• Graded • It's My Birthtrial And I'll Cry If I Want To

[Darius Baer]

Arc 696, 14th of Vhalar

Darius loved the feeling of the wind against his face when he ran. He was convinced - as any young boy his age would be - that he was the fastest runner in all of Idalos. There were some trials when he could run all the way from his house to the bottom of the hill, down by where the ships were moored, without needing to stop to catch his breath.

But this was not one of those trials. He wasn't running away from his house because that was where the party was happening. It was his birthtrial, and he was a grown up! He knew that had to be true, because his mother had told him so when he'd stirred that morning.

Four arcs old! He almost couldn't believe it. He was sure he must be faster than one trial earlier, because if he was bigger, that meant his legs were both longer and stronger. And yet the purple ribbon eluded him. It was tied into the brunette curls of Gwendoline, who squealed and giggled with delight as she ducked and weaved and continued to outrun him. They were running through the garden, where other children and their parents were playing and mingling respectively. Streamers and pennants decorated the trees and the mixed smells of cooking meat and baking goods wafted through their nostrils as they circled the house. The laughter of the two running children ensured the adults knew where they were at all times.

Darius had still been able to tag Gwendoline, and the young blond boy was still "it", when they heard a cheer of voices from the other side of the house. They both stopped, gasping for air and with their cheeks flushed from the exercise, for they both knew what that noise meant. Gwendoline sent her friend an excited smile, her green eyes lighting up as she let out an excited squeal, and then both children ran towards the sound.

The party was about to start. The jongleur had arrived!

[Darius Baer]

Darius loved jongleurs. They were the best part of any birthtrial celebration, he was sure. Well...that and the cake, of course. His mother would make a fine banana cake, using fruit that arrived at the docks, and she would top it off with a delicious chocolate icing.

He hoped there would be cake later.

But for now, his eyes, light grey in colour and wide open in amazement, sitting on the ground next to Gwendoline as they watched the jongleur perform. The man, who wore an outfit consisting of bright colours and a funny looking hat with bells on the end, was juggling. He had started with just the one apple, which Darius thought even he could manage, but the performer soon added more, and before long, he had no less than five pieces of fruit being flung through the air at once. Every once in a while, the jongleur would take a bite from one of the red apples, the crunching noise leaving a white circle where the mouthful of fruit used to be. By the time his juggling routine had finished, there was little more than a thin core remaining, which Darius - along with his young peers - seemed to find particularly delightful.

The entertainer performed other tricks, too. He was able to pull a seemingly never-ending trail of colourful handkerchiefs from his sleeve, each subsequent one tied to the one before it. And he also presented the crowd of youngsters with an illusion: the floating egg. The man seemed to be able to make a chicken's egg levitate, for it rose when his upper hand did likewise, as if it was being lured to his palm like a moth to flame.

Darius wondered if he was using magic. That was because when he had tried to emulate the trick, the egg had fallen as soon as he'd let go of it, and he'd watched in horror as it plummeted to the ground and it had exploded into a mess of broken shell and egg yolk. Twice, he had received a smaller breakfast because of such ambition, much to his chagrin. It would be several arcs before he would discover the truth: the jongleur had poked a tiny hole in the egg's shell, drained it of yolk and white, and tied a maiden's hair through the hole that he could use to give the impression that the egg was floating on air.

But such revelations would come later. For now, he was at his birthtrial party, and his full attention was on the entertainer until a familiar voice cut through the noise.

"Cake!" Jean Baer yelled from inside the house.

With a face filled with anticipation, the young blond exchanged a glance with Gwendoline and let out a squeal of excitement, before jumping to his feet and running towards his mother as fast as he could. His hopes had come true: there was cake!

[Darius Baer]

Darius ran as fast as he could, his little legs carrying him towards the house. He squealed with delight at the prospect of his mother's banana cake, and his attention quickly became focused on the impending tasty treat. Gwendoline was somewhere behind him, trying to keep up, but the blond haired boy didn't seem to have noticed.

