Dander

Fire, burning, death, screams, fear, mother, Nalia, hate. Dander woke up with a start, his heart racing a million miles an hour. He quickly sat up but immediately regretted doing so, as pain raced through his entire body. He fell back on the bed, thrashing and screaming. Lights danced before his eyes, and he heard shouting from nearby. It was incoherent but the voices sounded urgent.

A door slammed open, and blotchy shapes moved above him. A few words were said, and then without warning even greater pain raced through his chin. He then felt a cool thick liquid enter his mouth and reflexively, Dander swallowed. The shapes began murmuring, and shifting back and forth, restlessly. But all that didn't matter now, as he felt o'so very sleepy. As his eyes began to fall shut he heard as though from far away, the laughter and giggles of a girl now gone.

The dream he dreamt was less a nightly fantasy and more of a memory resurging from the depths where he had hidden it. The snow was falling that day, and the streets were crowded by villagers and merchants. He had a big stupid grin on his face as his mother walked up to him, an apple in each hand. She smiled and handed them to him, "Go on, enjoy them with," she trailed off, "Chass's daughter." Dander pouted, "She's called Nalia, mother!" and ran off, the snow crunching under his little eight-year-old feet.

It took him some time to find Nalia, and when he did, it was quite obvious why. She had found a nice secluded spot, at the top of the hill overlooking the village. He was out of breath when he finally reached her, sweat dripping down his face. She looked at him and grinned, "What're you gawking at, never seen such a beauty in your life?" Dander rolled his eyes and sat down, but it was then that he noticed the bloodstains on the girl's hands. He frowned and leaned closer to see what she had in front of her, but when he saw it he nearly puked. A dead field mouse, but it hadn't just frozen to death or something, it's head had been ripped off. He glanced up at Nalia, who was still staring off into the distance, her clear blue eyes full of life and wonder.

"Tell me, why is it bad to kill?" Nalia asked, her eyes still fixed on the horizon. Dander glanced back down at the dead mouse before answering, "I think," he paused, and looked up, "I think it's because the gods see us killing each other as a bad thing."Nalia turned to him, "Then why can we murder animals with impunity?" Dander sighed and glanced back down to her bloody hands, "Well from what Septon Sulvan told me it's because we were created in the god's image."

When his eyes turned back up to meet Nalia's, he screamed. Her face had meted off only to show the cold hard bone underneath. And in a chilling husky voice, it spoke. "Wake up!"

Groaning, Dander opened his eyes, he was still in the same room as before, a small stone chamber with only a small window for light. He tried to sit up but again his whole body hurt, this time though it wasn't as painful and felt more like had been beaten with clubs than stabbed by needles. "Hello?" he called out but his throat was dry, causing the sound to come out as little more than a whisper.

"Hello?" he cried out, this time louder, even though it hurt his throat. A moment later a man wearing long grey robes entered he was carrying a tray laden with small flasks and vials. "You're awake, good." the man said, smiling at him kindly. "Lord Sumner was worried that you might not wake at all," he said, setting the tray down on the table. "Lord Sumner?" Dander wheezed out. The man nodded, "Lord Sumner Crakehall." He then took a cup from the tray and placed it to Dander's mouth, "Drink." Weakened and confused as he was, Dander didn't even think of questioning what was in the cup and quickly chugged it all.

The man smiled and placing it back down, took a small flask filled with some yellow cream. "You better bite down on something boy, this might hurt a bit." Nodding, Dander looked around and only then did he notice the state his body was in, red and blotchy tight at some places and loose at others, he had seen these scars before, on Varn, burns. But unlike Varn, he had them all over his body. "What the hell?" he said weakly before falling unconscious.