~Ballad of the Shadow-Born~
Of Westmark are we
Born into shadow
Cloak and Dagger are we
The Bow, and the Arrow
When the Sun burned us
By moonlight we warmed
When the sky spurned us
In darkness we formed
Though the sea barred us
And by daylight we bled
We found those who scarred us
And the shadows ran red
In the shadows we wait
From the shadows we fight
With the shadows we take
All we lost in the light
For our own, we have fought
For our own, we have sworn
We are born, Shadow-wrought
And we live, Shadow-born
The world did not welcome the twin Westmarks - Castor and Coriaria - out of the womb. The land burned with the fires of war. The sea boiled with the anger of their enemies. The sun left them naked and friendless before their foes. The light itself betrayed them.
So it was that the Westmarks embraced the shadows.
And the shadows welcomed them.
Surrounded by foes - the formidable and treacherous Corsairs - in the dark of a relentless, unforgiving night, beneath the shade of a hidden shelter, Castor Kristopher Paule Westmark came into the world (feet first!), just like his twin sister, Coriaria, who had been born only five minutes before him.
The twins' mother, Baroness Katarina Westmark, had been wearing full armour only a few hours before their birth. The Shadow Twins, as some would later come to call them - Cloak, the Cunning (Coriaria), and Dagger, the Keen (Castor) - knew war before they knew peace. They knew peril before they knew safety.
But for all the terrors of battle and bloodshed, they knew love.
Their parents, the Shadow Baron and his Bride, made sure of that.
Death it seemed, was everywhere - around every corner, behind every wall, above every vale, and below every hill. Castor and Coriaria learned to hide before they learned to walk. They learned to be silent, when most babes their age were learning to speak their first words. Castor's first words were whispers.
Beset by enemies on every side, talking could get one killed.
The twins invented their own personal means of secret communication (Coriaria's idea), by a complex form of sign-language. They called it twinspeak, or finger-signing. In this way (with rapid, minute finger movements disguised as mundane twitches and the like), Castor and Coriaria could talk privately - in full sentences - so long as they were in line of sight of each other. They were also taught other means of clandestine communication -such as 'dead-drops' (locations at which messages are left). This was a common practice for the children of the Shadow-Baron - it was a game.
Among these other lessons, Castor was taught to play… with weapons. From about the time he could hold a rattle, he could hold a tiny, training dagger. It soon became a real one. He and his twin - Coriaria (whom he jokingly called 'Polly' after the twin stars in the heavens: Castor and Pollux) - did not play games like other children did; instead they trained in the arts of stealth, subtlety, warfare, and assassination.
They made a game of it.
Among the many training games of the Westmark family, a particular favourite (especially of Coriaria's, since she was the better stealth-master), was called Dagger-Tag by their father. In this game, the twins and their parents would practice sneaking up on each other in the shadows, and 'tagging' them with a dagger. If discovered, the game became a knife-fight in the dark.
Sometimes the shadow-born (mere children) would bleed.
Other children celebrated their first step, their first tooth - their first missing tooth - but the progeny of the Shadow-Baron were forced by war and bloodshed to aspire to something else. The advent of Castor's (and Coriaria's) first kill (of a human) changed the course of their lives forever.
The attack upon the twins came at night - a lesson the Corsairs had yet to properly learn: never attack the Westmarks by night. Cas and Cricket (Coriaria's byname) were playing in the courtyard - two children no more than six winters old. Both siblings practiced with their bows, each one calling out random targets in the courtyard while the other stood with eyes closed. Targets could be anything from an object in the courtyard, or something deliberately thrown, to a bird in the sky or animal in the field. If one found the target quickly enough, and hit it, one scored a point and the right to call out the next target. They named the game, Birdcall.
It was Coriaria's turn to call.
Castor stood there in the centre of the courtyard - eyes closed, bow in one hand, arrow in its quiver - waiting for his twin sister to speak the name of his next target. Aside from the flickering of the torches, and the occasional noises from the stables - he heard nothing - not even his sister's breathing (she was much too good at hiding for that).
