Vagabond - The Tale of Everything

[Caterpillar]

For a while I have been writing chapters about Knar's life: his childhood, time as bandit, soldier and general... up until point when his journey in LoRA started. The chapter's are short, not really telling you everything about Knar -- but maybe they'll give you a glimpse how he become the beast he's now on this day. From the very begining these chapters were meant just for me to organize and scribe down Knar's life's turning points, but now I have decided share them with you. ^^

Each post is one chapter and written from third peson perspective. I prefer to keep the chapters short and in linear order from Knar's childhood to his malehood to avoid confusion... But it may not always happen as I write the chapters according to my current mood.

NOTION: In this thread, the upcoming chapters may contain dark themes, violence etc. I try to keep it under PG-13 rating.

[Caterpillar]

The Vagabond - The Beginning of the Something

He knew for the first that this male beast would know how to hurt him. He had to keep the fear secret, and he couldn't cry no matter how much he wanted to. When he was hungry he couldn't ask for more food, when he was cold he couldn't try move himself closer to the fire. When he was tired he had to stay awake, when he was lonely he would have to be strong.

The male beast, the dark furred pine marten was looking at him. Not always, but at the certain moments where his composure was tested. In those moments he could always feel that dark, unmoving and piercing stare on his scruff. Watching and waiting if he would show any fear, if he would complain or cry. If he showed any kind of weaknesses.

So he learned quickly not to let any of those be discovered. He learned how stay unmoving under that stare, like a stone. A stone which didn't fear or didn't complain. Like the stone which was hard and strong and could withstand anything. And you never heard it complain or cry, no matter how carefully you pressed your ear on their cold and rugged surface and listened. The stone stayed always silent and unmoving. So he learned to be just like them, just like the stones. Squeezing his fears, his sobs and complains into tight hard ball and burying them deep inside the rock-thick skin he created to protect himself. It made him felt heavy as if he was carrying stiff knot in his belly. But it also made him feel strong as now the cold, the hunger, the fear or the loneliness couldn't get to him anymore.

For he knew the sharp-eyed beast would hurt him if he were to give him a reason. And for the male beast any weakness was the reason. The reason for punishment. And as for a tool of the punishment the beast had a whip with wooden handle and seven leather laces. And each lace had knots on their ends and sharp peddles tied on their entirely length. Lashes from it hurt, they always did, but he learned to keep himself unmoving and silent like the stone he was laying on when that tool slashed out. And somehow it hurt less.

He didn't hate the beast or his whip for his hate was with his fears, in faraway place deep inside him where it could no-more reach him. But he didn't like to be hurt by that beast so he was careful not to give him any reason to do so. For he knew this beast would know how to hurt him.

His own son.