Origin

Birthday

Roger's life was as mundane as they go. In all ten years of his life, he had never experienced an event that caused pure joy, fear, or excitement. His days consisted of an endless cycle of repetition in which he never thought he could break out of. His father was a studious half-elf, and had been forcing that trait onto his son from the moment that he could talk, becoming more of a teacher than a father to him. His mother, though kinder and more of a parent than his father, was absent for long periods to work. A merchant's wares won't sell itself, she would tell him before setting off to another town or city and Roger would be left alone in the house with his father. Those days would be spent fretting over his mother's safety and the latest test his father would provide, until his tenth birthday arrived.

Roger's nostrils flared and his eyelids slowly peeled open as the mouthwatering smell of freshly baked bread wafted through the air into his room. The dust in front of his face was exposed by the sunlight that peered through the gap in his curtains as it radiated a scorching warmth. The creaking of his door opening alerted him to his mother who was entering the room, a big grin across her face and holding a platter of elegant silver. Upon it sat the object of desire that had stirred Roger from his slumber, a mythical form of the bread, in comparison to what they usually own, that his house could barely usually afford to purchase. Her son's eyes lit up and he immediately stood and leapt forward, embracing her tightly.
"Who are you more excited to see, me or the bread?" his mother joked as she balanced the platter with one hand. "You're lucky I never dropped this, I spent an age on baking it!"
"You came back early? I wasn't expecting you to, you've not let me interrupt your trade trips before..." Roger was surprised but confused, and his voice was a tell of that, as his mother looked down on him and sighed.
"I know that I've had to miss a few of your birthdays for work, but this is your tenth, I'd never have thought of missing a day as important as this," she turned to look at his table and set down the platter, "I'll just leave this here for you, then come downstairs and meet your father and I."
"Alright mom, and thank you for coming back home," as she left the room, she turned to him and smiled.

Wiping the crumbs off of his clothing, Roger made his way over to his curtains and swiftly parted them to reveal the sun in its scorching glory. Shielding his eyes with one hand, the other released the hatch for the window and opened it wide. Below the window, lazing in the shade was a silent man in his guard uniform, one of the few hired to protect the village as well as one of the few humans who lived within it. The sound of the window opening had grabbed his attention and he turned to look up at Roger, who was staring back down at him.
"You ready for your birthday celebrations tomorrow night?" The man wearily asked, readjusting his armour straps as he spoke.
"There's celebrations?" Roger was blunt with his question, figuring his leg was just being pulled.
"I've already said too much, but know that a Petherik wouldn't ever lie."
"Yeah sure, thanks for the invaluable help, Eli, I'm now newly enlightened by our conversation there."
     Before backing away from his window, Roger scoffed, and then set his sights on his wardrobe to prepare for the day ahead of him. He had his favourite outfit of a thin linen tunic and tattered shorts in mind as he went to open the doors, but instead a new light-brown adventurer's garb greeted him as it hung from a coat hanger. He quickly went to change into it, standing proudly in front of his mirror afterwards and admiring how he looked like one of the fabled heroes from his storybooks. Although it was a little larger than him, he was able to tighten a few straps and make it fit to his size.

As he stepped out of his bedroom, a pair of boots stood proudly in front of him. "Never have I received so much," he whispered to himself, amazed that his parents had decided to go all out for a celebration at long last. Fully dressed, Roger made his way down the relentlessly creaking stairs and looked around for his parents. Passing a window, he noticed them both outside and quickly turned to backtrack to the stairs and make his way out through the front door. As he turned, he noticed a large leather book on the dining table and slowly approached it, his hands raising to open it. At the exact moment he laid hands on it, his father walked in, his shout thundering at him to stop.
"You're not ready for that one yet, son. Go meet your mother outside," his father stared him down, empowering his command.
"I," Roger stuttered, "I'm sorry father, I don't know why it drew me in the way it did," was his only response.
Him and his father exchanged places, and before leaving the house, he looked back to see his father lifting up the book and removing two of the floorboards.
"I heard your father from out here, what did you do this time?" Roger's mother asked as he made his way over to her.
"I just wanted to read the first page..." he responded, feeling slightly detached from reality after the experience.
"The book that sat upon the table? Don't dare go near that again!" his mother was now much more agitated than any other time he had been told off, and completely different from her attitude only a half hour ago.

They exchanged no more words as they stood in wait for Roger's father and after a few minutes of wait, he emerged from the door with three wooden sticks, stereotypically gnarled at the top.
"For your birthday," his father announced, pointing up towards the top of the cliff, "we're going to bring you up there. To show you what the world above looks like."
"You're serious?" his son asked, startled.
"Don't accuse me of lying now, or you'll miss your opportunity." his father still spoke in the same tone of voice he had for years, stern and aggressive.
"Since this is an important day for you, you'll soon be on the track to manhood and might even leave this quaint little village of ours. That'll mean going up there and we want you to be prepared early. Plus, this has always been a dream of yours, hasn't it?" His mother spoke truthfully, for Roger had dreamt for years of what the world above him looked like.
"It has, I've asked for years, you've always said no," Roger began to remember all the moments where his pleas to ascend the valley were rejected, "I can finally leave Amogh?"
"Only for today, and with us. You can't be alone out there for a fair few more years now," his mother was back to her kind self, not snapping at him. Roger felt humbled as he stared up at his destination, breathing in the fresh countryside air. His birthday was finally going to be interesting.