I play D&D on occasion and I often draw my characters and write some sort of back-story for them. This particular character is a female monk named Achlys. Her name means mist or darkness. Here is a short confrontation I wrote in order to explain her character.
Length: 398 words
Damion stared into her eyes as he silently approached. It was as if he was looking into her soul and could see everything she tried so desperately to hide. To her surprise, he didn’t seem to mind whatever it was he saw in her. More importantly, neither did she. For the first in many years – if ever – Achlys knew in her heart that she could trust him. She didn’t have to hide herself or hold anything back. He would accept her, no matter what.
“I want to show you something.” Achlys muttered, her eyes fixed on his. Damion nodded, allowing her to continue.
With shaking hands, she peeled her shirt off. Confusion flashed through Damion’s eyes, but he remained quiet. Slowly, gently, she began to unravel the cloth which bound her chest and shoulders. She let it flutter to the ground, leaving her chest bare. Damion’s gaze drifted down, his eyes widening slightly as he took in the sight. He reached out with a questioning hand and – receiving no objection from Achlys – gently ran his fingers over the pale pink tissue of the large scar marring her flesh.
Her scar was easily the size of a grapefruit and was round other than its jagged edges. Damion furrowed his brows and looked up at her. She tried to hold eye contact, but faltered, looking away.
“No doubt you have noticed my aversion to magic,” Achlys whispered. “This is why. I was raised in a monk monastery from the age of 8 until the age of 18. When I was 12, the monastery was attacked by a dreadfully powerful sorcerer. I tried to help defend our home, but his magic…” She shuddered.
Damion gently pulled her chin so she was looking at him again. “The magic –“ he began.
“—Fireball. It struck me and tore right through my body.” Achlys turned, revealing an equal-sized scar on her back. “I am not entirely sure how I managed to survive, but when I awoke, the sorcerer had been slain. Not before many of my kin had been slain themselves, however.” She turned back to him and shrugged, fighting to regain her composure. “That is my darkest secret. Fire brings terror and weakness within me, even now.”
Damion grasped her shoulders and started into her eyes again – in his way.
“I understand.” he whispered.
And that was all she needed to hear.