I was born a long time ago. My parents stole away from the world. I grew up in a cruel world that they tried desperately to prevent me from living in, to prevent me from having to live the life of a slave. I would be able to roam around and play but make no mistake, I would have been a slave to the elven council, and when I turned sixteen I would have gone through a series of tests, and trials, all of which were completely and utterly impossible to survive and complete. The elven council may have told the elves they were with us, but secretly they feared us and they killed us, making sure to go about it in a way where it seemed like they had nothing to do with it.
They would do it when we reached a certain age. Once we turned sixteen, we knew our time was up.
We would be sent outside our village to a cave, and inside it would be a horrible monster. No one knew what type of monster it was, but all we knew, was that it would always kill all who entered. Our lives were built around the council that used us for their own evil purposes, until the day we turned sixteen and were killed.
Only a handful of us lived long enough to have children, and then we would have to suffer as we watched our children have to grow up in the cruel world where there was no joy or happiness in it. Our lives were miserable and even the birth of a newborn could not bring a smile to our faces as they would be brought up as a slave to the council's bidding until their sixteenth year. We hated our existence but the elves knew not of what we suffered so they could not help us. We could never leave our village long enough to go to an elf and tell them of the anguish of our kind. We were always escorted when outside of our village, and kept from speaking to the elves by the council's guards. They, in return, were kept from visiting our village with the simple lie that we craved solitude of our kind. We were born to service the council and die young. No hopes, no dreams, and not one little child ever played pretend or played at all for they were taught at an early age how to fight, how to use knifes and swords, and how to dodge attacks and defend themselves, all from the time they could walk. For years, we lived in misery. No change, and no hope ever appearing.
We did not pray for if there was a god or goddess, they would not have subjected us to this torture. This was the way of my kind for so long. We lived in fear and misery. Waiting 'till we turned sixteen so we could be freed from this living hell through death. Then, everything changed. For a year those of us sixteen, and seventeen where left alone, and so we grew a year older. The council did no longer use us for its own devices, and we were left alone. My kind began to enjoy life as they no longer were forced to do the council's awful bidding and die. And my kind began to believe that times were turning good and things were changing for the better. For the first time in years, a glimmer of hope that their lives would no longer be so cruel and miserable began to grow.
Then, the massacre happened. They came, in the middle of the night on a moonless night, where everything was bathed in darkness. They brought the monster from the caves. No one was safe.
Little children, babies, families, friends all slaughtered. Our homes and our village were burned to the ground, with families in it. The rest were woken up in their sleep by rough hands and beaten before they were killed mercilessly. Daughters and sons watched their parents killed first, and then they came for us, the children. Killing us quickly. It was the darkest day of my kind's existence. My parents had run away with me when I was young a long time ago to hide me and shelter me from the life with no hope that the rest of my kind had, and like a good little girl, I remained hidden just as they told me to do. They taught me how to survive and left so the guards wouldn't be suspicious. So I lived by myself, watching the village and my friends, imagining that I was with them. Then came that horrible night filled with the screams of my people and the ruthless killing of the innocent. I witnessed the slaughter of my kind from my cave outside the village on a hill, and I saw my parents throats ripped out. It was a nightmare from hell come alive.
And I was there to bear witness to it, in the safety of my cave outside of the village. I gathered what little possessions I had and ran with the screams of my people ringing in my ears, knowing that if I stayed, there was a chance they would find me there and if they did I would have no hope of surviving. I ran from my hidden life, my lonely and now destroyed life and built a new one. But it could not cover my old life, the pains and the agony of it. Every night I relived that dark day through relentless nightmares. Every day, the memory's haunted me unless I busied myself. I learned how to make weapons. I was always practicing sword fighting, self-defense, teaching myself karate, and martial arts, boxing, how to wield a knife, bow and arrow, mace, and any and all other possible types of weapons and defense. I practiced blending in to any surroundings, and setting any type of trap, making use of what little I had. I taught myself how to read and write and used books of all kinds that I stole. I learned animal and human science to the point where I could heal and mend almost any injury, and almost every language known to man and magical being. I taught myself how to build even the most complex structures out of the limited items and supplies I might have. I also learned about every kind of magical creature written down, both the monsters and how to defeat them and the friendly ones. I learned thousands of different spells from beginner to very advanced that was way out of capacity for someone my age and yet I mastered the hardest of spells.
I learned how to make potions and brews, healing remedies and poisons that could be completely undetectable. And I learned and mastered all these impossible things for a seven year old to accomplish simply because of one word. Time. I had tons of time to practice and learn. I was agile and quick, nimble and strong, fast and small to fit in small spaces. I was stealthy and silent if I wanted to be, graceful and I had a heart of gold. I was always learning new stuff or practicing fighting and defending myself. This was the only way I could escape my past. I had no friends, no family, nobody. I was all alone in the world. There was no point in my life, no reason that I could see to continue living. The only reason I did it was for my parents. I traveled the world alone, moving from place to place. I was the very last of my kind. I was stronger, smarter, faster, more agile, stealthy, silent, and deadly than the most skilled warrior or assassin and I was only ten years old. I was the ultimate weapon to anyone who could get their hands on me. Luckily, I wasn't the type of person to be spontaneous and draw attention to myself. I kept a low profile and I never allowed myself to grow attached to anyone. Until I met Axel. My whole life was a lonely, painful life that I would not wish on anyone. I was all alone, and living in hell.
Now I am seventeen. I am thin and my hips are small but curvy. My chestnut brown hair streaked with dark brown that flowed wavy down to the small of my back and my deep violet eyes, lightly freckled cheeks, button nose, soft pink lips, straight white teeth, and small ears pointed at the tip made me a beautiful woman who thieves loved to try and tangle with before I snapped their arm in two and kicked their ass. Everything changed when I met Axel, and suddenly, I had a reason to live.
It had been almost a hundred years since her kind's slaughter. Almost. In three days time, it would be the anniversary of the day her people perished along with her old life and her new life was born. Like always, she would spend it with magical animal friends, a good fiction book, and a whole cake with a big bottle of rum. And if she was really feeling festive and needy of a way to forget her past in a way not involving her daily exercise of practicing her fighting skills with many different types of weapons, and her spells and potion making skills, then she would actually hang in the square of whatever village she was in at the time. This time however she was not feeling very festive.
Her birthday was the day after her people's slaughter, which made it ten times worse because it meant at every one of her birthdays she would have the ugly reminder that her parents could never be there. She was miserable, lonely, and depressed. The annoying little voice in her head was no help either. So, sing a sad song and get over it, it said. Easy for it to say, since it was just a voice.
She was walking back from the market when the smell you get from a firecracker that just went off floated to her nose. She walked into a strong warm chest. Startled, she looked up into emerald green eyes and spikey red hair. His chin and cheek bones were sharp and his face thin but not too thin. His teeth were straight and white. His smile was permanently mischievous.
"Sorry." she said, offering a small smile before turning to walk around him. His hand wrapped around her arm, stopping her. He had a strong but gentle grip.
"Wait. It's my fault. I wasn't watching where I was going." He offered me another smile, eyes twinkling.
"Well, whoevers fault it is, it's forgiven." Said another voice. Her eyes widened. She looked up to see another person with long spiky hair that went to below his chin. It was dark brown. Sharp features and straight white teeth with icy blue eyes that weren't harsh or cold like she would have expected. "Come on Axel. We have to go."
Axel laughed. His voice wasn't deep or high but rather in between while his blue eyed friend's was deep.
"Come on Isan, when did you forget how to be polite?" Isan's eyes glittered a little with annoyance, but you could tell they were good friends.
"Well, when you almost run her over in the street, and not me. "
