| TigerGundam | Created on Wednesday, 10 June 2009 23:13 |
| TigerGundam |
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I remember..I was born far east, near a rural town named Tir Chonail, the eldest of three boys, my parents always expected a lot from me. When I was six, a plague scourged our lands, extirpating everyone in it's path. My father worked as a blacksmith in Tir, he was quarantined inside the town in an effort to stop further infection. When I was nine, unable to resist any longer, my mother went to visit my father, worried about his well being. Unfortunately, she too contracted the contagion. After being alone for quite sometime with no word, I realized that we were alone.. My brothers were to young to recall, I've told others the story I told them.. But I remember.. I remember what really happened.. After awhile, we'd eaten all of the food in our cellar.. I remember looking over to my brothers one day, their faces overcome with grief, their clothes soaked in tears. Though I knew so little, I knew that the responsibility inadvertently fell upon me to care for them. With nothing left to eat, and no news of the illness, I left to scavenge what I could in town. `=- I remember my first trip into town after the incident. It had gotten so bad that relief efforts were discontinued, the remaining survivors in the town were left to die. As I neared the town, I'd smelled the foul stench of death for the first time. Determined to feed my brothers, I continued forward. I was greeted by the sight of a festering corpse on the dirt road leading into Tir. It's skin covered in grotesque purple boils, the smell of its rotting flesh advancing my walk into a sprint. I'd passed one corpse and shortly another, six more lie on the road after those, and ten more before I reached the town gates. Bodies littered the streets, swarms of flies overhead shaded the sun. The putrid smells now matched by the taste of vomit, fighting for freedom from within. Endless supplies of food remained. ensuring that I would be visiting the town often. I could not tell my brothers what I'd seen. I convinced them that I'd been working to help rebuild the town. I soon began having nightmares, ghastly visions of my mother telling me bedtime stories. Our home became the provenance of my agony. For my own sake, we could no longer stay there, I'd taken my brothers to large abandoned edifice, formally owned by a rich landlord. We'd learned to survive on our own. After several years, my trips into town were now few. We'd learned to live off the land, usually gathering just enough to get by. Most of my time was spent in the library of the estate, reading the books that were left behind. This allowed to me educate myself and eventually my brothers. Though we'd found a way of life through tragedy, my nightmares persisted for many years. My dreams were now voices. I kept my affliction secret for many more years afterward. -=` Survivors of cataclysm, we each suffered our own burdens. Distraught by my own hindrance, I failed to notice the deteriorating mental condition of my youngest brother. He'd grown into a very troubled man, never quite able to overcome the trauma of out ordeal. He was gone one morning, the knife that belonged to our father missing as well. After quite sometime, my other brother left in search of him. Alone in my solitude, I read my books while I awaited their return. Two years passed.. Discontent with solitude, I gathered my things and began walking aimlessly into the night. I drifted for quite some time, finally arriving in Koguryo, Yuri 63. Tiger |
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