Thomas
Dorin

“I am the old man, also known as Dorin the conqueror of Terros, pleasure to make your acquaintance, now time for tea.” Dorin spoke with eloquence as he introduced himself. He poured Thomas a cup of hot tea, in a graceful arch, then gently placed the ceramic pot upon the warming stove. The sightless Dorin was a warrior of old his scared and mangled body spoke of many a fight victorious. The man before Thomas, sipping a cup of tea, was made of myth and legend. Thomas’s mind ran like a child through a field, free, and excited for the next bit of information.

“My name is Dorin and I lived. This my son is why I will not lead you to death, but I will help you live. I have many scars and wounds that never heal but each pain is a reminder that I am alive. I fought the Deadly mount Terros and all its inhabitants but I did it to live not to meet death. Death waits for us to walk lovingly into his arms, not I, I elected to force him to hunt me. Thomas your heart is true and your mind eager. I will teach your body to be prepared for life’s lessons, and just as I fought so that I may one day face my demons so shall you. Will you follow me to victory, Thomas?” As Dorin spoke his eyes glowed with the memory of the adventures he faced and the fear in facing them once more. Dorin knew he was Thomas’s only hope and if he did nothing Thomas would go none-the-less and die trying. Dorin spoke of life once more, “What do you have to live for, Thomas, and a girl who can never be yours is not the answer.” Thomas was unsure how to respond to the wise old man. So instead he said nothing. “I see you have nothing to live for. Then I will teach you how to live.” With that he held out a bed roll for Thomas and walked into his tiny bedroom not to be seen until the dawn. He did not want an answer tonight his bones cried for rest and Thomas needed to contemplate his options.

Laying in the silent cabin with only the sound of crackling wood from the fire, Thomas began to think about Annalise and her heavenly laugh, green glittering emerald eyes and soft pink lips. He wanted to live for her, but she was only a memory now. His Annalise was his ghost, haunting his soul and filling his dreams. He sunk into a haunted, restless sleep with only the sound of her name lingering on his lips, Annalise.

As the sun arose on the horizon so did Dorin he slowly moved his old bones through the house as if he could see the world as clear as if his sightless eyes were once more keen-sighted. Gracefully gliding past the table to meet the oven he began a choreographed dance through his breakfast routine. Thomas awoke to the smell of bacon and eggs gliding upon the soft autumn breeze they sat softly simmering upon the cast iron stove. He rose with the speed of a starving man quickly cleaning up his bedroll and sleeping cloths. Thomas’s stomach grumbled and groaned alerting Dorin of his presence. Dorin he spoke to the young lad.

“Good Morning, son, you must eat, it is going to be a long day. Today you begin to live.” Dorin let out a hearty laugh as he spoke these words. Dorin stood from the table and stretched his old bones the cracks and creaks were audible in the tiny hut. Dorin only laughed again this time a much weaker laugh ending in a ragged cough. This laughter concerned Thomas, but he was too thrilled to be on a new adventure, he quickly dismissed his concerns. Thomas ate quickly yet still savoring almost every bite, he thought of what kinds of training this old hero would bestow upon him. Thomas quickly followed the old man to the beckoning sun he would soon begin his first step in living.