Vito's backstory part 1 (Patreon)

The Isles of Ash were where Alitaria’s borders reached their northern bounds. They belonged to the magocracy only in name, for the isles were so remote and barren that Alitaria did not have a strong hold on them or their people. But the islands were home to a very special merchandise that made the survival of its people possible: ash. The winds carried it all the way from the northern volcanoes, although most folk did not know that. They knew only of Brother Sea and the Ash Maiden and the story of the mighty tree that burned down.

Whatever the origin of the ash, it fell on the islands year round and fertilised the fields that grew roots and rye. The people hung sailcloths around their houses and over the streets to shield them from the ashfall and to catch the precious material. When the sea was not frozen, ashers set out to catch the ash into the sails of their narrow boats that sailed headwind. The Isles of Ash were a cold and desolate place indeed, but the people had learned to survive and their homes and bonfires were warm.

Audra Pelenai was a priestess of the Ash Maiden, like many of the Pelenai family before her. Audra was well-loved for her gentle heart: it came as a surprise to many when she suddenly left her family and the Ash Grove. She never told anyone the reason for her departure, not even her son, whom she loved more than anything. She moved to Istazsa, the capital city of the Isles of Ash. However, she had always been frail and sickly, and so she did not have the strength required of the hard-working women of the harbours. What she lacked in bodily strength, she made up in ambition and force of will.

Her son was born after a difficult birth. After Audra got her strength back, they moved just outside the city. It was here, in the edge of the arctic forest where one large sailcloth shielded a small cottage from the ashfall, that Vidmantas Pelenai spent the first years of his life. The boy grew like a weed, lanky of limbs and dark of hair. Vidmantas, or Vidas as he was called, was a lively child, yet gentle and kind like her mother. Audra sought to cherish his good heart. She taught him of Sea and Ash, of Northern wildlands and faraway kingdoms. Vidas loved the stories, loved dragons and ships and the giants that guarded the Ash Grove, and he loved tinkering with rocks and sticks. He was his mother’s special boy and Audra made sure he understood that, even when the other children picked on him. They called his mother a whore and his father a drunkard who had drowned in his own urine; if Vidas had ever wondered about his father, soon he decided to forget about the man. After all, the man had never bothered to show up and take his son and his wife to a beautiful castle somewhere far away where there were dragons and knights.

Ironically, the ash Audra had worshipped turned out to be her downfall. Her lungs became terribly ill and she passed away in winter, just before her son turned nine. The first snowstorm of the year had hit with the full wrath of winter. The storm made it impossible to leave the cottage and the boy could not get the fire started, nor could he get rid of his mother’s corpse. Four days and three nights he spent in that cottage, locked away from the rest of the world and slowly freezing to death. After the storm died down, the doctor who had been taking care of Audra found the boy from under the bed, hypothermic and starving but alive.
Vidas lived thanks to the doctor. Doctor Laurentius was a foreigner with a shady past, yet despite his aloof attitude, he was well-respected by the islanders. Laurentius did not charge Vidas for his medical care nor did he charge him for his mother's funeral, although he did not mention it to anyone. The busy doctor could not take care of a child, and so Vidas ended up on the streets of Istazsa. He had naught in his possession but his mother’s old necklace and the clothes on his back. The boy was not completely alone, mind you - Laurentius had guided him to the mines where orphans and children of the poor could find honest work, and always had a warm bed free in his clinic for the boy.

The mines were run by a dwarf called Avuz. He did not hire lazy children, but rewarded hard-working ones well. Vidas was young and thin for a miner, but he fit into narrow spaces and tried his best. However, it was outside the mines that problems arose, for the streets were a rough place for a gentle soul. Vidas made a good target for older kids who stole what little food he had managed to find. He was too good-hearted for his own good: he never punched back, only curled around his piece of bread on the snowy ground and waited for the kids to get bored. Most of them eventually did. The ones who did not were driven away by a girl only three years older than Vidas.

Her name was Velta and she was a murderer. She was strong for a twelve-year-old and despite her freckled face and tangled, dust-coloured braid, she carried the knife on her belt with confidence that told she knew how to use it. She had killed her drunkard father with a broken bottle when she was ten. Ashamed of her deed, she had run away and left her mother behind. Two years she had been alone and twice she had survived the trip from one city to another - she had grown headstrong and cynical. However, under her shell, she was still a fisherman's daughter who loved the sea and missed home terribly. She could not bear to see a young boy die like that.

And so, the more she helped Vidas, the more she cared. She vowed to only teach him the ropes of street-life, but the children grew fond of each other. Vidas introduced her to the mines and the grumpy doctor, Velta showed him the safest sleeping places and held him when he missed his mother. They were siblings, if not by blood then by oath. When winter turned into spring, life became easier. Rejoicing their survival, the siblings watched as the Asher ships set sail from the harbours of Istazsa, on their way to collect the precious ash that fell to the sea. Velta vowed to have a ship of her own one day, Vidas joked that he would then build them a ship that could fly.
Summer passed sweetly. There were no parents around to tell them what to do and where to go; unlike winter, they enjoyed their freedom. When they weren't at the mines or causing mayhem on the streets, they travelled to the nearby lake, explored the forests or played pirates. They built a house close to the mines out of things they could scavenge. Much of it was ship parts and scrap metal, but with Vidas' expertise, the scrap came to resemble a small ship-shaped house.

When autumn came, they were reminded of the harsh reality of the streets. An apothecary had burned down. Vidas and Velta were trying to salvage bandages and herbs from the charred rubble when they found a child. He was very much alive and was crying for his parents. His name was Kostas Relzevi, the apothecary's son; he was only eight and suddenly an orphan. Vidas and Velta took the cotton-haired boy to Laurentius, who (against his will) became the caretaker of a third child. Soon they found out that Kostas had no one to take care of him and that his mind had suffered terribly from the fire. He could not survive on his own and Vidas and Velta couldn't bear to leave the boy to his death. And so the siblings became three when Kostas moved into their shiphouse.

The years went by. The children worked at the mines, revelled in their freedom, made up stories of flying ships, took turns jumping into the cool waters of Lake Kol, threw dirt bombs at the wealthy merchants in the harbour, and huddled together in a spare bed at Laurentius' clinic on cold winter nights. Kostas grew up to be a quiet, reserved boy who would have done anything for his siblings but didn't care much for other people. He still suffered from nightmares of fire and the smoke had given him a cough that never went away - he felt like a burden, and nothing his siblings said could make the feeling go away. Velta was still her serious, protective self, although she had grown into her confidence and assumed leadership as naturally as she beat adults in fistfights. Vidas was Vidas - a fool and an idealist who kept the siblings together like he kept together the little machines he built with his ever so restless hands.

Eventually, the mines ran dry and had to be closed. The scattered workers worried for their futures, however, the three siblings were excited. Finally, time had come to leave their arctic homeland. They got a place on a ship's crew, got matching tattoos to remember each other by and packed what little they owned. When they went to say goodbye to Laurentius, the doctor informed them that he, too, was leaving. The children had inspired him, although he would never admit it out loud, and he had decided that even a worthless man like him could still do something good. He told Vidas that should the boy ever want to pursue academic education, Laurentius could help him get into the University of Ambariya.