Voruth/History

==History==
A gust of wind.
A gentle breeze...
That was but a mere dream now, in the small village of Aegir. Savage winds blew like stinging flames lashing out against the small village, the modest huts swaying like straws and caving in like soft cheese. None of the villagers knew what to do- lightning striking the ground closer and closer to their humble village like a bad omen. 
It was the tribe leader's daughter who saved them. Aienok- betrothed to the great knight of the west- Ikong- steeled herself, marching firmly with her husband-to-be, desperate to save her village even if it meant sacrificing herself. The suffering was great, as they journeyed to the center of the storm. Aienok was growing sicker by the day and her beloved could do nothing to help as she fell into delusion from her illness. 
Upon reaching the eye, Aienok threw herself at the storm, intending to fully sacrifice herself and end her own suffering and sickness. Rushing to save his wife, Ikong rushed to grab her, his sword sucked up in the breeze with a violent snap. Cradling his fainted lover to himself, Ikong looked up with a hardened face, knowing it was the end for them.
And then it stopped.
There was a loud snap of wind, another strike of lightning, and then it blew out like a puff of smoke. And suddenly in Ikong's arms was an egg. Large, warm- and crackling with electricity. The great knight stared at his wife- stared at the egg- then gathered both up in his arms and carried them home. The healers managed to pry Aienok from his arms but the egg was inseparable from his strong arms.
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The egg didn't hatch for months. The leader had suggested more than once to just rid himself of it, the healers gently telling him it was stillborn and to save himself the agony and celebrate the end of the storm- and the local drunk had not for the first time suggested making an omelette.
But Aienok supported Ikong wholeheartedly in keeping it- she was barren, it could be their only chance for a child.The couple prayed devoutly, over and over without rest that the egg would hatch. That they would have a darling little girl or boy to love and care for and raise as their own.
This did come to be.
The egg cracked one day, loud and similar to a thunderstrike and drawing in every eye in the healer's hut. It moved, and tiny hands appeared clawing at the sturdy egg. Ikong rushed to assist the little thing in the egg, his shout of joy stirring Aienok out of bed. The man clawed away at the shell in a frenzy, and lifted up a baby boy, his pudgy skin soft and delicate to the touch. It was a complete contrast to the calloused horns and tail the child possessed, not to mention the little wings. The couple held the baby close as the rest of the village stared on in shock. They named the baby Voruth, tears in their eyes as they watched the child curiously play with their fingers.
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The boy grew, choosing to help his mother defend their little village in his own way. With an ongoing drought, times were incredibly hard. Knowing this, he used his magic of storm to create rain for the villager's crops. It never lasted long and was quite taxing to the young dragonborn, but Voruth always thought it was worth it. He wore happy smiles day in and day out, and while work was hard and long- it was obvious he was happy. He had a place to fit in, parents who love him dearly, and an ability to help people.
He wasn't expecting the sneak attack.
Out for a stroll out of the village, he never saw the kidnapper coming. He thought it was some sort of traveler at first, moving forward to tell him that there was a village to rest in ahead. A sound never exited his mouth as he looked into the traveler's eyes naively. His entire body was frozen on the spot, and before he knew it he was being thrown over a shoulder and carried away.
He was completely defenseless, unable to try to kick or even scream as he was carried away to a large room of stone filled with statues. Eyes widening he tried even harder to break out of the paralysis but it was too late. Voruth too found himself petrified, the dragon left as little more than a pretty decoration for the serpent.
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The days passed like torture until Voruth couldn't even tell the days apart. He felt as if he was in limbo, some mix between dead and in a coma. He felt a torrent of fear, hopelessness and loneliness as the agonizing days continued. Never before had he wanted his parents so bad. Never before had he longed so intensely for freedom. As he watched others added to the collection, the sympathy and wish to just hug them grew so overwhelming Voruth turned numb. 
His hopes dwindled day by day and hopelessness grew into a pit that pulled him in like a drowning whirlpool. Once, he felt some ounce of hope as the man who kidnapped and imprisoned him was sealed away, but no matter how fervently he hoped and dreamed, there was not even a tingle to his skin. Not to anyone's. It was absolutely soul-crushing to the dragon, and after that he was just....there. Most of the time he didn't bother to pay attention to anything, only the movement of rats managing to catch his attention occasionally. It was a long 300 years.
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He freedom was sudden and completely overwhelming. He'd given up all sense of hope, but suddenly there was a tingle. It was white-hot and filled his body with a sense of joy he had not felt in 300 long years. He laughed- he joined hands with his fellow prisoners- this wasn't just another hopeful dream to block the nightmare of reality. He could feel it in his bones- his sleep had finally been broken. He didn't even know what he was doing or controlling his limbs as his cries of gratitude turned into a delighted dance throughout the night. Finally, after 300 long years, he'd found his freedom.
Adjusting, however, was so much harder than he was expecting. Aether flowed through the lands like pools of honey and milk. A strange new species called "humans" ran amok, and even their fashion was different. It's quite a large step for one day, but Voruth hopes to adjust well.
==Plot==
To be updated
==References==
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Category:Histories