Memory Box
Before Rohan's ethereal form stretched the world of Gaia, a realm where time and space melded into a surreal dreamscape. As the Last Dragon Mage, he stood at the precipice of his earliest memories, many of which still haunted him with their poignant echoes.
Is this... My life?
These memories, tangled and complex, were the threads that wove the fabric of his identity, shaping his destiny.
In his memories, Rohan saw a grand castle where nobles lived lavishly. He was just a young child with fiery hair and bright eyes. His mother, Anne, worked as a maid there, while his father, Viscount Aldric, owned the place.
Anne faced gossip and disapproval from other servants because of their affair, but she bore it with dignity. She carried the weight of their scandalous love and the son it produced, enduring the judgment of those around her.
He watched the scene of his mother crying out for mercy as the viscountess yelled at her and nearly pulled out all the hair out of Anne's head.
I didn't know that happened...
Rohan remembered the sacrifices she made to ensure he had enough to eat, the unwavering love of a mother who refused to let her son bear the sins of his birth.
The mist of memories shifted, and Rohan was transported to a dimly lit room within the basement of the castle. He remembered it as the place he was raised in. It was cold, damp, and barely had any fresh air and light. There, he watched helplessly as his little sister, Eliza, writhed in pain. It was polio that had taken her, a cruel illness that knew no nobility or station.
After the viscountess found out, she had ordered Eliza's body to be burned on the spot to stop the spread of the illness. Rohan watched as his sister's corpse was set ablaze like it was as simple as the culling of an animal. Rohan thought:
I'll murder that bitch...
Rohan's heart ached as he remembered the small, fragile form of his sister, her once-playful laughter silenced by the relentless grip of the disease. The tragedy was senseless, and he felt the weight of his powerlessness as she slipped away, her innocence stolen and her corpse desecrated.
We were kicked out when I was just a helpless kid...
The mists of memory swirled once more, and Rohan stood in a shadowy alley, ragged and alone. But it was there that Professor Varian, the old man with a heart full of compassion, held a hand out for Rohan. He had been drawn to the young boy's innate magical potential, and beneath his care, Rohan found shelter and an opportunity for a different life.
It was in the professor's study that the secrets of magic, hidden deep within ancient tomes, were revealed. Rohan's eyes sparkled with the excitement of a young mage discovering his true potential.
Images flooded Rohan's mind—lessons in the arcane arts, the ancient scrolls and dusty tomes that had become his companions. Professor Varian patiently guided him through the intricacies of spells and incantations, nurturing the young mage's burgeoning talents.
Rohan's bond with Varian grew stronger with each passing day, as did his understanding of the mystical world of dragons. The old professor became not only a mentor but a friend who saw the potential within the boy.
The memory shifted once more, and Rohan stood beside Professor Varian's bed. The old man, who had become a pillar of strength and wisdom, had passed away in his sleep. His face was etched with the serenity of a life well-lived.
His only regret was that he wasn't able to find his missing wife...
Rohan's heart ached with the loss of his mentor and friend. He vowed to carry on Varian's legacy, to honor the knowledge and wisdom the professor had shared with him.
It was with Varian's guidance and the magic he had honed, that made Rohan decide to do his part in bettering the world. So, Rohan ventured out into the world. His reputation as a mage of exceptional skill and power spread far and wide.
He had come a long way from the shadows of his past, rising above the stigma of his birth to become a force to be reckoned with. Rohan's motivation simply refused to be broken.
The final memory unfolded—the day he was recruited to represent his kingdom in the battle against the Demon Lord. He stood among a gathering of heroes, each chosen for their unique abilities. Rohan remembered the solemn oaths sworn, the weight of the responsibility placed upon his shoulders, and the burning desire within him to protect the land that had given him a second chance at life.
As the memories faded and the mist began to recede, Rohan was left with a profound sense of the journey he had traveled, the trials he had endured, and the burning desire for answers and revenge.
It was these memories, both painful and empowering, that fueled his determination to uncover the truth behind his death and make those who had wronged him pay for their deeds.
They will pay. I'll make them pay dearly.