Diuri
Legacy Name: Diuri

The teens fingers trembled under the weight of the string, pulled taut, wood creaking as it bent to accommodate the force. Diuri had only just perfected his draw and release, his young body showing its budding strength as he pointed the arrow to the raider that had breached their village. Without thinking he placed himself between the man and his mother and younger brother. His stomach retched but he swallowed it down, squaring his shoulders in the same moment to force his own confidence.

“I said leave.” While everything in him told him to step back as the large man stepped forward Diuri resisted, elbow lifting just slightly and he let out a calm breath. The moment he saw the raiders foot shift to begin a run he loosed his arrow with his exhale; gasping the air back in as it pierced his enemy’s chest without a sound, and watched him fall.

Discipline
I do what is necessary and right of my own accord without bribe or threat.

The tension of his string made his fingers tremble, a grimace on his strong features as he stayed his arrow. He had been about to fell a bear, his friends and hunting partners all crowded behind the eighteen year old. They were egging him on, but small furry bundles were what stopped him from loosing the deadly point.

Diuri could almost hear the squeaked roars of the bear cubs from his high perch. Sighing as he moved out of his stance, he tucked the arrow back into its quiver.

“Come on.”

“Don’t be weak!”

“Shoot it!!”

The teen furrowed his brow, knowing it was wrong to take a mother away from her cubs - if the mother died, the cubs would eventually follow.

“No.” He stated firmly, friends groaning almost in unison. “We can find another.”

Diuri turned his gaze from the small family below to see a friend known for his hot temper stringing his own arrow on his bow.

“I’ll do it.” The teen said defiantly, glaring at Diuri from the corner of his eye. Diuri’s shoulders straightened, stepping forward to intimidate the other into backing down. When it didn’t work the young man grunted, just barely stopping himself from shoving the other to the ground in a bout of childish frustration. Instead he glanced down, grabbing a large rock with tanned hand and launching it in the direction of the bears before the other could loose his arrow.

The loud thump as the projectile hit a tree also shook the leaves. The mother and cubs took off out of sight and his own relief was evident as the others cursed at him and stalked off.

Fidelity
I am true to family, friends, and kindred and to those I pledge my services.

Other than his ragged breathing, the quiet pat pat of his own blood dripping onto concrete was the only sound in the room. Brown tendrils of hair hung in his eyes and pressed against his face, he could feel the feather of his ancestors scraping against bare skin; his nerves on fire and it felt like a knife. He had been left in the cold, dark room for the time being, recovering from the intense pain he had been bathed in for the past few hours.

His resolution had been solid, not hating his Gods for forsaking him but rather pulling strength from them to stand against the interrogation.

This hunt had been a particularly grueling one, and they really should have known considering the pay out at the end was enormous. The young girl that traveled with he and his hunting partner was safely tucked away deep in the forest, though he had no idea where his partner was. But staunch in the knowledge that he was formulating his strategy.

The cold made his open wounds ache, a draft from the outer weather creeping over his skin like dead fingers each time the wind blew. Diuri could barely see the light with the one eye that wasn’t swollen shut, and although it hurt to look, he kept his attention on the shadows.

Calloused and clasped fingers were numb by the time the pale men returned, light bathing the room and making him groan, but he could already feel the heat of it spreading over his skin.

Once more he was snapped at in unfamiliar tongue, lifting his head to look his torturers in the face. As the man got closer the Northerner's muscles tense, taking a deep inhale through his nose he jerked forward as he spat a mix of blood and mucus into the mans eyes, grinning to flash red soaked teeth.

“Loki curse you.”

Honor
I stand by my oaths and honor my ancestors by keeping my name pure among the kindred.

Breath held as his skin crackled and hissed under the red hot iron. It was his coming of age and the rune selected by the Elder was being burned into his skin.

Uruz, meaning courage and life force, strength and knowledge.

The Elder meditated on each young man’s branding for weeks before the celebration, Diuri looked around as he was surrounded by friends and family while the bon fire roared in the night. The pain numbed to nothing in moments, his father held his wrist in a tight grip as black powder was rubbed into the open wound. He knew the process, what he would still have to endure for weeks to ensure he was worthy of such an honor. The scar would have to be opened, powder pressed into the skin to ensure the eventual scar would be raised and roped; a symbol of his kindred.

