Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » Damian's Origins (Private RP)

Damian saw the spot bloom into existence, and was curious and slightly concerned about it. He wasn't sure if it was a splotch of ink from his father's pen hovering over the page or if it were perhaps something else. Another thing that concerned him was his father's long silence.

...Father?

Another splotch of ink marred the page, and then another, and another. Each mark spread lightly upon the page, one marring the previous word Damian had written.

It took Damian a few seconds, but he realized that his father was crying. Those weren't inkblots. Those were tear stains. Unbidden, a feeling of guilt rose up inside him. He was now even more unsure if he should have left Illustra. He could have merely ended his apprenticeship with Aiënon and been done with it. He sighed again, closing his eyes to hold back tears of his own. A pair of them escaped nonetheless. Before they could drop on the page, he wiped them off of his face.

Father...Father, please don't cry.

The splotches suddenly stopped the moment that Damian had started writing, and there was several more seconds that passed before more writing scripted itself onto the page.

...you can see that?

Another considerable pause.

You are capable of making your own decisions. You are grown and mature, and I cannot be more proud. And you have chosen your own path.

Forgive me that I still see you as a child.

I have missed you. That is all.

Damian closed his eyes and sighed again.

Yes, Father, I can in fact see that you're crying. I won't forgive you, because one can't forgive a fault that doesn't exist. And I miss you as well.

Damian paused for a few moments, thinking about his father's words. He wrote the following addendum:

However, I feel as if there is more to it than you merely missing me. I don't want to push you, but I must ask that you tell me what that is.

Yet again, the page remained blank for a significant length of time before the inkstrokes began once more, more slowly this time, pausing every so often.

Things are difficult, after your mother died...

I enjoyed the time I spent with you before your apprenticeship. I had been looking forward to the day when you might finish and return home.

There were many things I wanted to teach you, and I wanted to be able to tell you about our heritage myself.
I just wish we had more time together, my dear boy.

But your path is your own. I will not interfere. I know that you are capable of great things.

Damian read his father's words, how he really felt about him leaving Illustra. The surge of guilt came back with a vengeance, and tears started flowing down his cheeks.

A few droplets fell off of his face and hit the page like his father's had not a few minutes before. He had to almost physically force himself to not to weep uncontrollably. He instead sat there in silence, the only sound being the sound of water occasionally hitting parchment.

Shhh...

I can fret over you as much as I like, Damian, since you're my son.

But simply because you worry about me as well does not mean that you should deviate from where you are going.
You are safe and well, and you go with the Lotus' blessing and confidence. And that is all the assurance I need

I love you, my dear boy.

Damian wiped his eyes as he read his father's words. He could almost feel his father's hand on his shoulder, trying to calm and comfort him. He took a deep, shaky breath as he wiped his eyes for a second time before once again putting pen to parchment.

I...I love you too, Father.

After writing those words, one more tear hit the parchment. He wiped his eyes once more.

I must go momentarily, as I have other duties to take care of.
I would be overjoyed if you would write to me every so often, even if I do not respond right away.

I know that you will do what is right, and remember that I am proud of you.

There was yet another period of a lack of ink, before it continued.

And to answer your question from earlier: The grandest thing I have seen throughout the centuries...is you, my son. You are the first EtherFolk child to be born in centuries, and you are the symbol of our hope.

Take care, and I love you.

Happy Birthday, Damian.

Damian was about to write back when he saw his father write "Happy Birthday". The hand holding the quill stilled as he remembered that it was in fact his seventy-fifth birthday. He put down his quill into the fold of the book and left it there for a few moments. He supposed that due to everything that had been going on since he left Illustra, he had completely forgotten his birthday.

He took another shaky breath before picking up his quill and writing six words:

I will. I love you too

The mage didn't respond to his father calling him the grandest thing that he had ever seen. He couldn't respond to it because he had no idea how to respond to such a statement. He would wait for his father to reply if he had anything else to say, before closing the book and putting it on the desk. He then sat at the head of his bed, pulled his knees into his chest, and softly wept.