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My mother’s hair is
red, like the blood that bonds us together…
Her
covered hands worked against his scalp, gently massaging him as she changed his
hair color. His eyes were closed, unable to see the world as he began his
transformation. Captain Seawolf had to die, at least for a while until those
who cared that he lived forgot him or thought he was gone. He had to look like
someone else. Cristianno was a fugitive; a traitor to the Horde.
Captain Seawolf had to die.
It
was Laerchel’s plan. They would lose the ship, but Cris didn’t care since it
was stolen. He had to lose his tattoos and noticeable scars. He had to lose his
hair. The idea of being someone else bothered him.
It
bothered his pride.
“There
you are,” she said, her voice ever so soft. She knew how much it hurt him, and when
she showed him the looking glass, he was someone else. He didn’t say a word.
His blue-green eyes simply looked away and closed. Cris didn’t want to see
anymore of the new elf in front of him.
My markings are images
of where I’ve been and who I am…
He
wanted the tattoo around his neck to disappear. Tia had drawn it and he wanted
that troll dead. The dragon around his left arm symbolized his life as a
pirate, as well as the skull and crossbones on his right arm. The wolf was his
totem and he made sure that wasn’t erased. Everything else was covered up. He
felt as if he wasn’t himself anymore. His skin looked practically flawless. He
was a new man; a new pirate. Those adventures he had and adored were nothing
more but memories. Seawolf was dead.
Alaia
had told him that they were merely hidden, so that one day, Seawolf could
possibly emerge again. Then again, he could have new adventures and become
someone completely different. The idea was starting to inch into his mind.
My scars are my
reminders that I am not eternal…
The
scar on his chest, the scars on his belly, the scars on his arms and back. All
gone. Most importantly, the scar around his neck was less visible. Yes, it was
still there. Losing one’s head is a serious injury, but his head was fused
together with dark magic; with voodoo. The injury was so immense, that the scar
remained once the priestess cleansed his body. Cris winced and whimpered as the
Light magic passed through him, but most of the scars were gone.
My past will be laid
to rest…
That
night, after all was done and as they slept, Alaia held on to his torso tightly.
All he could do was stay awake and think about what was about to happen next.
He touched his neck and felt the scar circling around him. That would never
change. He had been brought back from the dead for a mistake he kept repeating
over and over.
He looked down at his new lover and
gently caressed her head. Things were going to be different. He was going to be
different. The women of his past will be memories he will keep with him at all
times. All but one escaped him. Would he dare to think of her with Alaia
around? Would he go out and look for her. Would she find him and demand him
ship out cargo? He technically still worked for her and her organization, but
would she still need him? There were many desperate sailors out there looking
for gold pieces. What would she say about the new pirate he had become?
…but does any of it
matter anymore?
Her
soft fingertips caressed his chest as she continued to sleep. Cris needed sleep
too, but he hadn’t taken his potion yet. He wanted a few more minutes before he
decided to sleep; A few more minutes to say goodbye to the world he once knew.
When he woke up the next morning, he would be a new man. But, what would be his
name? Would he mind telling others from now on? Will Alaia mind telling the
world who her lover is? Would he mind? Would he have to live his new life in
secrecy? Or be like normal others and share his life freely and proudly?
Cris
swallowed the potion and soon, his eyes became heavy and he was starting to
fall asleep. Tomorrow, he would be someone else. He wasn’t sure who, but it
would be a brand new man.
I will make my mark in
this forsaken world.
O.O
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