Silus' Story

[Atrium]

OOC: I am finally telling the story of my character Silus. Obviously, his is where I got my UserID. I thought his story would be one worth telling. This is all I have so far, however, but please enjoy.

 

Chapter One

 

Why…that looks just like my old necklace! But where did he find it? My old necklace was found by a man. I reach out to take it from him. As he raises his hand to give it to me the black sleeve of his robe slides down his forearm, revealing his pale hand. Be careful not to loose it again, he tells me. I take the necklace from him and open the locket. I see...my picture. The picture is me when I was younger…but it…it won’t stay that way. As I watch my picture changes. It ages. I see a transition from me as a young woman to me as I am now. But it doesn’t stop…My face! It’s…decaying! I close the locket and look at the man in the black robes. He begins to laugh. It starts as a small chuckle and turns into an evil cackle. Simultaneously, silver wings pop out of his back. He stops laughing abruptly and flies upward into the sky like an arrow. I am on my knees now. I shudder and, from fear, begin to cry. But my cries sound like that of a child…of an infant…

 

Mother sat up directly. A silent tear ran down her cheek as she glimpsed about the darkness of her room. She heard crying. Crying like that of an infant. She threw on her robes and ran out into the hallway. One of “her children” was in trouble. The only problem was, running an orphanage with about fifty children made it hard to find out just who it was. She ran down hallway after hallway to the infant quarters, but the sound was in another direction. She quieted down as she passed them but took off again when out of range. The padding of her bare feet and calls to “her children” only helped to wake them up. Many of them walked out of their rooms rubbing their eyes and watching her in confusion. The older ones tried to catch up with her after hearing the sound.

The attendants came out of their rooms as she passed by, pulling their robes on and stifling yawns as they too heard the cries. Mother, as the children called her, ran an orphanage in a large city on the continent Andalusia. Now in her forties, she felt old, but would not admit that it was just in her head. The attendants affectionately accused her of being afraid of getting old. She never exactly denied it. Right now, however, age was a trivial thing; one of “her children” was crying somewhere.

One of the attendants (a young elven maid they called Rose because they could not pronounce her real name) caught up to her, her auburn hair flowing behind her as she ran like a cape. She made no noise as she ran along side Mother, except that of her voice.

“Who is it?” she asked in the common tongue.

“I’m not sure yet, but it sounds like it’s coming from downstairs.”

The crying was rather shrill; every bone in Mother’s body told her there was trouble. She turned her direction to the steps. She took the steps down, almost jumping the last two. The sound got louder as she reached the floor. She followed it and found that it led toward the front door. Mother skidded to a halt and unlocked the door. She found a small cradle on the porch with a baby inside, promptly crying its lungs out. Rose, as well as a human attendant came beside her to have a look.

Mother bent down and carefully lifted the child out of its crib. She held in gently and instructed the human attendant to bring in the cradle after them. As she turned around to reenter her orphanage, she was greeted by almost every curious face the building held. Many of the children pushed past each other, others stood on tip toe, all trying to see the thing that woke them all up. Mother rocked the child from side to side, calming it quite considerably.

She spoke softly. “Return to your rooms please, things will be handled tomorrow.”

There were some groans from the crowd and many took awhile, but eventually Mother, Rose, and the other assistant were left alone in the foyer. Still rocking and cooing, Mother carried the child up to her room while the others followed silently.

They entered the room and Rose lit a candle on the wall. The human placed the cradle next to Mother’s bed.

“He needs something to eat I’m sure,” Mother said. The attendant bowed her head and left the room. Mother laid the child back in its bed and moved it to the reading table. Together, she and Rose leaned over the child. The exchanged glances a few times while the child stared up at them just as curiously.

“Well, he’s a human,” Rose exclaimed. “I wonder who could have left him.”

“Well, I assume it was his parents,” Mother replied.

“You’re probably right,” Rose admitted. “Does he have any identification?”

“No,” Mother said, searching his bedding. “There is nothing here about him.”

“Well, we can certainly keep him, I mean, there is room.”

“Of course there’s room,” Mother replied. “He’ll have to go to the infant’s quarters, of course. And we’ll have to name him.”

“Look there,” Rose spoke up. “At his eyes.”

Mother moved the candle a bit closer. “Oh, they seem to be different colors.”

“The right is blue, the left is brown,” Rose observed.

“Interesting…” Mother pondered it. “Well, we’ll just have to wait for him to grow a bit before we’ll know what it means.”

“Shall I take him to the nursery?” Rose asked.

The attendant reentered the room with a bottle and handed it to Mother, who sat in the chair by the table and took the child in her arms.

“Oh, no, we’ll leave him here. The poor dear has had quite a scare; I think he should stay with me this night.”

“Very well then. He’ll need a name, you know,” Rose stated.

“Yes, he will, won’t he?” Mother replied, both of them looking at the child.

“I shall leave that duty to you,” Rose bowed curtly. “And return to you tomorrow.”

“Sleep well, Rose,” Mother said.

Rose left the room and closed the door softly. Mother turned to the baby and began to feed him. His cries subsided almost instantly as he became preoccupied with his food.

“Maybe when you learn to speak, you might remember this night. Then you can tell me who left you here,” Mother said to him.

She knew it was wishful thinking, but it was the only way she would ever know, unless she went to the Seers, but she had a feeling that would be a bothersome request.

“Well, I definitely can’t put you in the nursery without a name. Though, with your eyes, you would be easily recognized. I believe I will call you…Silus. How about it? Silus?”

The confused and highly stressed out baby closed his eyes and immersed himself in his bottle.