Information


Alesdair has a minion!

Whisper the Thanatos




Alesdair
Legacy Name: Alesdair


The Bloodred Kumos
Owner: Tessaria

Age: 13 years, 2 weeks

Born: June 1st, 2011

Adopted: 13 years, 2 weeks ago

Adopted: June 1st, 2011

Statistics


  • Level: 24
     
  • Strength: 40
     
  • Defense: 27
     
  • Speed: 25
     
  • Health: 25
     
  • HP: 25/25
     
  • Intelligence: 69
     
  • Books Read: 65
  • Food Eaten: 0
  • Job: Stylist



Work In Progress

Do you hear it?

That whisper at the back of your mind.

You tell yourself it isn't real, that you are imagining things. Your broken mind playing tricks on you.

Yet every day you find yourself listening to the silent voice more closely. It is so, so quiet, yet it somehow drowns out everything else.
And soon that voice is the only thing you can hear.

You find yourself agreeing with it. And it scares you. But it is such a sweet murmur and you begin to wonder if the words spoken might be the truth you've been looking for. You try to find a reason to disagree with it and you come up short.

And then you wonder if that is really a bad thing.

This is the moment you know you have fallen. But for some reason that doesn't seem to matter. It should, you know it should, but the reason why escapes you. After a while you stop trying to remember.

From then on there is only the Voice.

The voice in the back of your mind. That sweet whisper guiding you. Showing you things you never knew were there.

You let it take over.

And you feel free.



When he was a boy his mother talked about his future a lot.

She has high expectations about him. He isn't entirely sure what that is about, but he suspects it has something to do with the faint whisper he hears in his head sometimes. Mother has mentioned something about it once.

Growing up he starts believing his mother less and less. Especially after starting at that fancy school she had enrolled him in. As time goes by he becomes increasingly convinced his mother had it wrong.

Demons weren't real. They couldn't be.

o o o

He was forgetting something. A presence from his childhood years which had faded away to a shadow of a memory. Or maybe it was something he had created to keep him company in the empty house. Whatever it was, his sister took its place in his mind and heart.

o o o

She is beautiful. Precious.

Those are the thoughts that come to his mind when his mother first puts Verin in his arms. A smiling, gurgling soft thing that has to be protected. A pure soul and he intended to keep it to keep it that way. The moment her then baby blue eyes met his own he decided. He would not allow her to be tainted, like he had been.

o o o

Verin doesn't seem to respond well to Mother and she often complains about her baby girl's behaviour. Verin seems to react much better to Alasdair and Mother entrusts him with the task of teaching her, hoping he would bring her baby girl's true self out.

Instead he reads her fairy tales. He tells her a little about the demonic, just enough to fool their mother, and makes sure she knows none of it is real. "But mother thinks it is, you know. Can you pretend for her?"

She nods happily and Mother never knows her children believe she is crazy.

o o o

Alasdair grows worried. Mother is getting suspicious and impatient and it seems more and more likely she would take Verin away from him. And turn her into something like Alasdair, or worse.

If only she knew. That it would never be. That Alasdair would do anything to make sure his little sister isn't robbed of her childhood, like he had been.

Three days before Verin's seventh birthday he finally acts.

o o o

It's almost midnight when he quietly enters Verin's room and gently shakes her shoulder. "Wake up, sweetie."

She sleepily turns over, mumbling something incomprehensible, and rubs her eyes. The image makes him smile. "'Dair? What's going on?"

"You have to get up. Come on." He encourages softly.

Now he has her full attention and the sleep is slowly draining away from her. "Why? Are we going somewhere?"

She keeps asking questions as he helps out of her bed and into one of her more comfortable dresses. Suspicion creeps into her eyes when he slips her feet in a pair of travelling shoes.

"We're going away."

He picks up a hairbrush and starts brushing her hair. Meanwhile she continues asking questions with a lot of animated movements, which doesn't make his work any easier. However he does manage to put her wild curls in order and ties them with her favourite bow.

"Why? Is mom coming? Where is she? And what's this red stuff on you? It smells funny." Her nose scrunches up at her words.

"No, she isn't- what red stuff?" His eyes fall to his shirt and he pales. Cursing himself he bolts from the room, leaving a confused little sister behind.

When he returns, now wearing a clean shirt, she has taken out her own suitcase and is sitting on top of it, delicate face resting on her small palms. She has a strange look in her eyes; a knowing look. "Mom isn't going anywhere, is she?"

He simply nods, seeing no point in lying about it. She was too smart for that.

"Why?" There should be hurt in her voice, tears in her eyes, but it's just the simple question of an inquisitive child. It should worry him that she is not the least bit upset, but at the moment he is relieved she isn't in hysterics.

"For you. To protect you."

She never asks again.

That night they drive away and never look back.

o o o

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