Then, instead of a call, a startled scream split the air - Cricket's scream. Reacting without thinking, the boy turned about - using the direction of the sound to guess where the danger was. The arrow flew from the bow before Castor opened his eyes - and for a moment, he didn't want to see.
But he looked.
In front of him, above the stables, stood a figure - all in dark clothing, a cloak and hood - armed with a dagger. The figure remained there, motionless, before toppling off the stable roof and to the ground, with an arrow through its chest. Blinking, Castor spun around yelling, "Cricket!" —
— But Cricket was already turning herself. Before Castor's eyes, the little slip of a girl grabbed her assailant and seemed to just… breeze around him as if she were made of air. Castor recognised the move - she had used it on him several times when they were sparring. The attacker hit the ground hard, then rolled to his feet and came up with a dagger in his hand.
But Cricket was quicker.
Like a viper, she struck - the move was so quick, it appeared that she had only poked the man in the chest - but her hand came away with a bloodied dagger in it. Castor already had a second arrow nocked to his bow - but it was not needed. The assailant staggered back, choking on his own tongue as it swelled in his mouth.
Poison.
Good little Cricket!
The twins looked at each other across the courtyard, then suddenly dropped their weapons and ran into each other's arms. Although Cricket's body trembled and Cas' chest heaved with each breath - neither of them shed any tears. Children born of Shadow did not shed tears over killing their enemies. They ran inside to report the attack to their parents, who rejoiced in the safety of their son and daughter.
A decision was made.
By this time, Paule and Katarina Westmark had had four children — two sets of twins. Castor and Cricket were the older pair, and their younger siblings were named Laurel and Lilium. In the year 1316, the younger two were still babes — and the enemy had proven they could get to the children if they tried hard enough.
Laurel and Lilium were smuggled away to Laketown, to be raised in the Temple of the Four by the woman who had helped bring all four children into the world: Mother Superior Tylon. Castor, on the other hand, was sent further in to Rhaedan — to live with Katarina's brother (thus, his uncle) Kristopher.
As a boy of six, he tried to understand why it was necessary, but being taken away from Cricket was the hardest grief he had to bear. Castor would not see Cricket again for another ten years; it was thirteen years before he saw little Laurel again… but Lilium died of Whitefever while still a child.
Kristopher proved only too happy to raise Castor on behalf of his sister, and brother-in-law. The man had no children of his own, and so he doted upon the boy. Castor was introduced to the Royal Court of Rhaedan, paraded around every party, ball or fair that he could attend, and trained in the art of combat — but not so much in the stealthy, assassin style of the Westmarks.
Kristopher, believing that the 'Shadow Baron' was misguided in his 'assassin/guerrilla-style' of warfare, instead tried grooming Castor for Knighthood, or at least a noble-born Duellist. Castor's quick temper and impulsive nature, however, began to cause problems. Relenting on some of his opinions of Paule, Kristopher apprenticed Castor to the court Apothecary and Healer, to teach the lad some gentler, more subtle skills — and patience.
Castor was not an easy student.
Nevertheless, the boy grew into a fine archer and swordsman — and surprised himself at his skill in healing. It became increasingly clear to the boy's peers that he truly was his father's son: bold, passionate, stubborn as a mule, and a force to be reckoned with. After the lad thwarted two assassination attempts upon his life, his uncle Kristopher finally started to refer to the boy by his byname: Wolfsbane. Although the name was given in reference to a poisonous herb — just like 'Cricket' (Coriaria), 'Foxglove' (Laurel), and 'Belladonna' (Lilium) — people took to calling him the 'Wolf of Westmark'. And for all this time, the Wolf pined for his family — especially his twin, who seemed to be the only one who truly understood him.
That understanding would save the boy's life, and his sanity, when he finally returned to Elkmound Keep.
The differences of experience between Castor and his twin (who was raised in the middle of a life-time siege), created problems for the Westmark family when the war was finally won. When Castor finally returned home (in the year 1326), he found he barely knew his family… all except Cricket. He fought continually with his father, disrespected his mother, repeatedly rode away into the wilds to hunt, and explore… and, try though he might, he could not express how he felt within.
He was a stranger in his own home.
But he was home.
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