In the Footsteps of the Damned; Prelude

To kick this off, I will start with my character’s backstory. This whole writeup is written from his perspective in the present and first person, so it would make sense that as a reader, you have the same knowledge as him. Enjoy!

Prelude

Abraxos was born on the islands of Ceramecia, to a noble family. It was immediately apparent as to his Celestial heritage with the rosy skin and soft glow emanating from his eyes.

Growing up, he became fast friends with Seraphina, his Deva spirit guide, whom he conversed with during lucid dreams most nights. Seraphina guided him towards greatness and the light, working towards the benefit of all. Meanwhile his parents capitalised upon his celestial nature and sought tutorship from the wisest of clerics who instilled his sense of right and wrong.

Once he reached of age, and as an Aasimar, he was often considered a thorn in the side of the ruling lords and merchants who would be more interested in the easiest / most profitable way to run things, rather than the “right” way to do them. But Abraxos’ noble birthright gave him a voice at assemblies and he could not be easily ignored, especially as they lined their pockets and Ceramecia slipped into deeper and deeper poverty.

One day, Abraxos’ dreamtime visits from Seraphina, started to take a turn; Normally loving and magnanimous, Seraphina started to sound more harsh and judgemental, especially towards these lords and merchants. They berated Abraxos for not doing something about them – seemingly at odds with previous visits. Eventually, confused and scared by this change, delirious from weeks of no rest due to the nightmares, he had gone out in a drunken stupor and confronted one of the merchant chiefs at their home. Barging his way in, there was an altercation, which had left blood on his hands and the man dead at his feet.

That night, for the first time in many nights, he slept soundly and woke rested with vague memories of Seraphina’s, once again, soothing tones. Upon awakening, Abraxos was horrified to find his bloodied clothes and recount the events that had culminated in his slaughter, but neither did he forget the satisfaction of watching the light fade from his victims’ eyes. He liked it, and he hated himself for it.

Seeking counselling from Seraphina, he was told that the ends justify the means, but failed to reconcile this against his human upbringing of right and wrong, for the Deva could only see the bigger picture. A few individuals effectively strangling a whole community for their own benefit? Kill them! Remove them! By whichever means possible. Refuting this, Abraxos was determined to resolve things his way, but more often than not, it always ended in blood and with a slowly increasing grin on his face. Until it reached the point when Abraxos was not even trying to restrain himself, and sometimes even just looking for a fight because he wanted to. Somewhere along the way Seraphina had stopped speaking to him, leaving him to bleak, dreamless sleep.

Waking one morning, after another meaningless murder, Abraxos had caught a glimpse of himself in a reflective surface and his normally golden eyes had faded to a deep purple. His bright complexion had darkened and at once in a sobering moment, he “heard” and felt the silence from his Deva. Realising how far he had fallen from the ideals he was raised with, and the disappointment that he knew others would feel for him when they saw the change in his appearance, he locked himself away in his home, while he worked out what to do. But without the voice of Seraphina to give him guidance he was lost.

Through more luck than judgement, and in no small part to his social standing, most accusations of wrong doing landed far from him, and his societal isolation was seen as a self preservation response to the wave of murders that had been occuring.

Using the influence of his name and the wealth of his family, he acquired a vast amount of literature on the nature of Aasimars and their connection to The Celestial (via intermediaries and go-betweens of course – he could let no one see his face!). After much studying, and having spent a sizable chunk on his wealth, Abraxos was able to procure a large gem that, when stared into, resembled something of the night sky with a particular constellation at the centre.

Following instructions scratched into the margins of one of his books, and through no small amount of effort and concentration, Abraxos was able to communicate with The Celestial via this gem.

The Celestial admonished Abraxos for his wanton slaughter and battle lust – he had been harming those most in need when he had gone out aimless and hunting for blood. Ends do justify the Means when dealing with rot and corruption, but mindless slaughter achieves nothing. Abraxos shamefully admitted to the error of his ways and begged The Celestial for a second chance, a shot at redemption. The Celestial agreed to one chance to regain his favour, but on the condition that Abraxos pledge himself completely to The Celestial, and to be his force of influence in the mortal realm and that he would “know” when and where he was needed. Abraxos felt this responsibility like a weight on his shoulders, but humbly accepted, knowing it was the only way.

Tired from the meditation, Abraxos slept, and rejoiced in his dreams when Seraphina returned to his thoughts. They reiterated and reinforced much of what The Celestial had spoken of, but then elaborated that the responsibility did come with some power. The following morning changed Abraxos’ life forever.

What passed for a police force in Ceramecia had been slowly and diligently following up on clues and leads from the murders, whether they suspected Abraxos, or merely needed him to answer some questions was irrelevant; the outcome was the same. When they called at his home that morning, waking to the sound of the first beating on his door, Abraxos knew it was time to leave Ceramecia.

He threw on some clothes, and catching a glimpse of his reflection (dismayed that it was unchanged from the nights revelations) put on a large hood to hide his face, and grabbed some valuables to use to barter for transport. Lastly, picking up the gem that allowed him to commune with The Celestial, he felt a spark and some warmness travel up his arm, filling him with a tingle that resulted in a spark from the fingers on his other hand.

Magic!

But without the time to hesitate, Abraxos quickly pocketed his essentials and made a hasty exit out of the rear door, evading the officials at the front door.

Reaching the docks, he easily pawned his valuables to buy passage to a place far from here, and settled down to await his new life.

A month or so later, the boat stopped at Hirkjufell in Skyllingstadt, and Abraxos disembarked. Following his instinct and the dream-visions sent from his Deva, he travelled to Grimsdalur and found work at Rainik’s Farmstead. Things proceeded quietly, for a while and Abraxos kept under the radar, manual labour by day, studying the starry gem and practising magic at night. To make the gem less conspicuous, Abraxos had managed to affix it to the end of a walking stick, making his own magic staff. But then before long Seraphina told him to be ready, with a vision of travelling north as The Celestial will be requiring his services soon.

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