Through the pain brown eyes twinkled in the orange glow, lips split in a wide grin as a horn of mead was thrust into his free hand.

He was a man now.

Hospitality
I share hearth, food, an drink with my friends, my kindred, and the weary traveler at my door.

The juices of their dinner rolled down his chin when he bit into the meat, pulling it off the bone. Diuri sighed in easy pleasure. Despite their lack of fine cooking, the bird was delightfully tasty, simply paired with the last of their bread and water. The bounty hunters ate in silence as they always did, having found a clearing just off the secluded path.

So secluded that confusion settled into brown eyes as a lone traveler came into view - the man seemed to be older, draped in heavy cloths, and leaned his weight on a tall staff as he walked. With a quick glance to his companion, Diuri waited until the man was close enough before hailing him.

“Come! Join us, you look hungry and tired and we have food. Sit.” Taking his already bitten meat into his hand, Diuri placed the battered metal plate on the ground to grab the man another large piece, handing it and his bread over with a grin.

Ignoring the exasperated look from across the crackling fire, the hunter fell quiet as the man began to speak of his travels. Diuri was regaled with tales, both happy and sad, and he felt every moment of them as if they were his own.

Though his eyes saw the shifts, his mind refused to acknowledge them, blinking when the mans face seemed to change from kind old man to wise one, when one of his eyes disappeared to leave a scarred husk in its wake. The shifts never lasted longer than a blink as the man continued in his tales.

As night settled and stars emerged, the man rose, thanking both of them for the warmth of their fire. Diuri rose with him, reaching out almost at the same time their traveler did to grasp his forearm. His raised brand seemed to burn once more as his arm was grasped in return.

“Thank you, stranger, for sharing with us and telling us your tales. Safe travels amongst this lonely road.”

And as the man was walking away, the hunter swore he could see a black winged bird settle onto his shoulder.

Industriousness
I take joy in labour an hold nothing back in the work I have pledged to do.

There was a familiar sourness in the set of handsome features on companion who was forced to sit on an uncomfortable rock while Dirui knelt before him with a pack of bandages in his hands. Gold eyes looked off into the distance, not for a squeamish stomach but out of stubbornness that was one of Diuri’s favored qualities. As numbing salve was applied to cut skin, touch tender despite the strength against pain Vishna possessed.

Curved needle pierced bronze skin repeatedly, a skill perfected throughout years of injuries on his own body the stitches were neat and tight. The deep cut pressed closed to allow the lengthy process of the skin knitting back together to start, so engrossed in his work the passing of time was lost on the bow hunter. Healing salve applied and invocation of quick work requested of the Gods Diuri was wrapping the stitched wound with clean fabric, lifting a beaming smile to meet his shaggy haired patient.

Perseverance
I press on against all odds until my goal is met and the task is finished.

clickclickclickThe pebble bounced along the trail before him, the young boy's arms crossed in front of his chest and a sour look set on his features. He was always being made fun of by the older boys in the village, as being slightly small for his age and the clan master's son left him open and ridicule. He couldn’t help that his arm still trembled when he drew his bow, or that only one of five of his arrows flew true.

The cut over his brow tingled with the healer's salve, only making him kick the pebble harder. His father had verbally punished him before the rest of the clan after e had launched himself at the other boys in his anger and frustration.

If the pebble hadn’t of skipped under the brush, he never would have seen the fluffy brown wool of a sheep. The boy's sad eyes brightened with determination as he pulled his bow and an arrow from his quiver to level between the leaves.

He hadn’t seen the two rounded horns protruding from the ram’s skull, but he felt them when they slammed into his upper leg and launched him into the air. Diuri’s small body bounced off the rocks of the ravine like a rag toy, landing at the bottom in a heap of dust with his right leg twisted and bent in an unnatural angle. The pain didn’t register until nearly ten minutes later, the intense throbbing of broken bones consuming him.

He did his best not to cry, tears of pain welling in his eyes when he shifted and the throbbing momentarily turned into stabbing. It hurt to breathe and he could barely move his leg. Looking around him, he saw that his bow had snapped in half, and sighed in disappointment and fear. His father was going to murder him.

