|Nicknames: Sammy, Sam|
|Sexuality: Up for debate|
|Social Status: Rogue|
|Playby: Oscar Jaenada|
|Jewels & Craft|
|Birthright Jewel: Yellow (69)|
|Offering Jewel: Broken|
|Strengths: Samuel had a fairly firm grasp of Craft, thanks to his mother’s care, before he fell into the Twisted Kingdom. He learned Basic Craft quickly and easily and knows how to call in, float and vanish items, as well as how to speak on the Threads. Witchlight and witchfire are two things that he enjoyed learning about and over which he has a fairly good control, even now. Shields are another thing he is good at, in so far as the strength of them isn’t taken into account. Most particularly his aural shields are quite good. Simple offensive Craft, such as quick Jewel blasts or fast killing strikes are still something Sammy is comfortable with as well, but again, the small strength of his Jewels comes into play when he is fighting those stronger than himself.|
|Weaknesses: As a man lost in the Twisted Kingdom, Sam’s control and use of Craft is severely diminished, but not completely removed. He does tend to use Craft less than he used to, either forgetting its availability or simply preferring not to. Before he was lost however, he already didn’t know a whole lot about a great deal of Craft. Black Widow web weaving, Priestess magic and a Healer’s useful knowledge are all things he was, and still is, pretty much entirely ignorant of. Hearth Craft too. The one, most major change in his use of Craft now compared with then is his hesitance to use a defensive, psychic shield. As though he recognises that the last time he used anything of the sort, something bad happened.|
Samuel is a fairly quiet fellow, for the most part. He can become, for all intents and purposes, perfectly mute should the mood take him. And it will on occasion. Not because he is afraid to talk, or because he has nothing to say, but simply because he doesn’t want to say anything. And taking the time to explain this to someone would defeat the whole purpose of not talking. Clearly… It has to do with the noise level in his head, and usually comes about after he’s woken up or been doing something that doesn’t require a lot of thought. When his mind is still dazed, he likes to keep it that way for as long as possible, because he finds his thoughts are clearer then. The moment he talks, or has to listen to someone else talking, they get muddled, and then they just get more and more muddled until he finds something else dazing to do. That same quiet transfers into his expression of how he feels, because talking is talking, whether or not he is telling someone he’s happy to see them or to get out of the house. He’d much prefer to show than to tell. Although, he is well aware that sometimes this isn’t possible, he still gets huffy if forced to break his silence before he’s ready to. However, if he’s given the chance to come out of his shell, so to speak, on his own time, than he ordinarily won’t have any trouble speaking. He might not make a whole lot of sense, but he’ll talk.
At least, he’ll talk with the people he knows. With anyone else, he’ll generally just stare until it becomes clear they’re worth him putting forth the effort. Sam tends to judge people through their interaction with his brother and sister, believing that how they act with him isn’t how they really are. And, while he’s likely at least partly right in that assumption, it’s probably not for the reasons he thinks. Personally, he has no idea that he’s in the Twisted Kingdom. He isn’t even fully aware that it’s a possibility. So he couldn’t connect different behaviour around him to people worrying about his state of mind. Instead, he believes that it is because he isn’t worth nearly as much as anyone else. Or rather, he feels that he is less than he should be, that people keep seeing him wrong. And he does have a fairly good list to back up that theory: he wasn’t enough for his father, both his mother and the man he turned to to act as a surrogate father agreed with that, and then his brother decided he wasn’t strong enough to fight his own battles. He’s always been a little pissy about that, because how is he going to prove to anyone that he actually can do something if they won’t let him?
