KiAN's Doodles

[Origin] (WIP) Rag grew up under the care of the ________________ after he was given to them by his parents. The village by the sea worships ______________ and all children are required to be Dedicated since young. As such, the relationship between his parents and him is not close, but he still pays them a visit from time to time. Unfortunately, during his time in the parochial school, he was always the target of bullying because of his small build, quietness and having “sharp ears like a bush pig” as a part of being a half elf. He had trouble making friends with others who were afraid to be associated with him as well. Even so, Rag did not stop being friendly and kind, albeit a little awkward and unsure sometimes.

[Defining Event] The loud siren rang endlessly, it was a sound that still makes him uneasy even until today. Every one woke up confused, but Rag saw at the corner of the window facing the sea, tall waves in the distance moving in seemingly in a slow pace. It was unlike anything he had seen before. The waves were ten times taller than the highest five stories clock tower in the village. It was horrifying, especially in the darkness.

When the others saw that too, they began to panic. The teachers came in soon after, asking them to immediately pack up everything they need and evacuate to a safe place further inland that was created by the elders and seal the entrance to the village. When they left the building, Rag realized there were many villagers who cannot make it out in time, encumbered by their belongings and old age. He joined the few volunteers to help out, trying to convince the villagers to leave behind everything. For those who had trouble walking, he carried them up the hills far enough so that they can be assisted to the entrance in time. Every time he turned around, he could see the dark waves closing in. There was not much time left.

When the villagers were evacuated, the volunteers began going inland towards the seal entrance, and they motioned Rag frantically to join them as well, but there was one more person left. His father, the elven outcast who was badly injured in the spine many years ago, and was bedridden ever since. Rag’s mother told him tearfully that his father was still in the house, and so he went without hesitation. His father rejected his help, demanding that he leave and save himself, but Rag forcefully carried him anyway. The front part of the village had already been devoured by the waves, and they were coming in fast. Rag ran for both his and his father’s life, ignoring the ringing in his ears and the fatigue that was catching up as well. As soon as they reached the entrance, Rag passed his father to the people at the other side of the entrance, and stayed back at the seal, disregarding his father’s protests. There was only one way to seal the entrance of the village and isolate the waves from the people. The last one in the village have to stay behind to finish the seal. Rag gave everyone a tiny smile before the waves reached him when he did it. Normally, the last one can go pass the seal after this, but Rag was dragged by the raging waves into the sea immediately afterwards and was impaled by several sharp stakes and debris of the destroyed houses and fences in the process.

He died. Or that was how some interpreted it.

He was knocked out in between the incident and waking up on the shoreline. Within that period, he was allowed an audience within a dreamscape. His actions had been commended non-verbally, but a simple question was asked, "Do you serve?" The voice, undetermined of its intentions but lingers with a warm and calming presence to it. To him, it felt alien... yet... familiar and welcoming at the same time. There was a nurturing presence to it, and he was strongly drawn to it. "Yes." He submitted without equivocation, the most direct and sincere answer. "It is done... It's time to wake up, there are those in need of your aid, life awaits you. Go forth, my emissary."

Rag woke up laying on his side on the sand along the shoreline. Gentle waves rolling in from the sea reached his black hair. He attempted to move but immense pain suddenly erupted from his chest and shoulders as his senses returned. As he stared down at his injuries, he became aware of the wooden debris and sharp stakes still lodged in his body. After some struggle, he sat up eventually. With bated breath, he pulled out the stakes and debris, groaning in the process. Blood gushed out from the punctured wounds, and he desperately tried to hold the pressure. Then, he remembered his otherworldly experience, and muttered a string of soft but steady healing words directed to his wounds. They healed. He looked at his hands, and then to the sky with a meaningful gaze.