Clay to Day – Tales of Eru: As I Wake

[Ben]

My eyes opened, for the first time in my memory. I was in a shambles of a chamber, cut from stone, and framed with wood. I looked into the eyes of others whose shape seemed unlike my own. They were broad of frame and feature, though not tall. Their swarthy features were framed by long beards and hair. I would later learn they were dwarves.

I, was not.

I looked down upon my frame, taller by far than the dwarves, and taller even than the one human who accompanied them. My “skin” such as it seemed, was covered in markings I did not understand. Perhaps these were tattoos? Perhaps they ran deeper?

What clothing I wore was tattered beyond usage or function, but a leather belt surrounded my waist, and it’s cord and iron ring bound me to a post. By the look of my clothing and the dust that had settled on my form, I might have been there for decades, Perhaps for centuries.

I knew that my cord bound me to my post, as surely as a ward or the commands of a master. I knew then, if not from the speech of my “rescuers” that I was not born, as others are. I was created.

My.. Creator.. I can’t fully remember their face, but I think they were human. I remember their smile. It all seems like a dream, but, I think I was more than just a tool. I remember kindness. I remember a nurturing that must have been love.

What became of them, this ghost of a memory? Somehow I was set here to wait. I believe they must be gone from THIS world.

I remain.

My company took me from the place, going elsewhere to study me further. All were loath to look upon me. My nature was “unnatural” to them. As they clustered about and studied me, I often heard them refer to me as a “thing”, an “icon”, “wrong”.

The human later explained it to me. In this culture, the Baahir Republic, artwork that depicted a beings physical form was considered improper, even immoral. I am not human, dwarf, or elf. I am something else, a created being. As I am such, they find me difficult to look upon. To them I am a walking icon. A thing that should not be.

Days were spent studying me before they sent me on my way. They gave me new clothing, perhaps to better hide my form. They gave me a name. It is an old one, as old as they remember. They called me “Eru”. It means alone. I was told that I was in the city Nassaar in Mount Dajaani. The capital of the Baahir Republic. I was told of their culture. Of why I was so foreign to them, so strange, so.. wrong..

Perhaps they feel I should BE alone. Perhaps that is my nature, or they wish it to be.

Yet, as I wander through the passages of Nassaar, marveling at the structures and symmetry, or gazing at the inscriptions left upon my flesh, I think there is more that I may be. More that I may learn.

I was born here, I “fit” in, in a sense, but I am not seen fit to live here.

I must walk forward.

Alone,
For a time.

But I get to choose what I make of the journey.

I choose to be lost in discovery. To take in this world and value what I find.

I know that I was made to serve, perhaps to nurture, perhaps to protect.

What can I learn from this world?

I will find a way to who I am meant to be.

[Author]

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