He managed to get over his jealousy a few years after their father died, but it hasn’t stopped him from being frustrated with the whole thing. And he tends to express that frustration the way most any wilful person will. He acts out. Not always obviously, but he does have a tendency to try and do things on his own. At least, the things he deems important, without needing to be told. This has the consequence of having him disappear on occasion. If you can’t beat it, run away from it. Or of making messes…
For almost as long as he can remember, Samuel has been trying to make someone see that he isn’t as pathetic as they seem to think. And each setback, or moment in which he seemingly proves them right instead of wrong, just adds to his determination to make them see. Most particularly his brother, because it is his brother who is currently having far too many doubts about his capabilities, as far as he is concerned. He’s sort of locked into that mode now though, so even were anyone to tell him that fine, they get it, he can be independent and more useful than not, he’d just think they were being patronizing, or something. It doesn’t really help his case, but the simple fact of the matter is that if he didn’t have someone looking out for him these days, he probably wouldn’t make it very far. So whether or not he believes they are misguided in their attempts doesn’t matter, but he still gets irritated by it.
That irritation, when combined with his preferring to show rather than tell, has the, likely expected, result of him being rather prone to throwing fits. Sometimes the flailing kind and sometimes the sulking kind, they’re difficult to predict, but at least when he gets violent it doesn’t usual last long. He’s something of a child that way, for all he’s close to thirty, and will use these fits to emphasize his point, get what he wants or to express his more negative emotions. Unfortunately, unlike many children, he has an awful lot more patience and control, and if he’s pouting up in a tree because someone told him he can’t go look for a horse without company, and that said company doesn’t have time to go with him, he could stay up there for a day or two, rain or shine. He doesn’t really realise that this is strange behaviour for someone his age; he just knows that it’s worked more than it hasn’t. Funnily enough, despite him not always liking what he hears, Sammy does have a tendency to follow along with what he’s been told. Maybe not exactly, but if he isn’t supposed to go somewhere, then he won’t. If he has to do something, then he’ll do it. Maybe once, maybe ten times, but he’ll do it. And usually he’ll do it right. Keeping him inside, however, is rather more difficult, even if someone’s watching him. Inside, to him, is boring if there’s nothing to do. Because there’s nothing to see that he hasn’t seen before, and walls are boring to look at.
Samuel is a wild man. Not in that he always acts unpredictable or crazy, but in that he quite enjoys the outdoors. He has that sense about him, when he is outside, that it is where he is supposed to be. He’s had that feeling all his life, and being crazy apparently didn’t get rid of it. He likes the wilds, and he feels comfortable in them. Anyone who knows him, even just a little bit, will know that he fits far more outside than inside. In fact, he is probably more wild now, or more obviously so anyway, than before he dropped into the Twisted Kingdom. Because being crazy hasn’t separated him from reality so much as it’s stretched things a little. He’ll still recognise people, and he’ll still be more wary of those he doesn’t. He still remembers most of what he learned growing up, and he can still learn now. It’s just that his mind creates illusions about the way things look, though not what they are. The real trouble is that he perceives things a little differently and has lost his inhibitions about reacting the way he really wants to react. As such, he doesn’t hide his feelings and he is quite open with displays of affection, as much as with displays of jealousy or wariness, joy or sorrow. And he is quite blunt with his words.
Strange, isn’t it?
How there are always footsteps to follow in? Even when the path is so heavily packed down you’d hardly see a scuff mark?
But following those ruts makes life easier, you just put one foot in front of the other and you already know where to put them. Easy, simple, a sham… But not always unwarranted…
The Iregi rogues are as much a part of who the Vargas family is as the Vargas are a part of the Iregi rogues. So for Fallony Vargas, it simply made sense that he grow up as he did, amidst the people who called the wilds of Shalador their home. His father had served with them, had fought with them and raided with them. His grandfather had done the same. As had his great grandfather, there was no reason to leave behind a world in which they were accepted. But Fallony was missing something in that world. Where all he could be was a strong warrior, or a weak one, he chose to be strong, but there was that ambition in him that wanted to be more. Unfortunately, it wasn’t to be, and the man never managed to pick his feet up quite high enough to walk a different path than his forefathers had, he could find no other choice but to work towards a goal he could not reach. And that destroyed him.
