________It had been years since he last saw his father, nearing five if he recalled correctly, and the visit was one he was looking forward to since the day he fled Tyris. Of his five children, Skeifr adored Leif the most. It was something that Mikkel and Emil, the two eldest of his father's sons, had always noticed and never quite understood. During childbirth, Leif had brought about the death of their mother, and for that his brothers and sister would always hold him at a wary distance. However, Skeifr viewed the child as a gift and the last remnant of his dead wife, a brave woman with as much passion and spirit as he. It was certainly due to this that Leif received the brunt of his father's doting, though dually he was forced to lead a much more structured life than his siblings. Some of his first memories of Skeifr had been of the lute and song, of the nights when his father would set him to rest separately from his kin and remind him of the Tsvalkir blight through the Legend of Rolf Ivarson. As a child, he could remember the story being grand and tragic, almost as though it played tricks on his emotions and whether or not he should smile or cry when it had ended. It took several years of his father's reminders of the songs and the Legends before it finally set in; this was the Tsvalkir Clan legacy. This was not just fiction created to amuse imaginative youngsters. It was reality.
________That reality had been violently actualized twice in his past, two events that effectively fragmented his memory and in moments had caused more suffering than some would experience in the whole of a lifetime. As he stepped off the sailing vessel onto the ice hardened Tyris dock, he was reminded of those two occurrences and the bodies he had left in the wake; their twisted faces, the gore of it, the blood that stained his hands for eternity.
________This is the right thing to do, he thought to himself as he shouldered his small bundle of possessions. Skeifr will be proud.
________And he would have been. Despite helping his boy flee after the first murder, Skeifr believed strongly in taking responsibility for your actions and facing the penalties as a man would, and he had. When Leif left Tyris nearly five years before, Skeifr stood up in his place and took the blame. It's not to say that the Tyrean's weren't appeased with this humble sacrifice, but that the crime simply called for more blood in their perspective. His father had delayed the inevitable chase that had eventually sought him out, for years to come, and Leif was none the wiser as he cautiously made his way through the Tyrean proper. Relatively nothing had changed since his departure: snow and ice still bound in heaps on the side of the dirt roads; the smell of wood smoke that wafted throughout; even his families old home had been seemingly untouched by the tide of time. Yet when he came to the door, he noticed it hung in an awkward slant, and when it had been pushed aside, he found the remains to be deserted and ruined. As he stepped further within, he could hear the sound of snow crunching beneath feet, and for a moment his hand instinctually came to rest upon the blade fastened and sheathed at his waist.
________"All dead, you know," came the sound of a raspy, elderly voice. Leif kept his back to the door, though his grip about the hilt of his blade slowly began to unravel when he understood the old man wasn't a threat.
________"Clan Tsvalkir, all of 'em dead. Skeifr and I were friends for a time. That changed when he admitted to the murder of Edvard Koffson," stated the man as he shook his head with disbelief.
________"To think, after so many years. I knew he was cursed, we all just thought Skeifr was a good man."
________"He was," replied Leif, through clenched teeth and tightened lips as he turned to the door, facing the old man with a glazed stare in his eye that could never have adequately displayed the sorrow he was experiencing. For a moment, his blood began to boil and the frenzy that swayed his actions came to battle for control of his physical being. His chest began to heave as his arms forcefully jerked about, crashing into his sides and flailing in the space before him. When he regained control of his consciousness, the old man was gone. Naturally, he could not bear his fathers' name to be soiled by the failures of his son, and with his original intent and purpose fresh in mind, he left the last of his worldly possessions to be lost within their Hall before heading steadfast to speak with the Koen.
________Although he would never admit it, when he closed the door to his childhood home for the last time, he wept for Skeifr and his dead siblings: Mikkel, Emil, Olan and Hilde. He wept for his beloved Nikolina and Edvard, the innocent man he had murdered for a deed he never committed, and for Nakhir and Nathan, the foreigners who loved him like a brother and who he expected to never see again.

________He had to stop himself momentarily to choke back the tears he could feel swelling in the depths of his throat.
________Men don't cry, he stubbornly told himself. Plucking the tankard from the bar he found himself seated before, and tossing back an alcoholic's portion of the contents, the container came back to its resting place, smearing the ring of condensation that had began to form on the wood surface. His lips smacked as his gaze shifted about the bar patrons, one by one, until it fell upon a man who stared back for an awkward amount of time. He was well dressed in linens that still kept their fine seams and rich colors and it was obvious simply by his mannerisms and the way he carried himself that he was a moneyed individual. When the man stood, Leif hesitated briefly before looking to the door and planning his escape, unsure what to expect or why anyone like this stranger would want to mingle with a common laborer. When he came to stand at Leif's side, he displayed and rested atop the bar a sheathed short sword, the hilt marked in Tyrean runes and the engraved symbol of a smaller "L" overlapping a larger "S" upon the pummel.