There was no secrecy to his actions as his boots clomped noisily on the ground, each little thump signalling his approach. His noisy breathing, interrupted by the occasional expression of glee, also ensured nobody would be surprised by his impending arrival.

But just because he could be heard coming, it didn't mean his movements were predictable. He dashed between a pair of children before the gap between them closed. He ran around the legs of one adult, his heavy feet clomping noisily as he went, and it was as he attempted to duck between another adult's legs that he misjudged his timing and he tripped on the heel of the man's boot.

Darius' fall was sudden. He had been running as fast as he could, and it was at that speed that he tumbled to the ground. He had just enough time to reflexively put his hands out in front of him in an attempt to break his fall. He landed on the gravel with a loud thump, his legs having given out from beneath him, and then, for a trill, there was silence.

A jolt of pain shot through the blond boy's left knee, and the base of each palm stung from the impact. He froze in place until he was able to register what had happened, and the shocked gasps of the other party guests were drowned out by his shriek of pain. That turned into a wail, and the poor adult who had been unfortunate enough to have been collided into lifted the young child from the ground. The hold was an unfamiliar one, but he did nothing to resist it. He heard a pair of footsteps approaching in a hurry.

"Oh Darius, my dear!" came the voice of his mother, though his vision was blinded by warm tears that prevented him from seeing the concern on her face. "What has happened to my brave little boy?"

Another pair of arms wrapped around him, and the first hands let him go as he was pulled into a protective embrace. It was a hug the boy knew well, and he rested his head on the woman's shoulder as his wails faded away into quiet sobs.

"Have you hurt your knee?" Jean asked, knowing the answer, but letting her son nod silently in response. "Let's get that looked at, shall we? And then we can have a piece of cake, hmm?"

Darius was carried inside the house and taken into the dining area, where he was gently placed onto a wooden chair. He looked down at his knee, eyeing the cut for the first time. It wasn't deep, but it hurt, and he could see it was a mixture of blood red and the occasional small stone from the path outside. Still sniffling, he watched as his mother went into the kitchen and returned with a mug of water and some bandages in one hand, and a plate in the other. His mood brightened when he saw the slice of banana cake, chocolate icing adorning it like a tasty-looking crown.

"I'm going to clean your cut," his mother said as she did precisely that, gently pouring the water over his wound until the unwanted debris was washed away. "It'll help your knee get better."

She offered her son a gentle smile as she carefully dabbed it dry, then wrapped a length of bandage around his knee. She tied it firmly, causing the young boy to wince, but his tears had already stopped flowing.

"There's my brave boy," she smiled, kissing him on the forehead. "Would you like some of your birthtrial cake?"

Darius nodded quickly, and he reached for the food, smearing a mess of cake and icing across his face in his eagerness to take a large bite, which in turn brought a giggle from Jean. The four-arc-old boy beamed at his first taste of the cake, and in that moment, his knee didn't hurt at all.

[Doran]

Darius:

Knowledge:
Detection: Seeing is believing...
Detection: ...but not all that you see should be believed.
Medicine: Cleaning a wound will reduce the risk of infection.
Navigation: You can't fit through every gap.
Running: Getting a quick start can enable you to outrun your rivals.
Running: Running through a crowd can be difficult.

Loot: -
Wealth: -
Injuries: Cut knee. Poor Darius!
Renown: -
Magic XP: -
Skill Review: Appropriate to level.

Points: 10

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Comments: It’s been a while since I’ve read a memory thread from you. I have to admit, I love little Darius (big Darius is great too, though!). You play him so well, and his threads are so entertaining! He’s four arcs old! He’s such a grown up now!

When I read the title of this thread, I was worried that the birthtrial party would suck and that Darius would get bad gifts or no gifts at all (or not even a party at all). The way that you described the party with the jongleur and such makes it sound as if Darius was having fun though.

Fortunately, his accident wasn’t too bad, and his mother’s delicious banana cake made him forget that his knee hurt. The scene with his mother was touching. Jean seems like a good mother in my opinion!

Enjoy your rewards!