But not at all quickly…
Still, the life he led had some mercy in it. And Fallony found love, or at the very least a very good friendship, in Miyana. A young Healer who fell on some very hard times, losing a great deal… He was, perhaps, in just the right place to offer her the support she needed, and for a time, she helped him settle down. In fact, they lived quite well together for three years. Then they married… Not, in itself, so terrible a thing, just an outward, official display of the affection they felt towards each other. That same year, however, Miyana bore a son. He was a strong, healthy son. A young boy any father would have been proud to lay claim to, to have the chance to raise and teach and introduce to the world. And Fallony was, indeed, proud. But maybe, just maybe, he took that pride a step too far and turned it into hope to drive that ambition he’d set aside when Miyana came into his life. They had a daughter too, not too long a time after William was born, and she, in her own way, simply added to the competition.
Amara was a quick study, even as a very young child, she learned fast. And she was always eager to keep up with her older brother. After all, he wasn’t that much older, and she didn’t see any reason why she couldn’t manage what he could, even if their mother tried to protest when those lessons eventually turned to weapon’s play. Miyana’s worry was well-founded, for their father started William’s training almost as soon as the boy could walk. Not with true, sharpened steel, but even wooden sticks can hurt, and boys will be boys. Thankfully, Fallony was not overly interested in training a girl, she was not the one who could help him reach his high ambitions. William, on the other hand, who was turning into a handful of a promising Warlord Prince, was exactly what he needed. So he taught the young lad the art of the blade and field, tutoring him on the laws and conduct of battle, and he didn’t care that the boy didn’t take to the books Miyana tried to press on him in the hopes of having a well-rounded son.
What with having a first-born who could hardly stomach book learning, and a daughter who had a seeming taste for violence, she was likely despairing of ever raising them up properly. At least Amara wasn’t anywhere near as disinterested in the lessons she could learn seated at her mother’s side, with a book open across her knees. Still, it must have been some comfort to her when she had her third child.
Samuel was born four years after his older brother, and he trailed after that boy in just about everything. He was a quiet observer of the life around him as an infant, big eyes staring about and watching everything, from the quick movements of William, to the gentle touch of his mother and slightly more awkward care of his sister and on to the gruff, distant figure he took some time to realise was his father. Early on, he didn’t miss the man, because he wasn’t aware that he should, but as he grew and that distance remained between them and he came to see the closeness between William and Father that was in such stark contrast to the space he felt between them, a slow jealousy woke in him. But it wasn’t there yet when they all went with Will to his Birthright Ceremony. He was only four, and didn’t really understand what was happening, except that they did a lot of standing around while a lady he didn’t know talked and Will knelt beside something called an Altar. It just looked like a funny table to him…
It was in the moments after Will came back to their little group holding a Jewel that he made the connection between the Craft his parents could do and the coloured stones they had. And he smiled at Will for all he was worth, to show that he was happy his brother could do the same thing now, even if he wondered if it made Will an adult now, who would want to do adult things and wouldn’t be bothered with him anymore, like Father. That was when he felt the first pang of jealousy, a childish thing it was then. Nothing more than a selfish desire for that smile on Father’s face to be turned towards him. Still, he had Mother and Amara, he had books and lessons to learn, good distractions until he was old enough for that jealousy to turn into something a little more tangible. Amara’s Birthright, ten months later, left him with the same feeling, only not quite as strong, when she got her own Purple Dusk Jewel. It also left him with the briefly confusing belief that everyone got a Purple Dusk Jewel, until he tried asking Fallony about it anyway, then his father looked at him like he was stupid and Miyana was left to explain to the downtrodden little boy that that wasn’t quite how it worked.
