[Lore] Promises Made

#Yorwyck I#

Sweetsister, 43 AC

Yorwyck put a finger to his lip and watched as it came back bloody. The sight of fury consuming his grandfather’s face was etched into his mind, as was the feeling of the back of hand to his face and his boot to his ribs. He had spoken the wrong words to him- though he wondered if there were right ones. He dropped a loose piece of masonry off his perch on the Beacon Tower and waited to hear it hit the ground below. He often came here when he needed to think, you could see the sea and you could see Sisterton. The guards posted there would teach him dice games and bawdy jests, though this night they all left him be. From where he sat he could make out much of the town in the last light of the day. He could see the Lowtown and its muddy streets. He watched women at the Siren’s Call wave down sailors walking by. He saw merchants and peddlers pack up their wares by the port and he saw a litter being carried up Copper Hill. Away from the town to north he saw the crags and lochs that made up Sweetsister and to the south he saw the endless dark-green waves of the Bite.

The pains in his face and chest were now dull but he was plagued by something else. He hated that he did not fight back. He hated knowing that if his father still lived he would be free of this and for that he hated Jonos Arryn. He promised to himself he would spit on his grave if there was one. His father didn’t have a true one- there often is little left of a man after going out the Moon Door.

A voice ripped him from his thoughts, “Doin’ alright, lad?” He recognized it as Ser Danwell, Saltstone’s guard captain.

Yorwyck wiped at his eyes, “I’m fine.”

“You’nt look fine.”

Yorwyck pushed past him, leaving the old knight sighing. Yorwyck hoped he would come chasing after him. But he did not and now he was alone.

He spit blood onto the pale stone of the battlements where he now sat. He wanted to cry. He knew that Willem and Allie both got it worse than he did and somehow that made him feel guilty. He sat watching the waves, far below the walls. This part of the keep was built right above and against the cliffs. Soon a patrol came by and Yorwyck took the nearest steps down to the base of the walls. There was a small gate nearby which led to the cliff face. The guards there would only send him back to his chambers so he took to a nearby window and climbed his way down, cracks in the old walls eased his way.

Once on the other side there was a steep stairway that led to the beach below. By the time he was at the bottom he could feel sweat stick to his clothes. He laid on a bed of sand and pebbles and soon enough was asleep. He dreamt bloody dreams. He awoke to the sunrise and made a pact to himself. The next time, he would kill him.