B a c k g r o u n d And then there's Hector. All of Pantoleon and Selene's children were blessings to them, but Hector was... a more trying blessing than most. Prone to crying, fits, and other relatively childlike behavior, he seemed rather unusual next to the paragons of Empyrean nobility his brother and sister seemed (or at least were being groomed to be). In the wake of of his siblings, he almost seemed adopted. Disciplined harshly, it seemed nothing could bring the child to behave. No one noticed he slept very little. From the time he was five, when his troublemaking broke out of him like a rash, Hector's dreams were unsettling and vivid, often of things and events that would echo in his waking days weeks after he had dreamt of them. These dreams would wake him up in the middle of the night and causing him to lay awake in terror until the sun came up. He never told anyone, aside from a few fearful cries to servants about a 'bad dream' and so these nightly fits were considered usual for an unruly boy and nothing was done. He would often run away from the servants and slaves sent to watch after him and climb a high tree in order to catch small naps, preferably dreamless. His lack of sleep kept him irritable and his irritability made him no friends and caused his parents no end of worry as to what was to be done with their youngest son. He found out soon enough himself. At age ten, Hector went to bed one night in tears of what terrible dream waited for him in his slumber and did not get up until the two nights had passed. He slept so deeply and so soundly, not a thing could wake him and doctors were sent for. Nothing seemed wrong so nothing could be done; and so he slept, watched over and cared for with worry and fear. The morning his eyes opened, it was if Hector was an entirely new child. No more running, screaming or malicious breaking of objects, his sister's hair wasn't pulled and his brother's knees were not kicked. He spoke quietly for the first time in years and became a behaved (well enough at least), focused, bright and intelligent little boy. That night, he did have the dream he was so afraid of and what it had to tell him took two nights to reveal. Young Hector dreamt of the world as he knew it, and saw it far advanced to well beyond his lifetime. He watched Empyrean, Varati, Atlantean, Sylvan even Mongrels and Half-Breeds, all fall to the passage of time. How they rose in power and how that power crumbled under them through their own folly, avarice and good intentions. What he saw that night sobered him gravely and gave Hector focus. Whether that focus is to change what he witnessed in his dream or to follow it through to completion... only he knows. This dream has never once passed his lips and he continues to remain quiet on having these prophecies at all. And life progressed. He was no longer the holy terror of his youth, but a quick witted and savvy young man. There were times he seemed blessed with knowledge well beyond his years, when he seemed he knew exactly what to say to people and exactly how far his limits went before he got in trouble. This in no way made him a model child. He still seemed moody from time to time, pushed plenty of buttons and kept life lively for friends and family, but he was doing better. As part of his duty to his family, and in some ways hoping it would stick with him, he applied and was accepted into the Nest at age 16. His focus grew exponentially. Far more of a model soldier than a model son, he completed his training, took his oath and served his duty well. Most of the officers he served under thought well of the young man, while the other Ceterions on the other hand couldn't help but hold a grudge against Hector for keeping them up at night with his occasional 'crazy nightmares'. The dreams did not subside during his service, but Hector steeled himself for the worst and pushed himself to achieve... if only to leave there sooner. And in a fairly exemplary 4 years, he left the Guard a little stronger, a little wiser, far more disciplined and with a healthy taste for alcohol. Coming home, he realized that if he drank enough, he could pass out for a dreamless and sound sleep. This newfound freedom from his prophetic nightmares added a new twist to his personality; suddenly, Hector became as model a lazy and pampered young noble just as he had become a model soldier. Currently, Hector, now 20 years old, has been sent along with his sister to Parnassus, where he has been dawdling in the art scene, making an extensive sampling of the summer wines and continues with his prophetic plans, undisturbed.  logs + fiction + back |