Miyana had been keeping him mostly to herself, which he didn’t really mind, since it gave him the attention any child craves. She’d told Fallony that he had one son and had even incited their daughter into learning violent arts, he could leave his wife one child to raise peacefully. And even though Sammy fretted and fidgeted through his lessons sometimes, that was easily enough solved by taking him outside and making the lessons interactive. He learned his letters by pointing out different aspects of the world while she wrote out their names. And, being a Healer, she knew a fair few of the plants that grew about their small village house. She had a friend too, an old man who would drop by now and then to trade some meat for a piece of civilised food, or one of her concoctions. Alvero was a man of few words and fewer appearances, though he had a dishevelled hut not far from their home, but he treated well with children, and knew even more than Miyana about the plants and animals that lived around them. And when he had the time, he didn’t mind helping out with lessons.
Strangely, despite the biting sense of injustice that was growing in him, Samuel rarely found himself disliking his older brother, and he was always willing to spend time with Amara. Because they were so much closer in age than he was, they never had quite the same rapport with him, he was always the quiet, younger brother tagging along, but they didn’t mistreat him, and they all seemed to complement each other well. Amara and Will were feisty and headstrong, Will had strength and the ability to use it wisely, Amara had intelligence and a sense of competition to help her keep up and Sam could dance circles around them both, on some subjects anyways, by the time he was seven. Well, maybe not dance, but he at least knew the answers to some questions when they didn’t, and that was enough for the young boy. For a while, anyway…
Had those two not bothered to include him in their free time, he might never have discovered quite how much of the world there was to explore beyond the small circle that Miyana had set for him about their home. Samuel took to running off just as soon as lessons were finished, he’d explore the forests and the rocks on the mountainsides. He’d stalk birds and the animals. He’d sit for hours beside a sunning snake, just to see why it was lying there. And it seemed as though he was forever coming across Alvero out searching for him because his mother was worrying herself sick and his father was still off with William. It bothered him that Fallony didn’t seem to care if his younger son had fallen down some hole and starved or broken his head and died. But Alvero was kind enough to distract him with the teachings that would keep him safe, if his mother could not keep him nearby. Still, more times than he can count, Samuel was tempted to stay away and find out just how much his father didn’t care.
He never did though, at least, stay away for those reasons, though he did stay out late at night, he’d come home to a far too worried mother to even dare bring up the subject of whether or not Fallony had noticed him being gone. And he was having too much fun, learning about the wilds, to care too too much. And Alvero showed him how to hunt too, how to make his own bow and arrows, while his occasional sessions with Will and Amara taught him the basics of fighting. But he didn’t like swinging sharp things around, and they’d both had an awful lot more practice than he did, so it was an unequal contest from the start and generally left him feeling discouraged. Not that they tried to best him at every turn, he just found it clumsy using only one hand, and having to remember that using the other might very well see him cutting his fingers off. Not with a practice sword, but if he was ever to get in a real fight, with a real blade… Well, it just wasn’t for him. Thankfully, Will wasn’t an unattentive brother, nor was Amara disinterested in his troubles, so eventually, the trouble he was having became clear to them and Will, without much need to think on in, produced a spear for Sammy. He’d asked one of the other men who lived nearby, and, given that spears were a weapon which generally had one or two spares lying about, the fellow was happy to contribute to the cause of a young warrior.
Of course, as a young boy still growing, the spear was just a little too big, but he dragged it about the practice area Fallony had set out, trying to show Will just how much he appreciated him finding something that wasn’t a sword for him to fight with. Their father, however, wasn’t exactly pleased by the foolishness of a boy carting about a weapon he was too small for, and after only two days of such nonsense he tore it from Samuel’s hands and made some, slightly careless, adjustments to it. In other words, he tried to break it in half over his knee, but didn’t quite have it by the middle and instead just made the staff a little shorter. And splintery… For the need he had to have Fallony take notice of him, he didn’t see it as an angry act, but instead as his father getting frustrated seeing his son like that and finally unable to hold himself back from making the weapon useable. After all, once it was shorter, Samuel had a lot less difficult handling it. Alvero showed him some technique with it, but it was mostly the same man who’d volunteered the spear in the first place who ended up teaching him the use of it. And, gradually, he began to be good enough that, while it still wasn’t an even match between him and his siblings, they still had to work harder to beat him.
