Dragon's Teeth for Dathen (any version you want) and Golden Lotus for Archad bc I still love him ok
Does your character feel like someone’s treating them as a replacement for someone else? Or does your character perhaps treat someone else as a replacement for someone your character has lost?Jack, Jack, Jack, Jack, Jack. Sometimes it would puzzle Dathen to realize that he never actually got to meet Jackdaw, with the other snuffed out before he first heard of him. A hundred thousand stories from anyone kind or quiet in Brill painted a life (so to speak) so real to him the memories almost seemed his own.
”You remind me of him,” each friend would say, voice wistful and haunted, and though he couldn’t see their face he was sure the eyes watching him saw someone else. Jack sounded wonderful, impossibly wonderful—a kind and caring heart beating in a corpse’s body, a warm candle’s glow in the stifling darkness that was old Lordaeron. What more praise could Dathen wish for, but to be compared to one so loved?
Maybe they wouldn’t talk to him at all if he didn’t dredge up echoes of their fondness for him, the mannerisms that sparked memories that would bring life to dead voices. He didn’t need to see to hear the smiles in their voices--the catch in their throats when reality crept back and they knew that Jack was gone and they were only talking to him.
But he never really minded. He nearly did the same; almost since he first heard stories he grew the overpowering desire to be friends with Jack, an outright longing to have the chance to talk to this boy who left a void in everyone he left behind.
On his worst days he was glad he never had the chance. He wasn’t like Jack. He knew it, even if his friends forgot, and he knew if they’d once stood side by side it would be too clear. Too impatient, too reckless, too loud and brash and bothersome—a poor Forsaken and a poorer friend. What if Jack wouldn’t like him? He couldn’t understand why the thought made him feel cold and numb.
At least now, he could pretend, and leech the love still left in others’ hearts to warm his starving soul—love meant for someone else, but one he was sure wouldn’t begrudge him his greed.



















