tw: slavery, death, violence
WHERE IT BEGINS
He could not remember much of his childhood, except that it was filled with love from his parents and a lot of scolding from his tutors. Born to farmers in their humble abode in the cold dreary night, Tuah had thought that he would become just like his parents; his hands deep in the rich earth and his back against the hot sun as he provided for himself and his family. As he grew up, however, he found he had a passion for the delicate art of Silat, a Malay martial art that moved as though you were dancing with your partner, but still packed strong deadly blows, so he decided to learn under one of the most influential teachers during night time while still working in the paddy field during the day. Under his tutor’s tutelage, he went for a position to be one of the laksamana, an admiral for the north king as soon as he was of age. It took him years to prove himself capable of protecting the beloved sultan, time and time again that he had proven himself to be worthy of his comrade’s respect and trust, though that was not to say that some did not despise his influence on the court and as the sultan’s constant aide at a young age. It was then that they devise a plan to rid of Tuah once and for all, and they had hired a man from a foreign land that rumoured to be skilful enough to wipe out an entire platoon in a blink of an eye.
Little that they knew that the man would bring havoc to their once peaceful kingdom.
He remembered that night as if it was yesterday; Tuah stood in the middle of an open field, shaking to his bones as he was face to face with a demon with a face of a man; fair skin and hair the colour of the hot sun, his eyes were as bright as the day sky. He watched his comrades fell to the ground one by one and painted the earth red, and still, he could do nothing but to watch. Then the man sauntered forward, taking one step at a time at his own leisure. He tried to move, but his feet were planted to the ground, shaking still. Words were spoken, but his ears could not catch what had been said, deafening with his blood rushing through his head loudly. He remembered the pain the seeped through him around his neck. He remembered screaming, though it felt like his voice was lodged tightly in his throat, before feeling his body went limp and everything went dark.
The next memory was of him waking up at the lowest deck of a slave ship, shivering from an aching hunger that he had not known before. The smell of sea salt burnt his nostrils in the months to come, so was the fear that reeked from those that were held captive. All in the name of gold, gospel, and glory. What lucid memories that he had at the time were filled with ‘corrections’ from his new master, his sire, alexander.
Days passed and turned into years, then decades. Before he knew it, Tuah had spent a century of his new life following the footsteps of his sire, all in the while the seed of revenge in his heart blossomed to a dark twisted tree with its branch jutting out of his still heart as moments passed. He had never made it a secret that he hated his sire with all his heart, vowing to end his life one way or another. His sire, in his arrogance and mockery, laughed at his attempts of killing him and dismiss Tuah's hatred as childish. It was a mistake on his sire part to underestimate one who was consumed with grief and grudge, as it soon became his undoing.
Now without his sire, Tuah wandered aimlessly, going from one country to another and making a habit not to stay in one place for too long, afraid to rouse suspicion among the locals as he did so. Until he met with alexander’s sire, Eleanor. Through Eleanor, he slowly learned to accept what he was, though the journey was arduous for both. He learned to accept those who were around him, despite the mistrust he still held deep within his heart. He learned from his lovers to love again and let himself be loved, letting their sweet nothings washed over the dark thoughts that consumed his days and nights.
He learned of forgiveness for others and eventually for himself, even though he felt that he did not deserve such mercy.