About this time, when Sammy was nine, his mother decided that if her boy was ready for his Birthright, she wasn’t going to wait for a time that would be convenient for Fallony, because he’d made it clear, through his actions, that he wasn’t paying enough attention to have realised his second son was old enough for his Birthright Ceremony. So, she took him aside, made him promise he would remember the date she told him, and then let it be. Needless to say, Samuel was about as excited as a snake that’s gotten into a barrel of monkeys, he was finally going to get what he wanted so badly. Not the Jewel, though that was nice, but his father’s approval. Will had got it, Amara had got it, now he would too. Of course, as the snake would soon find out, being in that barrel isn’t the safest place, and Sam had forgotten to take into account the fact that Fallony already paid those two some attention, certainly an awful lot more for Will, while he was little more than an afterthought. So that he would be pleased with Will went without saying, and since Amara had, during her earlier years, made a nuisance of herself tagging along to learn about fighting, he’d seen more promise from her. But Sam, he was just the boy who stayed with his mother all day and hardly had a word for the man of the house. He was just the boy who made trouble for his mother and annoyed his father by doing foolish things and asking foolish questions. Forgetting him was probably easy for Fallony to do.
Still, he held onto his hope as the ceremony progressed, after all, the best part didn’t happen until after he got the Jewel. He followed everything the lady told him to do, and when he turned away from the Altar, his father was going to be so proud. But… He wasn’t there. He wasn’t even there to look at him in disappointment that he’d wasted all that time when he could have been training with Will. He wasn’t even there to look bored. Or put out, or maybe just a little bit proud of the boy who’d been given the same rank of Jewel he’d received when he was just a boy himself. Still, Sam waited, Fallony didn’t have to be there for his mother to say that he was Sam’s father. Maybe that was all it would take to make Fallony pay more attention to him. And he did show up a few minutes later, panting and out of breath and looking more apologetic than Sam had ever seen him. He would have forgiven the man anything then, for remembering, even if he was a little late. At least he had come, in the end. Miyana didn’t seem to think so though, and in a fit of rage at the man who had missed his own son’s Birthright, she refused him the paternity that was his right. And, even worse, she denied her son the one thing he had ever truly wanted. He hated her in that moment, hated her for making that gulf between him and his father impassable, hated her for being there all those years when Fallony wasn’t, and he hated her for taking that prize away so cavalierly, as though she’d decided it wasn’t something he deserved to have. He’d thought that maybe, just maybe things would start being right, but that was when things went worse.
As soon as he heard that pronouncement, Sam sat down on the ground, just outside the ring he’d been kneeling in and wouldn’t move. He refused to go anywhere until the man who was, according to his mother, no longer a part of his life picked him up and carried him home. For the first time that he could remember, his father was holding him in a way that said he was his, and it was all a lie. He was… dazed is a good way of describing it. Lost might be another. And no matter how long that walk home might have lasted, he wouldn’t have worried about getting down to walk for himself. He just curled up in Fallony’s arms and cried. And that night, their father left their life for good. And he couldn’t help but think that it was all Miyana’s fault.
When Fallony didn’t come home the next day, William went looking, while Amara and Sam tried to keep out of Miyana’s way was the woman went back and forth between ranting at the walls about that good for nothing man and blaming herself for his disappearance. For three days William searched while Sam and Amara waited out the storm. When he still hadn’t come home and Will hadn’t found him, and the boy never did, Sam couldn’t stand it any longer and ran. He just opened the door and took off, grabbing his bow as he went and disappearing. If he’d stayed, he would have blurted out hurtful things to his mother, and she was suffering enough, he was observant enough to see that, and mature enough not to want to add to her sorrow. And he couldn’t stand Will’s desperation, or the quiet thoughts in his head that turned towards wondering if this was his fault. If maybe he’d been wanting too hard for something he was never supposed to have and the Darkness had taken Fallony away just to prove it.
