Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25038310-20160529172721/@comment-7203512-20160604080859

"Papa would always take me out for a walk along the Iliac Bay, you know." Hastrel said, his face lit by a dim candle resting upon a dusty wooden chair, "It was one of them days when we went fishing, and this is when... well, you know..."

He paused, touching the tip of the candle's flame, sadness written all over his face. Aelwin sat near on the dirty rug, his legs crossed, staring at the light.

"They took me to the orphanage in Wayrest. But I didn't like it there. Nobody did..." Hastrel scratched his head and sighed in relief after a few moments to shrug off the saddening atmosphere of their late night conversation, "W-well, a lot of things happened since we last met."

The scene felt unsettlingly familiar to young Hawksly; it felt like he was reliving moments of his childhood. With clenched fists, he looked at Hastrel and stood up, slowly retreating to the unlit corner of the shack. He spent a few seconds staring at his friend before the latter caught a glimpse of his strange actions, furrowing a brow and perching on the chair to stand up, keeping eye contact with Aelwin.

"You're not real." Aelwin muttered, his hand instinctively reaching out towards the blade that he'd have dangling on his hip if he wasn't trapped within the maddening dream of his.

"You okay?.. Ever since we met, you've never been the same, Hawk..."

Aelwin made a few steps along the wall towards the shambling wooden door; the wind whistling through the holes blew the candle's flame away, leaving the two in complete darkness, moonlight hardly piercing the shack's roof.

"You're not real." Aelwin shook his head as he placed his hand behind him and on the door's handle. He felt his grip loosen as the door opened with a loud, echoing creak, followed by Hastrel's yelp and the ringing sound of a shovel hitting Hawksly's head once, before the young Breton came plummeting on the floor, his vision hazy and blurring.