Timestamp: 15th Brightening, Optia, Summer, Era XIV (PF)
Aran Rakaalsson Kha'Serith was somewhat of a different person after he and his much older cousin, Links, had been the quarry of the Huntsmen. They'd barely escaped with their lives, and probably wouldn't have made it had they not recieved help along the way. The only thing that was different about him was that he was somewhat braver than he use to be, and crying was no longer a part of his daily routine. He was still the same small, sickly little creature he'd always been though, with paste-white skin, sunken cheeks, and where his clothing hung loosely off of his thin body. Of course, he was slightly healthier, but that was only due to the warmer weather and getting better nourished.
His almost white hair shone in the sunlight as he wandered about, looking sadly at the charred remains around him. The fire had been a devastating event that had burned most of the city, and Aran had even heard rumors of strange creatures making their homes in the ruins...which is why he stayed out on the streets. The home he and his long dead mother had grown up in had also burned down, though the tree under which his poor mother was buried had not. The gods must've been protecting that spot, knowing how much it meant to the boy. He'd never known "The Rose of Archadoon" as his mother had been called (due to her beautiful looks and personality to match), but Aran always felt she was watching over him.
"I wonder how many lives were lost..." he said, walking onto another street and finding himself wandering by the citizens who were trying to rebuild. Aran saw an older man with a pile of bricks in his hands, and it looked as if he was tiring out. The boy ran to him and asked if he could help, but the only thing he got was an angry look and the words "Get away from me, you half-breed! I don't need a demon's help!" The man then turned to another, letting the other man relieve him of some of his load. Aran looked down at the ground as he wandered away, a solemn look on his innocent face. This wasn't anything new, and he figured there was no use trying to fit in. He was the child of two races, human and dracon, and would forever be caught inbetween the two.
The boy was in too much of a depression to notice where he was going, and before he knew it, he bumped into a passing man, causing the boy to stumble and fall to the ground. He lay on his back and pushed himself up into a sitting position, his legs sprawled out in front of him. "My apologies, Sir..." Aran said, brushing some loose strands of hair out of his face.