It seemed the right thing to be thinking when he met up with Alvero and all the man had to say to his recital was good riddance. During that time living wild, Sam went through phases of hating just about everyone. His mother for denying him a father, Will for keeping all of Fallony’s attention, Amara for pretending to care when she never did anything about it (though what she could have done differently is beyond him), Alvero for always calling his father a bad man and for being around just enough to make Fallony think Sam didn’t need a dad around and with Fallony himself for running off like that and not fighting harder. For always leaving him to his own devices. But more than all of them, he hated himself. For seeing all that he had and still thinking that it could be different. For even bothering to want a father. Fallony hadn’t even been all that great a role model for Will, despite giving him all his care and attention. All they’d ever bonded over was fighting, and what use was that when no one had their swords drawn?
Despite his rather more invisible presence at the time, Samuel returned often enough to notice how his brother took to his training with even greater intensity, and how withdrawn Miyana had become. Amara seemed, outwardly, to be the least affected by their father’s disappearance, and for that, he thanked her silently, quietly trying to adopt her attitude while he worked up his courage to come back home. Whenever he came by to watch his family, he never crept into view, but would lurk near the outskirts and duck out of sight if anyone happened to look his way. He’d always be careful to leave some clear sign that he’d been by though, and if he had some meat to spare, he’d leave it at the door during the night. Sometimes, during those times he was most mad at Will, he’d haunt the training grounds and shout out taunts or do his best imitations of night birds just to try and throw his brother offbalance. In that way, he made sure they didn’t worry too much about him, in fact, they were probably more annoyed with him than anything, since he’d also occasionally steal some bread or meat pie off the cooling rack if no one was watching.
That was how he met Chelo for the first time. He’d just absconded with a whole meat pie and had sat down a little bit off the path to leave it on a flat rock and wait for it to finish its cooling. And she, while going to collect some water, had noticed him running by and followed at a rather more leisurely pace without him noticing. By the time he was aware of her watching him, it was too late to run, and he’d had nearly enough of hiding away. So he just offered her half of the pie and asked after her name, since she’d been rescued in a raid while he was off gallivanting over the mountains. They established a relationship after a fashion during that first meeting that soon became a good friendship. Mostly, it consisted of Samuel deciding he liked this quiet, older girl while she was too new to the ways of young boys to realise that he was suffering from puppylove. Still, it turned out well, and in the end, she was able to convince him to go back home, with the help of one very determined Amara. He was a little too young to be stubborn about it when he had two girls after him to come home for his own good. And he’d stopped hating everyone by then too. Besides which, it had only been a few months and he’d already learned how hard it was to go hungry and sleep cold. He might have liked it outside, but he wasn’t sure he liked it well enough to go without a decent change of clothes and a blanket.
So, he went back, though he was never quite able to stand houses for long again, he stayed close and tried to help Amara out around the house when he finally realised just how much had fallen to her, what with Will off practicing night and day and Miyana worrying after him. Alvero came by a little more often too as they began to settle into a routine, and he took over Sam’s lessons when he had the time, adding onto the foundations of what he already knew. Sometimes the siblings would fight together, with Will taking on the teaching part, showing them how to shield and giving both Sammy and Amara a chance to use what they were learning with their own favoured weapons against a different one. For a long time, Sam resented his brother’s constant training, he’d always thought he would stop that if their father wasn’t around to encourage him to it, and that they’d have more time to spend together. But it seemed that even after he was dead, Fallony managed to steal Will away and remind Sam that he wasn’t all that important.
