Mind

As the sun was setting behind a snow covered mountain range, the town of Vale was busy trying to use the last of the orange and gold rays that came through the clouds to get through their ordinary day of trade, crafting and the sorts. As the market collectively decided to call it a day, two dragonborn walked off to home towards the last light of the day. One had skin of shiny silver, the most reflective type of skin a dragonborn could have. The others skin was a faded gold. The shine on his skin had not come through as much, for he was a youngling still. He hoped that in the future, his scales might be as bright as his grandfather’s beside him. The younglings name sounded powerful and articulate in draconic, but was a bit of a mouth full in the common tongue, which was the preferred speech in Vale. Roughly translated, the younglings name would be Orderly Mind That Takes In. Since most of his conversations, besides the ones with his own kin, were spoken in common, the young dragonborn usually answered to Mind. Minds grandfather, Thought That Confronts Chaos, also preferred people just call him Thought when speaking the common tongue. Vale was decent sized town, with folks from many races. There were a few more dragoborn in Vale, as well as humans, half orcs, halfings and the occasional elf. Sometimes even some gnomes would visit Vale when they came down form the their homes in the woods that were scattered on the mountain ranges. According to Thought, the variety of races in Vale was because of its location near a large trading route that lead through the mountains and forests. All sorts of folks would come and go for trade. Some would stay and start a family. A long time ago, Thought and his then pregnant wife had done the very same. The daughter they gave birth to in Vale eventually met a dragonborn herself and gave birth to his grandson Mind. Thought always dreamt of traveling off to new places after his wife died. He wanted to see more of the mountains, and learn more in the ways of magic and understand more of the world he lived in. Shortly after his wife died however, the same sickness fell on his daughter, his son in law, as well as their new born Mind. Mind was the only one that survived, so Thought stayed in Vale to raise him as his own. He decided that teaching his orphaned grandson in the ways of magic would prove to be just as gratifying as learning new magic himself. And so he did.   They made a living crafting small magic items and potions, and selling them on the marked. Since so many different people lived in Vale, it was not very hard to think of some useful tool or oil that someone might need. Ingredients were easy to come by as well, though many of the travelers who they bought them from did not know many of the properties of the ingredients they brought. Thought would always know how to make them into something useful. Although Mind liked the work they did, and learned many things from his grandfather, he too desired to one day travel of in search for more knowledge of the word and to find out about the properties of rare magical items. But for the time being, he was stuck trading his and his grandfather’s wares in Vale.   Vale’s market square was not located in the middle of town, like in most places. Rather it was located nearer to the woods where the trading route went through. Vales many houses and smaller markets were located more off to the cliff side, where the view on the western sky was always stunning, especially in the evenings. Mind and his grandfather walked back home from a profitable day at the marked. Their backpacks and wooden cart had come to the market full of potions, enchanted tools, herbs, glassware, copies of spells, scrolls of knowledge and many more things that Vales peoples and weary travelers might want. Most items were sold, and now their backpacks were filled with freshly bought food, along with the coins that made up their proceeds. Thought always carried the silver pieces and Mind the gold pieces, to accompany their skin colors. Their cart was now empty, which was a symbol of success in Vale. Things were good.   As they walked back, Mind and his grandfather heard the crack of what sounded like a large vase shattering in many pieces behind them. Thought turned his head. Mind saw his grandfather’s face frown a bit, like he was is deep thought. Mind suspected that he wanted to go over and offer his mending spell, since his grandfather loved fixing things. His grandfather, however, put down the empty cart and told mind there was trouble at the marked. “We leave the cart and go home as quickly as possible”, he said. As they rushed home, the noise started taking up. Some women were screaming and the unsheathing of swords let Mind know that this was serious.   By the time they got home the town was in uproar. It seemed as everyone was running to a different place. Tall men in brown hoods ran through the streets, smashing every window, killing the men women and children that they encountered with no exceptions. Stores and houses were plundered. A few men fleeing from the Inn nearby met their early fate at the doorstep as their abdomens were pierced by swords and spears. The men in the brown hoods seemed to be a mixture humans, hobgoblins and a few half orcs. All carrying steel weapons. Within a few minutes Minds world went form quiet orderliness to complete chaos. He wished he knew what to do, though he knew that his grandfather did know what to do. At the doorstep of their small home that had belonged to Minds parents, Thought urged Mind to go inside, take a cloak, his grandfather’s spell book, and the two backpacks they had carried home. He was to hide in the kitchen, which had a back door that lead to the cliff that Vale was standing on. His grandfather told him that he was to go out and flee through that door when the fire started. Not before and not after. Minds was not sure what he meant, so he said that he could help fight, for he knew a few spells that could prove useful. “No”, his grandfather said firmly. “There is far too many of them. I’ve heard of the brown hoods and they won’t stop till everyone is dead. Now it is my time to fight once more. And for the last time I presume. It is your time to travel now and your day to fight will come, though I will not be there to help you anymore. Go and hide under the table. When the fire starts, that’s when you go out through the back door and leave Vale. I love you my boy”. And just like that he left.   