After dinner, the fire glowed with warmth. Morgan looked around him excitedly. It was as he had always imagined it.
“Will you let me meet the soldiers?” He asked, “I want to show them what I can do.”
“Why?” The fire warmed Perin’s feet, and set his bones to aching. His old scars and battered limbs hurt at night, when he was tired.
“I want to soldier, like you and father.”
“Why would you?”
“It brings you glory, it makes my father’s name proud.” Morgan looked puzzled.
Silently, Perin tugged his leather tunic over his head. Fine lines crossed his torso like a web, over his chest and back. He moved toward Morgan, and let the fire send shadows across his disfigured face and body.
“This is what it brings, not glory. Scars and pain, boy. Battle only brings scars and pain. A soldier is born to meet death. He only escapes it when it claims him.
Forget this stupid idea. Your father sent me to make sure you followed your path. I’m sending you to learn at the school. We want you to be a great man.
You won’t repeat our mistake.”
Morgan said nothing. He had seen the scars before. He had heard his father and Perin planning his life. He knew that they wanted Morgan to live a life of peace. He knew that he would never win an argument with Perin, but he did have a trump card. He played it.
“You hate war. You always speak to me of the horror. Then, how can you live in it, always?”
“I failed. I failed your great-grandfather. He wished me to be great, among elves and men. I turned on him, and failed. I am a soldier, nothing more. A hunter, who has never found his prey.”
“You’re going to tell me of Jared, my great-grandfather, aren’t you?”
Perin’s face softened. He loved this boy, and the man he reminded Perin of.
“Yes, yes I am.”
------------------
The RudeDawg
Known in these Forgotten Realms as Perin LightEyes