________"Is this yours," questioned the gentleman as he seated himself upon the nearest stool.
________"I forged it, if that's what you mean," replied Leif, motioning the bartender over to refill the tankard before him. It was unmistakably his work, though it bothered him greatly that he had ever told anyone his name to begin with; all it would bring is more trouble, like this character.
________"Is there something I can help you with?" Chuckling, the well dressed man at Leif's side retrieved the weapon, examining it a final time, and slung the leather strapped sheath over his shoulder before motioning the bartender nearer and ordering himself a drink.
________"The question you should be asking," commented the stranger, "is if we can help each other." Noticing Leif's reluctancy, the Tyrean's eyes darting to the door once more as he questioned in his mind if now was a time to run or to listen, the well fashioned Vhalurian rose a hand to comfortingly pat the smith on a broad, muscular shoulder.
________"Hear me out, this could serve you well."

________"How did it make you feel," questioned the Vhalurian, as he rose from the jutting outcrop of rock he'd previously been seated. Pipe in hand, and the herbs packed adequately within, he sleepily walked nearer the fire pit Leif was crouched beside.
________"How did it make me feel?! How do you think!"
________"I don't know, Leif, I've never killed anyone before. Surely you felt something," replied Nathan, as he reached to the ground and plucked from its possession a lengthened and thinned wooden twig. Leif's first reaction was something that frightened his companion, in the twisted expression of a person who had been betrayed and had murderous revenge in the forefront of their thoughts, and as he stood from his place upon the ground, the dried meat of his breakfast flung across the forest clearing, the Vhalurian remained brave and unfaltering. Leif came to stand before the outdoorsman, his chest heaving at a wild tempo, his fists clenching and releasing in a steady yet slowing rhythm, and placed himself directly in the awkward position of his friends' personal space. The two stood nose to nose long enough for Leif to readjust his emotions and bring the hastened pace of his breathing to a more normalized yet exhausted pace.
________"Just answer the question."
________"It's not that easy," spoke the Tyrean, shaking his head as if simply contemplating the subject had caused the stir of something buried deep and long forgotten, as though the memory was a shuffling abomination of a corpse he was struggling to keep imprisoned in its grave. Against his better judgment, he exhaled deeply and began to dig.
________"It felt - it felt," he stumbled a moment, his brow furrowed as the volume of his voice began to increase. Nathan placed a consoling hand upon his shoulder and Leif responded violently, almost in a flash, adorned by the wicked grimace of someone who took pleasure in hurting those who least expected it, the terrible visage of a sadist and a butcher. A balled fist caught Nathan savagely in the chin and brought him to the ground as blood sprayed in a mist amongst the air, an abrupt fountain of sanguinity. He was shouting when he began to speak, his feet carrying him a step forward before taking another several back.
________"It felt liberating! It felt like victory! It felt like waking to the sound of my fathers' voice for the first time," he continued to yell, his feet carrying him in an aimless toil of emotion, encircling their small camp before he came to a complete stop and blinked his eyes, as though a notion beyond epiphany had struck that disturbed his heated fervor. For a moment he stared at Nathan upon the ground and shook his head, displeased by the course of action that had displayed itself.
________"It felt like answering a strangled whisper to hear silence - nothing in return." Nathan stirred upon the ground, raising a hand to his bloodied mouth and pulling it away to assess the damage. His fingers were painted in it, glistening crimson in the morning light, and as he tugged himself to his feet he spat a wad of the thickened concoction freely into the woods.
________"You're not as horrible as you make yourself out to be, Leif," commented the Vhalurian, a soft chuckle causing the brief declaration of humor to end with a resounding wince, "and you can't live in the shadows of your failures for the rest of your life. Did you ever stop to wonder if that feeling, that "liberation" you declared, was a sign of your struggle to break free?"
________"Freedom from what, Nakhir?"
________"Freedom from yourself, you stubborn bastard. Freedom from your family, from this curse you've been claiming destroyed your Clan and your humanity. Has it ever crossed your mind that killing Olan saved your life?" The expression Leif wore changed from exhausted and angered to lost and frightened almost immediately after the words lifted from Nathan's lips and rode the calm, refreshing current of the wind to his ears.
________"I don't believe in fate, Leif - you of all people know this. Perhaps your brother didn't know it, and maybe he still doesn't, but Olan sacrificed himself so you could come to realize your good nature. That victory you felt? That victory was a decision, a choice that YOU made, to break from this "veirsik" and state clearly to yourself and to the world: you are not a murderer, you are not cursed, but you are a man, and as all men, you have made mistakes." Leif scoffed and continued to shake his head, pushing past Nathan in a flurry to remove himself from the camp and his presence. This was too difficult and his Vhalurian friend had no idea how deep or how dangerous it was to delve into his graveyard of memories.