Mind must have sat under the table for what must have been half an hour. Though it seemed like an eternity. He wanted to help so bad, but he made a promise to his grandfather. He wished he was more powerful. As time passed, he heard many thing. Screams, clattering steel, booms from spells and shattering glass. But no fire for all that time. Then, he heard his grandfather shout some spell in draconic. Mind was fluent in draconic, but did not know the words that were shouted by his grandfather that night. The last word his grandfather would ever speak. The shout was followed by a boom, and then an all engulfing inferno that’s destroyed the eastern side of the house. Mind got up slowly, still disoriented from the boom and ring in his ear. Half his house was blown away by the fiery explosion but he was left relatively unharmed. Listening to his grandfather and staying under the table had saved his life. Through the burning wood of what once was the outside wall of his house, he saw Vale in flames. Scattered, charred wood was everywhere. The cloaked men we burning and running. Houses were falling apart in oceans of flames. Mind was alone. He suddenly realized that the fire meant he was to leave immediately. So out the back door he went, just like he promised. Slowly at first, but when he saw no one, he ran off into the smoldering woods. It started to rain lightly. Mind had no idea whether or not that was his grandfather’s doing. Then, he heard footsteps coming from Vale's direction. As he looked back, a limping figure approached slowly. He was looking at the ground and did not see the young dragonborn. Mind did not see his face, for a brown cloak covered his head. When the figure came closer, Mind saw that the cloak was severely burnt. Not just the cloak in fact. The figures right leg, right arm and most of his chest were red and black. The severe burns would be enough to kill any man. And Mind noticed it nearly did. The figure noticed Minds feet and looked up at him. When their eyes met, the figures’ pupils dilated. “Another one… a golden one”, he uttered in a hoarse and broken voice. Then he started coughing. Softly at first, then louder. His burnt lungs gave up and the charred creature fell to the ground. Mind didn’t move for a full minute. When the burn victim had not drawn breath for all that time, he kneeled beside him and rolled him over by his cold shoulder. He took off his brown cloak. Beneath the red and black blisters, what remained of a man was visible. Mind noticed that the image of a small dagger, with a large drop of blood was burnt into the mans’ left cheek. This burn did not come from his grandfather. It looked old, and placed there voluntarily. When Mind saw the same image burnt into the brown cloak, he knew it must have been their symbol. A symbol of thieves and murderers. Mind thought to himself If they like to get burnt, my grandfather sure gave them what was coming to them. Suddenly a dark and heavy sadness came over him. He could not accept it but he knew he had lost everything. His parents, his grandfather, even Vale itself. The sun had completely set now behind the western mountain range. It was dark. The light rain fell on his nose but evaporated almost instantly. Mind opened his mouth and burst of orange and red and golden flames sprout from his mouth, engulfing the dead man once more in an inferno. Nothing was left of him now. This would be the first time Mind would fire this dragons breath. But he decided that it would not be the last. No… he would show the world his fire. The two backpacks he had been carrying were still on his back. He put them down and arranged all the food and coin they got that day into the larger of the two, along with his grandfather’s spell book. Then he got up and took a deep breath. On the exhale some golden flames and black smoke still rose up from his nostrils. Then he started running.   Mind didn’t stop until he was completely out of dragons breath. He thought of his grandfather. And of his parents. And of Vale. He decided he would travel indeed. And that he would become a wizard so powerful that no band of cloaked thieves, or anyone could destroy anything that he would choose to hold dear again. A youngling dragonborn, a backpack with supplies and a spell book filled with knowledge left the flames of Vale behind.     Over the years, Mind traveled. He traveled from city to city. When supplies ran low, he offered his labor to local inn keeps, salesman and craftsmen and the sorts. In the mornings before work, he would read spell books over and over and over. He read other books as well. Whatever he could find that would improve his knowledge of the arcane arts. Mind never stayed in one place for too long. When he ran out of books to read in a town, he made plans to travel again. Books on nature would keep him alive in the forests at night. Books on people would help him barter his way into a job in the next town. Books on medicine would make sure he knew what to do when he got sick. That’s how Mind lived for a long time. As Mind grew up, his knowledge and power increased. Traveling through the mountains and forests when going from town to town he liked the most. There would be no one to bother him, he could enjoy the nature and he could scavenge for ingredients for spells whenever he wanted. The journey would always end up at the next town, village, harbor or city however. He would occasionally take a job tutoring children of rich lords. He found most of them to lack academic inclination and preferred to learn new things himself. Every day, Mind practiced in the ways of magic, becoming stronger an learning more spells. Eventually he felt confident enough to offer himself as hire for safety escorts and security jobs. Mind liked the way he lived, though on occasion he did think of Vale and his family. Yet he would always find a way to get by and continue. As years went by, the dragonborn noticed that the faded gold color of his skin became shinier and shinier. He wondered if his skin might ever reflect that of his grandfather’s.     es direction. As he looked back, a limping figure approached slowly. He was looking at the ground and did not see the young dragonborn. Mind did not see his face, for a brown cloak covered his head. When the figure came closer, Mind saw that the cloak was severely burnt. Not just the cloak in fact. The figures right leg, right arm and most of his chest were red and black. The severe burns would be enough to kill any man. And Mind noticed it nearly did. The figure noticed Minds feet and looked up at him. When their eyes met, the figures’ pupils dilated. “Another one… a golden one”, he uttered in a hoarse and broken voice. Then he started coughing. Softly at first, then louder. His burnt lungs gave up and the charred creature fell to the ground.