Ignis Part 2

Ignis Part 2:
By: James Dubeau

Are you enjoying the fruit juice boy?

Don’t let those shifting sands out there mislead you. We all have a history, even this forsaken desert world. If you dig deep enough into the past you will find hidden secrets, events that have shaped each of us into who they are today. Even this world has secrets. It was once vibrant, green, and full of life. Hard to imagine with nothing but sand and silt from here to the horizon but it would be easy to envision if you knew what happened over the ages.

I’ll let you in on one of the secrets from my history. Ignis is not my given name. My childhood name was Morthos Crescens. I was not a child of a slave or left to die in the streets like so many. My father was a wealthy merchant and my mother was from a aristocratic blood line which made me a noble of sorts.

No, I was not of a merchant house you have ever heard of. It doesn’t matter, they are merchants no longer. Getting back to my story, it was a blessed childhood. I had fresh fruit and water with every meal, slaves kept sand out of the home, there was plenty of time to play every day, and I even received a first rate education. When was the last time you met someone that knows how to read and write?

Languages, history, and arithmetic were not the only studies that were presented to me. See that candle over there? With a snap of my fingers it is lit. My tutors had taught me much about the psionic arts in the few short years that I had them. How different things would have been if I had been allowed to finish my training.

Just like the vibrant green life of this world, my blessed years had been violently cut short. The life of a merchant is full of trade expeditions through the desert wastes. On one such voyage the caravan never made it to the destination. I can remember that morning like it was yesterday.

From the rising red sun desert raiders swooped down from the dunes. They were not seen until they were upon us. The guards stood no chance against their speed and fury. Every member of the caravan was cut down. No one was spared, not even to be taken as slaves. Blood flowed freely upon the sand on that day.

Let me refresh your drink before I continue my story.