At least he had Chelo to complain to, while she was still growing into her confidence anyway. Which took her a few years, so he had that time to vent and then, when he was old enough, she set him straight. Rolling her eyes and telling him to let it go, because she was tired of hearing the same thing every time they met up. She had more important things to do, really. And since she was older than both his brother and sister, and he was rather enamoured of her, for being a pretty, new face and for putting up with him, what she said had influence. But not quite as much influence as the lasting results of the Fire Dance they went to when he was 12.
He didn’t actually see the cause, and, being a little young, wasn’t around when the actual Fire Dance began to understand what had taken place, though he did know where babies came from by that time. It had only taken Amara a moment to convince him to go home with her later in the evening, before anything really got started. So, while he knew the basics, he didn’t understand the concept of the Fire Dance so much and was far more surprised than his sister when Will ended up turning around after answering the door one day with a baby in his arms. In fact, the first thing he said when he saw Xavier was “What is that?” and the second thing was “Where did it come from?”
Here was yet another thing to take up his brother’s attention. And he’d quickly noticed the dismay on both Amara’s and Miyana’s faces. It turned out, however, that Xavier was, quite possibly, one of the best things that happened to them all.
He calmed Will down, forcing him to take time away from training. He gave Amara something to coo over besides her knives, and he made for a good distraction for his grandmother. The one person who was rather more disgusted than pleased by that bundle of gas, vomit, poo and squalling was Sam, but his dislike of the creature faded as they both grew up some more. A kid wasn’t nearly as bad as a baby, and he began to like those few times when he was put in charge of looking after him. He was no longer the youngest family member, and he was being given adult responsibilities. It made him proud. And added a new dimension in his life. He began to help out more, making repairs, actively hunting to share his kills and even helping Chelo build a new hut when she moved out of the old Healer’s one where she’d been staying while she learned the trade. He became a lot more active with the small community and even began to hope he might get a chance to go on raids with the other Iregi warriors.
Over time, he started to shape up into a fairly nice young man. Even if he was a little too eager for praise and always looking to prove himself…
When Castiel Maite came into the group, trailing his younger sister after him, he was 16 and had just started joining in the raiding parties, generally, thanks to his mother’s fierce opposition, as a scout and trail finder rather than an actual fighter. It might have bruised his ego, to be thought of as not good enough to fight by anyone, even the woman who would have a vested interest in always thinking that, but he did his job well, and proved his worth that way. He was actually in the group that came across Cass and Gabriela for the first time, he’d been the one to run back and report to their leader at the time that there were two people wandering the trail, and one of them was a really little girl. He was a bit wary of the two at first, and then Cass especially when he and his brother started going at it, but eventually realised that they were just being silly men and he’d take to making fun of Will’s obsession at being better, because he really wasn’t sure how else to deal with it. Everything else he’d tried hadn’t worked. It got so bad at times that he’d just ignore it once they started.
He watched everything else happen though, he saw Amara turn into a fullfledged woman, and was there with a smile and a one-armed hug when she got her Opal. And never once did he express dissatisfaction at her career choice. She’d been studying knives all her life and their older brother was always off training in order to kill people. If she could make a little extra money on the side doing what she knew and what Will did for free, well, all he cared about was that she was good enough not to get caught and that she didn’t actually mind doing it. He saw Chelo grow into her own and become a great Healer, and he saw Xavier get his own Birthright, once again a Purple Dusk. He laughed at his brother for timing things just right so he could keep ahead of his son and clapped him on the back with a good natured sign to prove that, once and for all, all was forgiven. Even if Will could still be an ass about training sometimes. He saw Gabi grow up too, and even, though he has never said anything on the subject, caught his brother and Cass in something of an embarrassing situation. He didn’t stay nearby long enough to find out if they got any further though, and hightailed it out of there as soon as he realised he was spying on Will. Some things are better left unseen and unknown…
The results were unmistakable, at the least, in that the two ended up firm friends and Sam no longer had to worry about needing to tune Will out concerning that insufferable prick that kept besting him and showing off. He did have to worry about letting his imagination get away with him for the first few months after that incident, but he got over it eventually, and was very careful to never let on that he’d seen anything at all. He started to make a name for himself as a good hunter and guide, and even had his chance to actually fight. It wasn’t quite what he was expecting, too much adrenaline and chaos and too little exciting heroics to be had, really. But he held his own and proved that he could, and for a while, things were looking up. Everything seemed to be going fine. They had a new and capable leader, Will had settled down to the role of father and Second, Amara had a good reputation and a fairly steady income, their mother was getting a little better at making her ‘subtle’ hints subtle enough that they could ignore them and Sam had his own job by way of procuring meat and patrolling the area to keep it safe. And he didn’t mind so much anymore when he wasn’t immediately singled out to join in the actual fighting of a raid. He was still better with his bow than with his spear, and probably always will be.
