How to Adopt a Warden and Other Tales

Izarre blinked as he was suddenly lifted into strong arms and carried. His size made it easy for this to be accomplished and it wasn't long before he was in the tub being scrubbed down from head to toe as his new mother and father watched from a safe distance. Though the faces he made were more than obvious that he disliked being touched, along with the occasional biting, he was eventually cleaned. Underneath the layers of dirt and filth was actually a child, with gorgeous, glowing white hair and large jade eyes.

It was a shame that the pale skin held so many scars and scrapes and the tub water had been blackened from the cleaning. Huddled under a large, soft towel, Izarre shivered as he felt as if he were on display for approval. His questionable looks could easily confuse him for both an elf and a young  girl, but there were also just as many male and human features mixed in as well. It was hard to tell where the mix was and if there was even one. "Oh, he's simply adorable, Bryce. A little bunny after all that mud is off. Doesn't he look like an Orlaisian pup? The small ones with all that white fur?"

"Well, he certainly bites like one." Laughing, Bryce came over to look down at his new charge. "Your name is Izarre, right? That means star? Interesting. And Fergus says you saved him? You must really know how to handle yourself in combat. You'll make for a good sparring partner." The kind hand of the older man came to ruffle up the wet, white hair, making Izarre's body stiffen but it was easily pushed around. And so the days of Izarre Cousland came to pass. Fergus was delighted to finally have someone around his own age to play and duel with, despite the few years in age difference. The new child was also soon the latest gossip around the town. Some claimed that Izarre was really the Teyrn's child from an Elf mistress. Others claimed that the ghost of the child the Teryna miscarried came back to life, shown to be a spirit with glowing white hair. No matter what the rumor, the Cousland's raised Izarre as their own.

"Brother! Brother! Izarre!" Fergus was giving chase to younger sibling, who had walked out of dinner party in a hurry. "What's wrong with you? Shouldn't you be happy for me?"  Fergus was now  17 years old and had just announced his engagement to his new bride. At 13, Izarre had walked out in anger.

"I am happy for you,” the younger boy mumbled while looking to the floor, though his fists clenched tightly. The messy white hair of his youth had been pampered upon by a doting mother, who insisted that was to be grown out. Pulled up into a high ponytail, the long hair dangling against his back.

"So why are you walking out on..."

"You didn't tell me anything!” Izarre suddenly shouted. “And now you have a pregnant bride-to-be! You always used to tell me everything and now you're keeping secrets!" Fergus's toned softened. The naive son had grown into a strong young man with a chestnut-colored hair young woman to be his wife and mother of his unborn child.

"I...I'm sorry, brother. I wanted to have a surprise..."

"You're gone for nearly six months and come back like this?! ...I..." But Izarre soon closed his mouth. It wasn't because there was something he didn't want to say, but more because he didn't know what he wanted to say. Sighing, he turned to offer a smile. "I'm happy for you, Fergus. She's very pretty...You'll be a good lord one day." While Fergus caught the sadness in his younger brother's voice, he knew that was the best he was going to get. Despite the years together, Izarre knew his place. He had taken the last name, but he was not going to gain any titles. He treated others with great respect, while keeping his emotions heavily guarded. The only one he considered himself close to was Fergus, which was not in closeness of normal terms.

 "Alright, let's get back to the party. I still have a table to drink you under."

It was at the balcony when Bryce came to his younger son later that night. He had a few things of importance to discuss, which included Fergus's new life. "Staring at the moon again, pup?" The moonlight glistened off of Izarre's white hair as he turned to look at his slightly intoxicated father. "I know you're upset about Fergus's wedding...but he'll still be your brother. And you'll still be my son. You won't inherit the castle...but you're always welcome here. Fergus loves you. So does your mother and I…” Smiling softly, Izarre nodded.

"And you smell like a brewery."

"I do not...W ell, perhaps a little...There is something else..."

"Yes, Father?" Pressing his lips together, Bryce wasn't sure if he was ready for this conversation. Though it had been bothering him for over a year, perhaps the alcohol gave him courage to speak.

 "...In training today, your....well you've always had this very potent...aura, when you fight. You manage to strike fear in your enemies, your blades weaken your opponents…which is good..."

Freezing, Izarre had a terrible idea where this was going. "Well...yes, Father. You trained me well..."

"Bah! You had skills since you came here. I've never seen such reflexes and adaptation...however, lately..." A hand came to Izarre's shoulder, giving it a loving squeeze. "How long have you know about your magic, son?" There was a sigh. Truth was that Izarre had been getting into actual fights, not just in duels and training anymore. He wasn’t just using simple tricks where he lie about when he was a little homeless thief anymore.

 "...It's nothing serious...I don't go around casting fireballs or anything. That's embarrassing." Keeping their voices hushed, Bryce continued to speak.

"No. In fact, even with those auras, you're one of the fast blades I've seen. I'm very proud of you."

 

"...Are you...going to send me…” Izarre was about to ask about being shipped off to the Mage Tower before his father stopped him.

"Absolutely not. You're not a threat nor a true mage. I've never seen a mage fight like you and you never showed any signs of sparks or twinkles. Just be honest, have you heard the demons?” Laughing softly, Izarre nodded.

"Sure I have, and I tell those little shits to piss off. They all but gave up when I was a kid. I've been able to do these things since I can remember." There was the drunken sigh of a relieved father after that.

"Thank the Maker. I'd hate to lose you to that damned tower...you're much stronger than they are, Izarre."

"Bryce! Izarre! Come over here, my darlings!"

"Does Fergus know?"

"Yes."

"Don't tell your mother."

"Wasn't planning on it."

With that, the youngest and the eldest of the male Cousland's went to the beckoning call of the Teyrna. It would be six years later when the loving father, doting mother, young bride, and child of Fergus would be slain in the betrayal of Arl Howe.