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~ From the Misty Depths ~

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Chuk

Chuk

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- -- My Purpose -- -

For decades I served my master, following him in both war and peace; I've always been by his side. I was his servant since I was only twelve, given to the royal family as a gift, both for me and the newborn prince; he'd always have someone to watch him, and I'd have a better life than any I could ever earn as a serf on my family's farm.

My Prince had no relatives besides his parents, and so I acted as an uncle, entertaining and playing with him as his nurse allowed me. Quickly my relationship grew, until by the time he was ten, my life centered on him and we were as brothers, though I was twenty-two. I learned to wield a sword then, training at his side through that as well as studies. There, I learned to rule a nation as well as he, so when he became king, I was his only advisor. Yet that was not my only task.

It was often that our kingdom was at war, and I always rode at his side, watching his sword during travel, guarding his life in battle. He trusted me and I him. I held him up when he fell; I supported him; I loved him. I became his foundation, building him high until he blocked out all else; he was all I was.

Now, he's dead. Fallen. An arrow struck him in battle, calling him home. On that bloody field my life collapsed with his, for I do not know one without him. I was wounded, yet I paid it no mind, occupied in my grief, and both crippled me.

Unwanted by his successor, I was thrown from the castle into I life I do not know, a life for which I am too old, too derelict. There is nothing for me now, and so now I find myself on a bluff above the sea, staring into its deep green waters from above.

Mournfully a gull cries, its call breaking through the crashing of the waves that call me home. The skies are gray, fittingly dismal, and I am thankful for that for it makes this easier. The gull calls again, urging me on and so I step and fall to the pounding sea.

For what is the foundation that lacks its tower?

26-Nov-2008 05:52:56 - Last edited on 21-Jun-2013 10:38:55 by Chuk

Chuk

Chuk

Posts: 14,177 Opal Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Since time immemorial, Santa has been a holiday icon for millions of children across the world; to them, he is divine. In the lands of Gielinor, it is no different. Each Christmas, from Al Kharid to Edgeville, Varrock to Ardougne, small children drift to sleep dreaming of the gifts that always follow Santa's coming. And then, a few years on, generally as the next Holiday season approaches, a friend -- who heard it from his older brother or perhaps another friend -- speaks the fateful, life-changing words: "Santa's not real. It's your parents that leave the presents, not Santa."

Inevitably, a state of tearful denial follows, but when that is no more, the child's world comes crashing down, pulling innocence in its wake. And though that child comes to reconcile that knowledge, that truth, his trust is forever shaken by the lie of Santa.

- -- - -- - -- - -- - -- -

A heavy frost strangled everything in its crushing, icy fist. Trees appeared as ghosts and houses as giant drifts. In front of one such house, the breath of a small knot of people – a small child and his parents – clouded the air in frozen mist. Their forms, bundled against the biting weather, cast long shadows from the warm candle-light that spilled from an open door in front of them. They turned from the inviting portal, and stepped down to the street, waving over their shoulders.

"Merry Christmas!" someone hollered, and the light suddenly vanished.

The father held a lantern, its flickering light illuminating just enough of the icy ground to keep him and his family from falling. Next to him, his wife, wrapping her child's hand in her own, lifted her skirts out of the frost with the other. Motioning them on, he led them carefully down the icy way.

"What will Santa bring me tomorrow morning, mommy?" the child queried.

"I don't know, Sperin, but leave him your list and some cookies, and I'm he'll bring you some toys, just like always."

12-Dec-2008 04:24:32 - Last edited on 21-Jun-2013 10:39:04 by Chuk

Chuk

Chuk

Posts: 14,177 Opal Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
As she spoke, the family turned onto a larger avenue, one with grand houses bordering both sides. Just past the corner, in the shadow of a wilted tree, a young beggar crouched in the snow, his nose and ears read and lips blue. Rags that might have once been the sleeves of his tattered shirt wrapped his feet.

"Spare a coin, sir? For my*"

"Silence! Your kind doesn't belong in our part of town. Go back to your alley, wretch," Sperin's father spat over the child's words, kicking snow into his face. The child flinched and scrambled away, shouting over his shoulder, "Santa's not real! Don't believe the lie!"

"That spiteful…he heard our conversation!" Sperin's mother seethed. Reining her temper, she turned to comfort her own son. "Don't listen to him, sweetie; he's just being mean. The homeless are like that – not like us."

Sperin didn't respond, but only stared into her face with liquid, doubting eyes. Unable to bear the look, the question contained within, she turned away, patting him on the shoulder before again taking his hand and following her husband. Sperin remained silent for the short journey home, his eyes downcast, seeing only the white powder beneath his feet, and the bloody footprints that stained the beggar child's path.

Soon they reached home, a building nearly large enough to be called a mansion. Going in, Sperin stood silent, doubt now visible in the light of indoor lamps etching his face while his mother tenderly removed his coat. His father quickly departed into the kitchen, passing the family butler on his way to tend the glowing embers of the fire. Sperin still stood silent, waiting for his mother as she removed her own coat and scarf.

"I think it's bedtime for you, sweetie," she said. "You're tired, and if you sleep, Santa will come sooner."

12-Dec-2008 04:25:05 - Last edited on 21-Jun-2013 10:39:18 by Chuk

Chuk

Chuk

Posts: 14,177 Opal Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Sperin simply nodded and allowed his mother to lead him up the carpeted stairs, passing elegantly carved mahogany railings and beautiful paintings. A crystal chandelier hung above, startlingly beautiful though its candles remained unlit. Used to the expensive trappings, his mother took him to his room, dressed him in his pajamas, and began to tuck him in before he finally spoke.

"Mother, does Santa visit every child like he's supposed to?"

"Why of course! Why would you ask?"

"Wouldn't he give the homeless kids clothes then, or food, or shelter?"

A pause of only a moment filled the room with tangible silence.

"Oh, ah…I…I wasn't thinking about them. They don't have trees, or cookies, so he doesn't visit them."

A single tear trickled down Sperin's face before he turned away from his mother, her hesitation giving her lie. She began to rub his back, but he burrowed farther under the covers, retreating from her touch.

"Oh, sweetie, I'm so sorry," she murmured, and realizing her child needed to be alone, extinguished the candle, and closed the door softly behind her as she left the room.

- -- - -- - -- - -- -

Before dawn, having never slept, Sperin rose, and clambered from his bed. Two hours had passed since he heard his mother go to bed, and deeming it safe, he dressed hurriedly, and rushed downstairs. It took only moments for him to wrap his scarf around his neck and his coat around his shoulders, and little longer to put every present on his sled. As soon as he was ready, he grabbed the cord, and pulled his first sleigh into the morning to the homeless district of Varrock.

- -- - -- - -- - -- -

12-Dec-2008 04:26:30 - Last edited on 21-Jun-2013 10:39:26 by Chuk

Chuk

Chuk

Posts: 14,177 Opal Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
His beard not yet white, nor his belly plump, Sperin climbed into a sleigh pulled by reindeer from the north. Though they couldn't fly, and he had no magic, he would do what he could, what he had done for the twenty years to the day since he had learned Santa didn't exist: he would take gifts to the homeless, gifts of chocolate and toys and clothing; he would go to those who had nothing, and give them comfort; he would become Santa for this one night.

He would become immortal.

~ Fin ~

12-Dec-2008 04:26:45 - Last edited on 21-Jun-2013 10:39:40 by Chuk

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