and compassion flows through me, keeping her spirit alive. With each giggle I make, my father's sense of humor and jovial ways allow him to be beside me once more.

I mourn for my family every day that I breathe. It is my family in Elanthia that allows me to continue on and I love them dearly.

Praise Eluned.