Of Pain, Numbness, and Burdens

Most people do not know what true pain is. Pain brought on by the deepest of betrayals. Of love turned to loathing. But, love is where our story begins.
 
Imagine if you will a man. A good man. An honorable man. Who became enamored with an elven warrior. He loved her from those first moments, and in him she found an acceptance she thought she had lost. They were happy together. Happier still when their love gave birth to a son. Their own little star in the night sky. But, life cares not for the wants and joys of those who live it. And in time things shall change.
 
The man suffered injury while on voyage. He returned alive, having earned retirement and pension. He could spend more time with the woman and son he loved so dearly. A decade passed...but his pain did not. If anything it grew worse as he aged. As grey began to creep into his hair and his limp became more pronounced he looked upon his perfect wife and son. And felt jealousy. For while he grew older, his wife remained untouched by the hands of time. As beautiful, strong, quick, and young as she looked the day he met her. He'd be dead for centuries before she began to wither as he was. And he soon realized he hated her for it. Why should she be so gifted. And so he sought to teach her the pain he felt.
 
She took the pain he sought to share. And she did not fight back. Never fought back. Not even when her son tried to stop his father one night. Not even when the father looked to the boy and saw another who would outlive him by centuries. And so the father sought to teach the boy his pain as well. For years the drunk would beat them. Humiliate them. Take out his rage and wants and pain on them. There is only so much pain a person can take. Especially of that sort. Eventually, I imagine, you begin to grow numb to it. You have to. The only way to survive is to go numb. To stop feeling. So that when you turn and take your father's belt from him and wrap it around his neck. You feel nothing as you kill the bastard who has wrought his wrath upon you for nearly a decade.
 
But, you have to be careful. For if you get too numb you lose the will to live. You begin to no longer see the point. And so you might start looking for duels. You might accept all challenges. Seek them out yourself. And you might one day swing your arm a little to wide. Might leave an opening for someone to take advantage of. To drive a blade into your heart. You might die in your son's arms and finally smile as peace takes you and the pain leaves. To avoid that fate you have to find ways to not feel numb. Maybe it's feeling ecstacy in the throws of passion. Perhaps the adrenaline you feel as you escape death as you cross blades with another.
 
Most people will never know that pain.
 
 
 
I carried a weight on my hip that I didn't understand. Truthfully I was not even aware of it. There are not words for it. I know I am broken. I know I am full of an anger that is not easily soothed. Of a pain that is not easily healed. Of a grime that never quite seems to wash away. I'm not sure if I regret relinquishing my mother's blade. But, I do not regret losing the weight from my hip. I do not regret meeting family who do not seem to wish to share their own pains with me. I'm not sure I'll ever have a home in Velthanor. But, if nothing else my grandfather and Lysanthir of the Telimbectar did not make me feel unwelcomed either. Perhaps I will return one day. And perhaps if I do I shall reclaim my mother's blade.
 
 
But, life is not about the past or the future. It is about the present. And for now I've work to do. I've prettied myself up with a new hat and new clothes. And I carry a new blade at my hip. Of my mother, but without the weight of the last one. And as I shed the weight on my hip, I will attempt to walk out of the shadow my father left me under.
 
I wonder if Tanifa giggles each time I stroke her scales. I wonder if I'm going to have to kill someone on the crew at this rate. Can't stand fucking liars. Either way for now....it's the pirate's life for me. Yo ho, yo ho.
 
 
*Beaumont Sunblade, First Mate of the Siren's Gale*