Return to Caldera
Calitris is a shifter displaced from her land and peoples. She felt the persecution of the humans of Halgard first hand, and did what she could to stop it, calling on the primal forms of nature as a confirmed druid. Eventually she fled Halgard on the ship, Stormseye.
A meeting with mother before leaving Halgard
I find myself grasping to avoid cliches. What joy must there be, when one can rightfully claim that none other has put things in such a manner. It shan’t be this day, and it shan’t be pleasure of mine. So then let me choose where to begin, for to come to the end, as all things surely must, they need an origin. For now I shall relate, but a mere speck of time and of the life of but one soul, in this dreadful tale.
This is a thread in my story.
To some I am known as Calitris.
We all knew an exodus would come. But how we dreamed, how we fought, how we failed. If ever my heart felt so sick, my soul so lost and utterly ruined, it was then. As it is now. And so vexing are these emotions, I don’t know in which moment I’m to feel anger. Or when is it time to express my regrets. Should I have thanks to show? I should imagine I’m no different than a well run dry. Hollow, empty, excepting something dark and sinister awaiting to spring forth from its very bowels. Biding its time, seeking to strike when guards have lain down their arms. Its eating away at me as a thousand drops of water wears the hardest of rock. Some days I’m not the master of this soul, but a vessel for darkness to seep.
“I sense hatred I cannot control” I volunteered with such venom in my tone as I’ve not known before.
“My dearest of creatures” purred my mother, “you’ve learnt far faster than I would have cared that this world is not an easy one”. A scowl seemed permanently etched upon her features. The heavy rasping of her purr caused her chest to tremble in agony. Already the blood was making its methodical, inevitable way outwards from the bandages that vainly attempted to keep it in. I sat with my legs crossed and stared blankly.
“You need not let this hatred you speak of blind your path”.
“Why will you not listen mother? This land is forsaken, it’s spirit has been crushed. It holds nothing for us any more”. Tears welled in my eyes, sending glistening trails earthbound.
“You’re mistaken Cal. This land is the cradle of our dead. The heart of our people that are dying. We are part of it as it is part of us. Yes, I see you have not much love left, of this land or of yourself”.
“Come with us mother, please leave this sorrow behind. Father is dead. He died for this land and what has it brought us? We are hunted down wherever we hide, at every moment of happiness they come again. They bring their men and they claim our lands yet further and further. I won’t stay to endure what will break my mind and soul. You must reconsider and travel to safer shores”.
For a while mother was silent, half leaning and half seated against a large moss covered stone. My eyes settled upon a small blur, situated to the left of her head. I strained my eyes until the shapes disentangled themselves and my focus saw a wasp and a spider in a mortal duel. Perhaps years ago this embodiment of natural laws, the struggle for life and death would have intrigued me. However, with such death surrounding my people it made me laugh with irony. Here was I watching two beings vie for a chance of continued life, with only a small passing of thought as to who may win. Was it not just a part of living? Should I take a personal interest in which lived and which died? What end was there in a winged victory, surely no better than an eight legged one. Who I wondered sat above us, watching and ordering death and misery. What of them? Did they care that their own people died alongside ours? Did any amount of blood appease their greedy lives? Those with the power, who are utterly corrupted and use this to spread a plague of hatred. A hatred that tore at my sense of being.