________"Prove them all wrong, Leif. Don’t allow fate to guide your hand." Dropping to kneel beside the fire as the lumbering Tyrean strode with haste, he dipped the end of the twig still in his hand into the pits heated coals and rested his pipe between blood-caked lips.
________"All in good time, all in good time," he reassuringly whispered to himself, as he brought the lit twig to the fauna packed bowl and set it aflame.

________"It's been a long while since we last met, Leif, son of Skeifr," stated the Jarl, recently turned Regent of Vhaluran. He was right to assume that Vhaluran was one of the last places Leif would want to settle after his exile, but it was obvious he had his reasons. He longed for the icy shores of Tyris on a daily basis.
________"I hadn't expected to see you either. I was hoping I wouldn't, actually," Leif responded, holding back his desire to make offhand or petty comments regarding the fall of their homeland. The Regent furrowed his brow sternly and grunted, seating himself within one of the lonely thrones at the end of the delicate and intricately weaved carpet. Their voices resounded like echoes in a tomb, reverberating off the stone walls and dancing between the pillars that lined the opposite wings of the empty, royal hall. Leif imagined briefly a moment in history when this room would have been filled to the doors with peasantry seeking guidance or assistance, guards, and officials; their ghouls still haunted the chamber.
________"I'm a bit surprised to find you in Vhaluran, of all places. How long have you been here, and why," inquired the Regent.
________"Several years ago I met a man who saved my life named Nathan. He promised me that if I were to return one day to Vhaluran he would find me, and we would make our path together," Leif noted, a well dressed and notably gorgeous woman quietly taking her place aside the walking carpet. He hadn't even heard her enter the large, open room, and for a moment he wondered if she had been there all along. The exiled Tyrean briefly turned his attention toward her before jerking his vision back to the throned Regent. There was something about beautiful women that would normally bring a smile to his lips, not due to otherwise uncouth or degrading desires, but rather that they reminded him of his beloved Nikolina. However, this occasion in particular brought a sense of shame when he attempted to meet her line of sight that he had not experienced since the day he was ousted from his Tyrean home.
________"Ah, Lady Alexandrie. Nice of you to join us, perhaps you could help me with something," asked the Jarl. She seemed hesitant at first yet dipped her head in a gracefully subtle bow.
________"This man is Leif Skeifrson, an exile from Tyris many years ago. He's been residing in Vhaluran under surveillance for a short while now, and it places me in an odd position." Alexandrie seemed to understand the scenario even before Skuldson had finished speaking, nodding briefly while she considered the predicament. Were they to execute a Tyrean exile for finding peace in another land, the placement of Tyrean officials in the Vhalurian government bringing with them the laws and expectancies of their own nation? Or were they to simply let him go under a watchful eye, cautious of his presence and awaiting the moment he fell into old behaviors? Leif could see them both calculating the possibilities and outcomes, as though he were part of some cold equation designed to make lives easier for those in the position to judge.
________"Perhaps you could shed some light for her, Leif," interrogated Thorunn, "as to why you were banished in the first place." Leif was hesitant to speak, his focus shifting to the thin threaded rug beneath his feet. He found his hands fiddling idly in the space before him in a nervous fit, seemingly unsure whether or not he had the courage to speak, especially with Alexandrie present. She and Nikolina looked similar in many ways, sharing both remarkable beauty and a natural presence of compassion.
________"I'm cursed," responded Leif. Nathan would have been disappointed with this admittance.
________"Yes, but why were you banished," replied Thorunn. A long, uncomfortable pause followed, and sweat began to bead upon the exiles brow. He didn't mind the questions so much as he was bothered by the answers, and as his mind drifted to a time and place that could have been, somewhere in the between, he thought of the life he could have shared, and the children he would have raised, with Nikolina.
________"I'm unstable, and I'm a murderer." Alexandrie seemed shocked at first, the contortion of her face quickly reversing as she maintained the sophisticated and dignified reaction of a woman in her station.
________"Perhaps you should tell me the whole story," softly spoke her melodic voice, its sincerity tinged with regret and a general sense of curiosity.
________"Tell the story from his perspective," questioned Leif, raising a finger to point at the seated Tyrean as his gaze hardened further and discontent swept his expressions, "or my own?" The Noblewoman not far from his side tilted her head ever so slightly, puzzled to find him brashly defiant even in this dire moment.
________"Your own, please," she beckoned, moving a step nearer where he stood. For a moment he wanted to reach out and caress her cheek, to feel that moment of relief when, in the days of his young adulthood, he would return from voyages at sea and meet the loving embrace of his bride to be. When reality struck, he couldn't help but stare blankly at the woman before him and struggle to find the words that could appropriately explain the course of events that lead to his descent of madness and misery.