Tales from Izlia

It All Began Here (Arc 1 Part 1)

Back around, say, 10 years ago, the kingdom of Azland was filled with joy, love, and laughter. Until one fateful day, when tears and blood saturated a lone hospital cot. The Queen, Sonris' faithful wife, whom he loved more than his many riches, yes, Halete, his prized possession, his beloved wife, had gotten pregnant, it was a baby boy, who was to be the next ruling king after Sonris was gone, the pregnancy went well, but when she went into labor, something wasn't right, there was just too much blood, the baby was fine, but Halete... She lay in a cot, laboring out her final breathy "I love yous" and "farewells", while the newborn baby cried for his mother in the room over. Sonris cried for the first time he could remember as he held the cold, limp hand of his wife and cursed all the gods he knew by name, sobs made him gasp for air as Karis, one of the country's best clerics, comforted him gently holding his newborn son in her arms.

"Sonris, I'm so, so sorry." Karis choked out, crying herself, making no effort to keep the flowing tears off her cheeks.

"I am too," Sonris croaked weakly. "May I see my son?" he asked hoarsely, glancing at the tiny bundle in her arms.

"Absolutely, your majesty." Karis murmured gently handing him his son.

"I-oh.." the baby looked striking similar to Halete. Teardrops stained the baby's blanket as the king silently remembered Halete and gave her still body a loving glance.

"So, what's his name?" Karis asked gingerly touching Sonris' shoulder as he knelt by the cot and wept with his newborn child in his arms.

Sonris was silent for a few seconds and finally spoke up. "His name is Hawthorne, she...'' his voice broke, he composed himself again "She always loved that name"

Karis cleared her throat in the silence. "Well, that's a great name, Your Majesty." she said putting a hand on Sonris' shoulder reassuringly.

"Sonris is absolutely fine, my dear, there's no need for formality in a time like this" he said gently, looking down lovingly at Hawthorne, his new son, the final remembrance of Halete he would have.

But of course, the past is the past for a reason isn't it? No use dwelling there for too long, the past makes us grieve for the old in life. So in the following 10 years, a wizard, Valistor became stronger and very close to old Sonris, who was grieving Halete during the time. Valistor grew so close to Sonris, a tower was built near the Citadel to keep him close to Sonris, should anything bad happen to him.

Hawthorne fared well, grew strong and was very close with Karis and her own daughter, Zora, who nearly became closer to him than his own father, whom he loved very dearly. Karis always told Hawthorne the best stories about his mother, never her death, just the happy stories, to ease some of the the guilt from his birth, killing Halete.

Although, his father, who had, in his grief, become very gaunt and thin, a mere shadow of himself. Hawthorne could barely remember his father ever smiling, just frowning and with glistening eyes, his father was far too proud to cry in front of his son. this made relations between the father and his son tense.

Azland's villagers were a bit shaken up by their beloved queen, Halete's death. Many wives and elders expressed their grief to Sonris, and welcomed Hawthorne for several months after the incident.

After 10 years passed, the villagers settled back into their routines. The bards sang of the beloved, deceased adventurers and stories of their grand adventures, men drank and gambled away their sorrows in the various inns, all the while, thieves  lightened a few purses while they still could. The land was at peace again.

Well, until our story's fateful heroes found each other.

Off the old beaten path, a beautiful young woman with a lute strapped to her back walked to an old friend's house until she saw out of the corner of her eye, a small adolescent boy crouching in the brush. The boy looked like he hadn't seen a decent meal in weeks.