Title: Touch
Characters: Scar
Notes: Worksafe, just an introspective ficlet.
It was a light touch he learned.
He’d never been a fighter, but he had a brother, and that taught a few things about defending yourself, even in jest. It was horrid, what his brother had bestowed upon him at the end. The curse was something he hadn’t thought that he’d earned, even if the tarnish was what saved him.
He hadn’t considered using it, not before that night, when the pitiful creature came to him in pain. He had yet to realize what a light touch was then, and he’d done too much, been too destructive. It came with practice, yet as loathsome as the idea was, he knew it was required. He knew what his purpose was after that, and to be the justice of his god he needed to be properly prepared.
He cast himself out, knowing he was damned on his path. He was damned that he learned. He was ruined in the knowledge that all he needed was a gentle touch to cause immense destruction.
Physical kindness became a weapon. After that, he knew he was no better than those he hunted.