He made his Offering to the Darkness at 24, and came out contented with his Tiger Eye Jewel. He had it set as an earring and wore it proudly. But he never really took the time to accustom himself to the change in strength that came with it. Not because he didn’t want to, but because his usage of Craft was such a day to day thing that he didn’t see much point in actually taking the time to practice what he already knew how to do with one Jewel. He never needed absolutely precise control anyway, so he was usually fine. And for those things that were a little more difficult, he just went back to using his Birthright. Perhaps this was a good thing, in an awkward kind of way. Since it never would have been an advantage otherwise.
But two years later, when he was 26, Sam had good reason to be glad he was so used to using his Yellow Jewel, or maybe to curse his lack of practice with the Tiger Eye. Well, either way, he won’t be cursing or being grateful anytime soon, no matter which one he might have decided to go with. It happened during a raid. A pretty ordinary one, really. Except that it was one of those where he’d been picked to join in the actual fighting instead of staying back and picking off any that looked likely to cause trouble. One man tried sneaking up behind him, he had a wicked looking knife and a good chance to use it, whether or not Samuel was aware of him being there. He doesn’t know, because he doesn’t really remember that part so clearly. He just knows that he was fighting and then that the raid must have finished faster than he thought, and successfully too, since he suddenly found himself at home with Will. He isn’t sure, but he has this theory that someone must have knocked him over the head, since he can’t remember how he got home, and everyone seemed worried about him.
The truth of the matter is that Will saw the danger he was in and, in trying to protect him, went a little too far and shattered the Tiger Eye Sam had been using to shield himself when the Green blast swept through his attacker and continued straight at him. And when he felt that break and turned around to see that it was his brother responsible for it, his mind went back through the years to those moments when something he’d wanted badly had been taken away from him for reasons he couldn’t understand. But this time, instead of physically running away, he tried to block out his belief that Will had decided to take something away from him, and to push away the memory of that moment as well. And in doing so, since it was so bitter a moment, and so sudden, in the midst of a battle that already had him tense and highstrung, it sent his mind to wandering a little too far to come back all the way.
He’s been living that way for the past three years now, unable to remember what sent him over the deep end and not even thinking to try. He doesn’t miss the Tiger Eye he never fully accustomed himself to, and doesn’t even notice it’s absence. Although he has grown bothered a few times by Will’s overly sensitive attitude and his family’s protectiveness. Just because he got hit in the head doesn’t mean he’s any more fragile than he used to be. He doesn’t get dizzy or anything, he can still see fine and maybe his thoughts are a bit cloudy, but maybe he just has weightier things to think about now. If he could convince Will of his complete recovery, or at the least figure out what is bothering him, Sam feels that things would go back to the way they were, and he’s made it something of an occasional goal to figure out how he will make this happen.
| ENTER BODY HERE.|
USE 2 BRs TO BREAK UP PARAGRAPHS
| Amara Levis (Sister) - Purple Dusk to Opal Jeweled witch|
FIRST & LAST NAME (RELATIONSHIP) - BR to OFF Jeweled CASTE