Sanctuary: Part I
Time has drifted like a leave in a breeze. I have been in The Cathedral of Virhalen my new home for God knows how long. The music of the streets has changed so dramatically; however, I dare not tread outside these walls. As long as I have been here, I have never forgotten how I arrived.
It was the 6th month and 10th day of the year of our Lord 1118. The night was pitch and I had been running from the local villagers and travelers for what seemed to be hours. Their chase was unrelenting and unforgiving even though I did nothing wrong. I was being pursued by villagers who blamed me for their faults and indiscretions and it had been like this for years. Ever since I entered this world my mother and I were cast out by the locals.
It was in the 1100 Anno Domini when I was born out of wedlock. My father left for the war and promised my mother he would marry her and have a lovely farm outside of the village we lived. The Cathedral was just being built at this time. When he left for the war my mother was always impregnated by his seed. She was a chambermaid for one of the Lords of the Land. He knew my father was going off to war and fancied my mother. My mother was in love with my man who was to be my father and deny his advances. He grew furious with her but never gave up. He later married another but he stilled approached my mother many times each ending with the same response.
His wife could not receive his seed and she was jealous of the attention he gave my mother. Then, finally when I was born, they cast my mother and I out of their home saying that she was a witch who was impregnated by the dark ones and cursed with a half-breed and that is why they could bare no children. We were sent into the village streets cursed by the Lords beliefs and eventually once the village saw me, they believed them. I was born with red skin that flaked on my forearms and shoulders. The villagers stated that it was the scales of a demon that ran in my blood. The pain was unbearable my mother would sooth it with bandages that she soaked in the stream that ran through the forest outside the village. She eventually started to build us a small hut near the stream.
My mother did her best to provide us with food and clothing. She worked part time as a launder maid in the village for a low wage but it was enough to get by for the forest provided us with much of the things we needed to live anyway. She learned to hunt, farm, and alchemy to create medicines and oils in order to live. But one day she returned home in tears and sadness. The Cathedral was finished and had a post sign on the outside of it. This is where my mother found out that my father had died during the war. In her mind there was no hope for us anymore and her health started to change for the worse. She new she was becoming ill and she still loved me with her whole being so for the last year of her life she taught me to hunt, fish, farm, and read and write. She also taught me some of the alchemical techniques she used to create her tonics, oils, and teas so I could survive without her. On her death bed she told me how much she loved me and all about how great my father was and why we were cast from the village and said, “I know you are a good person. Your love and compassion have not been corrupted by this world. Keep true to that but hide this,” my mother continued as she unwrapped my arms, “the people of the village will call you a demon if they see your skin. They are scared of everything they do not understand.” She took one final breath and said, “I love you.” She then closed her eyes as she passed. I became heartbroken and shattered as I mourned for her. The day I burned her I remembered her words and what lead us to this point. My anger enraged but I did not want to betray her.
scarefirsttalklater 