The journey was not long from the tavern, Drake had decided to leave early in the morning without telling his friend he had left. There was no doubt that Elios would've wanted to come with him, and Drake preferred to find this place by himself. The whole journey was an emotional one, whereby the Assassin placed wards across his mind, building defensive barriers and stubbing away at the nerves that exposed themselves. He needed to be dead, feel dead and see that through to the end.
He rounded over a small hill, where small tufts of grass pushed through sandy soil. The air was wish in salt and moisture thanks to the ocean that lay before him like a large, blue sheet. Sea gulls broke chimed with the crashing sounds of the waves, creating a chorus of nautical music. Drake stood upon the hill, his amber eyes narrowing as he took in the sight. He had been to this place once or twice before, there was always something in his memory nagging at him, telling him that this place was wrong, that something had happened here. He looked left and right. Nothing stood out besides a small homestead nestled within some of the mounds of sand. It looked in disrepair, a former vegetable garden that surrounded it was overgrown with weeds.
His feet took over, his mind trying to calculate why this place was so special. He received the building in a matter of minutes, unaware that he had sped up his pace with each meter gained. Before him was a rotten door, barely held upon iron wrought hinges. The Assassin extracted a dagger and gently pushed open the door. The wood creaked and then fell to the floor in a clang, the hinges coming free from the rotten wood. Light poured inside, as the windows had been blackened by grime. Vines, plants and wild animals had made this place their home, for no persons lived here anymore.
Judging by what he saw, the people of this homestead had not moved out. It looked as if they just disappeared. A table stood near a stove, with pans still sitting upon the hob. The table itself had a bowl of dust, where Drake assumed fruit once filled its shape. Discoloured pictures lined the walls, but were too badly damaged to make out. The Assassin moved further into the room, the floorboards screaming under his weight. This couldn't be the right place?
Drake found himself moving from the kitchen area to a small room with two beds. Make shift toys lay dotted around the floor, a small sword of wood and a model ship. The Hylian opened a draw to see clothes, and a few pieces of paper. Removing the paper, he looked at what it contained. A child's drawing of four people - two were adults, two were children. Each held hands. The backdrop was the Great Bay, Drake assumed, with a crude drawing of a ship. What striked Drake the most were the images of the people. They had pointed ears, as Hylians did. But Hylians were a rare sight this far south in Termina. More importantly, one of the children had white hair, much like Drake's when he was younger.
"This must be coincidence." Drake attempted to force his mind into rationalizing a different outtake. Folding up the drawing, he placed it into a pouch upon his belt and continued to the next room. This room was larger, with a single double bed. The scents of wildflowers filled the air, though the Assassin had the feeling that such a scent would've been common even if no plants had overgrown into the house. He searched through the drawers and cupboards but found nothing. He turned for the door, when his foot fell through a gap in the floor.
"What the..." He extracted his foot from the rotten floor. Beneath his feet, and the chips of decaying wood was a black, squarish object. Drake bent down and picked it up. The object was a book, golden letters were engraved upon the cover, a name that meant nothing to him. Flicking through the pages he noted the cursive writing of someone's life. He stopped at one page and read it.
"Alas, the day I feared had come. The bite had taken its toll upon my beautiful wife, the doctors were unable to treat her of the poison. She slipped away in the dead of night, I believe she held on till then as to not scare the children. I felt my heart break upon that final breath of hers, a break that could never be filled. What would young Kane and Marik do without a Mother? What would I do without a wife..."
Drake stopped reading at that point. If everything was true to this point, and the letter that had been written to him, was also the woman who lived here, then his Mother was truly dead. Something rippled within, something that Drake found hard to describe. He felt.... disappointed, or more... underwhelmed. By the same token, if his mother was really this person, then he had brothers. Kane and Marik. Were they still alive?
Flicking to the front of the book, Drake attempted to find more answers.
"We were too young to consider such a thing. Not yet married, our parents would condemn us. But she gave birth to our child and upon the same day gave him up. I wanted to keep the babe, so did she... but there was nothing we could do. Our parents forced our son into exile. So we named him Drake, a name of blessing and curse. He would be as strong as a dragon, capable of fending for himself, but he will live in isolation, never knowing himself."
There was more to the passage, but the Assassin stopped. So it was true. His parents had lived in his place. He had been given up, and now he knew why. He didn't know whether to feel hatred towards his new found parents, or pity for the position they were in.
"I need a drink..." He murmured. Keeping the journal, Drake stepped outside the house. Creating a torch out of a branch and dry twine, he began to light patches of the house... burning the memories of his former life to the ground. More so, this place was nothing but ill feeling, no positive memory lingered here. Turning his back to the blaze, he began to walk towards the Falls once more, heart feeling heavier than he imagined.
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Posted 30 December 2011 - 06:02 PM
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