It was the thought of the punishment that kept him in place for hours, despite the threat of the sun going down. He felt stupid for thinking he could take down the ram, even if he hadn’t known it was a ram at first. Rocks were squeezed in small fist, tears falling in earnest now and he was even angrier with himself when they did.

It wasn’t until he heard the birds of night start singing that he realized he would have to find a way home or he would become a feast for the wolves. The worry of his father still tingled in his gut, but he tried to steel himself against it.

He could do this, he was strong.

Cutting the sinew that was the string of his bow, he tied the pieces to his leg like he had seen the healer do before. It was hard to see in the low light but he spied a thick branch not too far from where he landed and, holding back outcries of pain, the boy dragged himself to the spot and used both it and a boulder to help himself stand. Nearly collapsing in pain, his weight dropped onto the large rock, panting hard. It took all the mental courage he had to stand again, putting his faith in his Gods as he started to move to were the ravine was less steep.

It took him longer than he thought, constantly slipping on loose stones, but finally he crested the edge and felt the grass under his fingers. Both hands wrapping around the branch, he pulled himself up and laid out on the flat ground; catching his breath and waiting for the pain to die down again so he could stand once more.

Finding the trail wasn’t as hard, moving little by little with his weight held by his good leg and the wood. It felt like hours before he started to see the familiar trees and hours more before he saw fires through the leaves.

It was his mother who found him at the edge of the village, exhausted beyond care and lying in the grass. His skin was bloodied and his makeshift splint had started to come undone when she hefted him into her arms, seeing her diminishing worry before his world finally went black.

Self Reliance
I learn skills and grow strong so that I may earn my way in the world and be no burden to others.

Forced to leave his bow and quiver outside of the small hand-raised building, the growing teenager felt almost naked without its familiar weight hanging from his back. Diuri sat cross legged in his space, unraveling his almost finished pair of deer skin pants from under his arm. As the others in the class chatted, he got to work almost right away, determined to finish the pants for his first official hunt with his father.

When their teacher walked in, he looked up and smiled brightly at his mother’s sister, poking himself in the finger with the needle bone. Laughter surrounded him at the surprised yelp he emitted, huffing and soothing the injury with his tongue; sucking until it stopped hurting.

As Sefa walked around the room, Diuri worked harder, determined to show just how much he had learned. Ballooned pride was deflated when she pointed out his messy stitches, frowning but undoing each and every one under watchful eyes. He rethreaded the eye of the needle carefully, pushing down his anxious and rushed feelings to finish the project in order to focus each time as the tip pierced the sturdy leather.

Deep brown eyes looked for approval after a dozen stitches were redone, smiling at the pleased nod, before the boy returned to his work.

Truth
I seek the truth even though it may be a hard truth, I speak true words or stand in silence and I defend the truth from those who do not honor it.

The vibrations echoed through his entire being as sharpened blades struck his raised bow. His gaze didn’t waver as Visha’s eyes widened, Diuri having stepped between close friend and the unarmed, cowering man the mercenary intended to kill.

When Diuri had seen the terror in the man’s eyes, weapons scattered around him and the way he pressed close to the ground, he couldn’t just idly stand by. Even as the blades pressed harder he kept steadfast, seeing the confusion in friends eyes.

“Don’t.” Hunter stated, pressing up and pushing the weapons away to lower his bow. He had learned over their travels that Vishna was one to kill first and not ask questions later, unable or unthinking to differentiate when a kill was needed and when it was not.

“There is no need to kill him.” The air felt heavy around them as neither moved for a long moment which only ended when Vishna forced a loud scoff and turned to stalk away.

Diuri let out a heavy sigh, shoulders slumping from where they had been squared, glad that the incident hadn’t ended in an altercation because he wasn’t sure he would have come out on top. With a glance over his shoulder he shooed the man whose life he saved away, slinging his bow onto his back once more before trudging after the disgruntled mercenary.

my heart is a flutter

Story by rikve.
Profile coding by User not found: sentinel.
Profile art done by Doc-Roe.
Overlay done by Adam.