Warning: Contains emotional abuse
He woke to the sound of yelling, and anger, overwhelming anger.
“-gone all night and then he sleeps till noon?! Every day it’s like this!”
His father, Ascon, bellowing somewhere from the rooms below – the kitchen, maybe? The anger was likely his. It usually was.
“But Daddy, he’s a night bloom!”
His little sister, Hayle. Was that pity or worry he felt? Both? Was that hers? …Was that his?
“Don’t you buy into that nonsense! The cycles are meaningless – any proper sylvari-” Ascon’s favourite phrase. “- can and should make the best use of the day! How can you be productive when you waste most of it?”
“But Tora Zollun-”
“It’s Tora, Hayle. What have I told you about indulging him?”
“I know but-”
“No proper sylvari has two names – you know he made that up so he could be more like those foolish human heroes in his story books. He has to grow up!”
He hadn’t made it up. Tora Zollun rolled over and sat on the edge of his leaf hammock, feeling his grip tighten around its rubbery edges. A slow breathe in, then
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