Eridus's story

She smiled politely at me, the dear girl, as I watched her wind her way through the sprawl of drinkers and merrymakers. Caught halfway between the tender hands of youth and womanhood, her walk held the shyness that came with her transformation, as if she were not yet confident in her own skin. I watched her gaze linger on my own before she quickly turned away, blushing as if she had been caught doing something unspeakable. I could see her bite her lower lip, trying to hids a smirk fueled by delight or curiosity, or both.

  Someone had noticed her, the young woman, and it mattered not who that person was, nor where their intentions layed, simply that the attention had been given to someone who was obviously seeking approval for the way she was, like most other girls her age. Hardly expecting any kind of gratitude for my mindset, I mused, my interest in the girl remained on a purely platonic level, a fleeting one at that, rather than anything of substance. I doubted, however, that the same could be said for the vast majority of male patrons in the tavern that evening. It was highly probable that thir intentions were far less harmless than mine. At her age, her reaction was only natural, regardless of what danger her hormones put her in.

  My heart felt heavy, weighted with time and the path I had chosen to walk in life, though I appeared hardly a year older than the young woman. How looks could deceive. How tired I was of the lie. By fate or chance, I had remained unchanged for longer than I cared to recall, though each day brought with it new dangers.

  When one lives perpetually, it is hard not to gain enemies, whether it be through deliberate action or a mere slip of the tongue.

* * *

  My name, as it is, hardly matters. Over the ages I have been known by as many names as the people I have dispatched, swindled or otherwise delt with. That is to say, more than I care to recall. The name I was born with, however, is Eridus. Eridus Vwyerden Harlath, named after my great, great grandfather Eridus H'wthnor Harlath. Or so I have been told. There are few thing I believe in life nowadays, for there are few truths and fewer still who will speak them.

  I am no more than a pawn in a great game, guided by what seems to be, at times, a gentle and mothering hand. Or, at least, that is how some see the matter. On the same breath, I am thrust into sutiations beyond my own imagining, given a history all but incomprehenible and meet characters too remarkable for my own mind, yet not for she who created me. One might say, at this point in time, I am edging further and further from philosophy and drawing closer to the religious, but for one who has no life, no thought and no consiousness, save for that which he is given, my feelings towards she who has created whom I am today... I have no choice but, for the sake of my life, to consider myself a religious man dedicated to her cause. One might say and, indeed, believe that, as a creation stemming from the mind of a young woman, I would have no life but that which she gives me. I beg to differ on the grounds that, as much as I am bound to partaking in the actions she condemns me to, she herself is bound to me. I am the thought that races through her mind perpetually. I am the one that walks her dreams. Dare I say, perhaps I am the one she longs for. I have a freedom of my own, in a sense, for as much as I am bound to her wishes, so she is bound to my cause.

  As she is the writer, I am her brainchild.

* * *

  I have been informed I had a childhood once. By no means was it a particularly pleasant childhood towards the end of my time with my family, but it was a childhood nonetheless. I have also been informed that, at times, I act like little more than a child, but that, simply put, is a matter regarding my author's own opinion and hardly reflects my own.

  One would think that, with what has proved to be an insightful imagination on her behalf, my creator would have given some thought into providing me with a more pleasant childhood if I were to be simply thrust into a harsh world soon after. Perhaps it would have been nice to know a moment of respite from the cuelties of the world before having to juggle them in hands that, at some stages, proved to be almost incapable of the task.

  Eridus, please. Not now. Jet me enjoy my coffee at least once. This happens to be a particularly good one that someone has been kind enough to make for me. That doesn't happen often. Do you know I don't often drink coffee, don't you?

  Ah, my mistake. How could the thought of ruining your coffee-consuming experience ever cross my mind? Particularly when it is placed in comparison with my fractured youth, fraught with...

Oh, will you stop that. Honestly. I thought I made you one who thought before you opened your mouth. There is reason behind everything, not needless cruelty. Stop acting so hard done by.

  Acting hard done by? All I see is madness without reason. I hardly recall my early days. You never bothered telling me where I was born, the name of my parents or what my first years were like! All I remember were the tales I was made to tell others of how my brother died, how I was taken away from my family and how their blood was on my hands! You think I have no right to find out about a history I was never told? A history that was never written?

  Eridus, I had my reasoning.

  You mean there was some kind of other motive behind your pen, other than to provide personal amusement for yet another mediocre ameteur writer? You cannot simply bring a character to life, make them dance when you feel it is needed and then leave them in the dark.

  Now that was just harsh. There was no need for that at all. If you would just let me explain, you would see where I'm coming from.

  I fail to see how...

  Eridus, please. Just take a deep breath here. Do it. Or I'll make you. Your childhood was by no means easy for you, I know. For this I am sorry, but you must understand that it was your childhood that made you the person you are today. If you had not been strong enough to overcome the events of your youth, you would have surely crumbled under the pressure of your present life. Can you see my point?

  I... I'm trying to. Wasn't there some other way? I didn't want to be this way. Why did you have to put me through so much? I didn't want to end up cold and callous.

  Have a closer look, dear. Read between the lines. You're perfect. You've enough grit and persistance to not only get the job done, but to also get it done to the very best of your ability. It's that constant striving for perfection that makes you so valuable. You have your moments of darkness when you know something needs to be done, and to think too deeply on the issue would only complicate the matter, but you've morals and a sense of dignity that pushes you to always do what is right. Can't you see? Your childhood gave you a light-heartedness and a sense of humour that pulls you through the darkest moments and brings light into the lives of others. You've got a warm heart, Eridus. I have seen many fall for that alone.

  I don't understand... hang on. You know my name as your character, but you've never told me yours. What is it?

My name? Why would you want to know that?"

  It's a trust thing. And I'm curious.

  Sarah.

  Sarah? That's Hebrew for princess. Are you a princess?

  No, Eridus. I'm not a princess. When I was a young girl, I used to dream I was one, though. Far away from the world I knew, far away from all the things I hated and feared.

  Was your childhood like mine?

  Not exactly.

  What do you mean?

  Everyon has their own trials to go through. Some more than others. It's what makes us stronger people.

  What did you have to go through?

  Eridus, last I checked we were discussing your childhood, not mine.

  I'm just looking for common ground, that's all.