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brotherinlaw -> RE: Spoopy Stories to tell at the Inn (10/1/2019 20:46:15)
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Here's my story:
A Mother's Love
Once upon a time, there was a woman and her son. The woman loved her son, and the son adored his mother. The child was kind, thoughtful, and loved throughout the village for his kindness and a wisdom beyond his years. The mother was hardworking and resourceful, working with local merchants, mages and doctors, accruing resources and texts for their work. It was a grueling, never-ending enterprise, with ends just barely being met in the end. Yet she endured.
Such is a mother’s love.
The child, while beloved, was a strange boy. Often, he would talk to no-one, seemingly conversing with the very air itself. He always played by himself, yet told others of his many friends. He had a knack for logic and reason, ending fights and solving conflicts while others his age played. He was excellent at finding what is missing. While loved by all the villagers, still many was the odd look and muffled whisper when he wasn’t looking. The mother noticed, both these oddities and the sideways glances, but ignored it all.
Such is a mother’s love.
One day, an occurrence came that could not be ignored. The child walked down the street, as always, yet he was not alone. Beside the child walked a small dog. The dog was no stranger to the town. Little, white, still but a pup, the dog was to grow up a hunter. The dog belonged to the local butcher, and had walked that road alongside its master many a night. From a long line of hunting dogs, many remembered the mother, who had died not long ago.
Many remembered the day its master buried the mother, alongside its only pup.
Whispers became shouts, confusion gave way to fear. This was demonic, witchcraft, necromancy. The boy, he tried to defend the pup. He told the villagers of his friend, invisible to all but him. A friend who had seen the child crying, and asked him what was wrong. A friend who, seeing his grief, chose to alleve it by bringing the pup back.
Fear turned to anger. The child knew flame, before the mother tore him away, scarring herself.
Such is a mother’s love.
The mother did all she could. In all her years, she had acquired knowledge from her clientele. Yet no matter how hard she worked, The child would not wake up. No matter what she tried, he was still cold. No matter what she used, his chest never rose. And yet she tried, and tried again. No matter the sacrifice, no matter the price, she would never give up.
Such is a mother’s love.
Suddenly, there came a bright light. It was the boy’s friend, revealing himself and all his glory. The friend spoke to the mother, sharing her grief. He spoke of the boy’s kindness, having found him and protecting him from those that would harm him. He also spoke of regret, of how his attempt to help the child had instead led to him suffering. An offering was made, anything he could give the mother, would be hers, as penance for what he had done. The mother accepted.
Such is a mother’s love.
Quickly, she set to work. Burnt torn skin was stripped away, then replaced with shining flesh.
Such is a mother’s love.
Bones were put into place, cut to fit the boys frame. Blood was drained, and golden ichor in its place.
Such is a mother’s love.
Organs were put into place. Blue eyes were made to be gold. Feathered limbs were sewed into position. Even grey, where it had rotted, was transplanted from one to the other.
Such is a mother’s love.
Standing back, the mother beheld her work. The boy lay there anew. Now, she could only hope, and pray to those whom her actions betray.
Slowly, changes took place. A finger twitched, blood returned to the pale features, its chest began to rise and fall. Finally, the eyes opened, so slowly, glowing a dark, glittery golden.
And then it screamed.
And it screamed.
It screamed, sensing with divine senses the boy never possessed everything that was wrong with it.
It screamed, as impure soul burned in the perfect majesty of a body belonging to a being of absolute good.
It screamed, as only a soul denied death and selfishly drug from peace into the cruel world can scream.
The mother realized then what she had done. She had caused her child to suffer. She had wrenched him from sleep, returning him to agony. She knew what had to be done. She took her tools, and reached for the boys’ throat.
Such is a mother’s love.
The story from here, no-one knows. Some say the child’s death-wail drove the villager’s insane, causing them to destroy themselves. Some say the Church of light came, killed the beast, wiped out the villagers, and burned the mother, restoring right to the world. Others say the child killed his mother in reflex, then lashed out at the villagers, and finally took his own life for what he had done.
One thing is assured, no-one left that village again.
Yet a rumor remains among the locals. A tale of a man, fair-skinned and beautiful. When a child is lost in the woods, they may return with tales of this man, golden eyed and very kind. Some are said to acquire a treasure: A white feather, almost luminescent and with a golden hue. Perhaps the boy survived, still kind and still helpful. Perhaps he’s taken his second chance, given to him by a love so strong, even death dared not stand against it.
Such is a mother’s love.
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