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Xardos Malzan

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All my life, the only thing I've ever known is Music. It brings me joy, comfort and purpose. But not just for me, but for everyone else I come across. It's something that I like to share, and it's my own way of letting people know that I'm different than most nobility. It's not all about money, glamour and recognition. Being a noble means getting to know the people you lead and helping them along the way. My mother understood that well - when I was child, she would walk the streets of our city, mingling with the common folk and building bridges with other people. She was also the one that instilled the love of music within me, forging my path to becoming a bard. Every night before bed, she would play me a soothing tune to help me sleep, and I would slowly drift off until I was completely out. My mother had the heart of saint, and it showed. She was revered by everyone.

My father, on the other hand, is a completely different story. For his entire life, there is one thing that he's been obsessed with, and the one thing he feels he can't get enough of: Power. His idea of ruling is one of brute force - it is either you listen to him, or you paid the price for it, physical or otherwise. My mother never directly said it to me, but I could see growing up that she became more scared of him, more frightful of him, but yet she stayed. Ultimately that fear spread to me. I felt that any disobedience I showed to my father would wind up with me suffering an outcome that I would rather not live through. Whatever kindness and joy my mother brought to people, my father would do a great job in countering that by ruling with an iron fist. He felt his number one rule was law: obey or be punished.

When I turned 17, my mother became extremely ill. It was mysterious, no one could figure what was happening. Doctors, Clerics, anyone we could think kept coming for days or weeks at a time, yet they could not figure out why my mother was suffering like she was. My father was surprisingly patient for the first few days. But after two weeks or so, he became impatient and snapped. He decided to take matters into his own hands, using one of our families' magic tomes to try to conjure a cure. Little did I know that he lost all control and tried to use dark magic to try and save my mother, but he didn't. In fact, he made her condition worse. She ended up dying just a day later. The only source of comfort and safety that I had in this world was gone. I was no longer going to hear her soothing voice, see her warming smile - all of that was gone, and it is all because of my father.

I was geninuely afraid of him after my mother's death. Every day, he became more and more unstable, and more and more frequently he took his anger out on me, no matter how much I appeased him. It felt as though he wanted nothing to do with me. And I geninuely feared for my life. So one night, I decided to do something risky. If I had gotten caught, it would have been the end of me. But it was now or never. I broke into his room, stole the tome, then left my house and the city, and ran. With just the clothes on my back, I ran as far as my legs could take me. I knew it was risk, but I was able to get away. Unfortuantely, some of that dark magic was still left in the tome, and when I touched it, both me and my instruments were infused with this new found power. It was scary at first, but over time I've learned to manipulate it to help others that can't help themselves, and bring justice to those who would dare hurt others. Doing this all while looking and sounding good, I may add.

But my story doesn't end here. I know that my father hasn't stopped looking for me since that night, and I know he will stop at nothing to find both me and that tome I stole. For now, I have found a guild in Wintervaeld that has provided me a home and has accepted me for who I am. Something that my father never did.

Edited by shunnedlizard
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