Lovers and Enemies (discontinued)

The Beginning of the End

Tw: Language, mention of death and alcohol 

It would be a lie to say I refused to be on the front lines. How many times have I volunteered to fight? To many to count. Still, Wilbur shuts me down every single time saying something like 'your day will come' or 'keep training'. Honestly, am I some object to them they can throw in whenever they'd like?

I want you to forget everything I just said. After all, these are my inner feelings and thoughts. No one but you needs to hear them.

I woke with a start to the alarm blaring at me. Waking up had never been a problem for me. I leaned up and banged my fist on it repeatedly until it stopped beeping. Now I sleepily rubbed my eyes and looked around the cabin.

A sweet thing, my home was. Only three rooms, if you can even call them rooms. A bathroom, kitchen, and bedroom. The bedroom was in the loft, god was it fun up there. I even draped hanging lights around to make it look more cozy. This also doubled as a place where I drew. A small chair and table sat in the corner. The kitchen was bright white, honestly very pretty. The bathroom was simple but practical. My clothes were bunched up in the small closet downstairs.
This morning I changed into a black tank and deep cobalt jacket. I slid on some pants with many hidden pockets and laced up my boots. All I had to eat that morning was a few strawberries from the field Tubbo had been growing. They were fresh and sweet, which made me smile. I pulled my hair back into a messy bun and slipped on my wristwatch.

See, everyday I wore four accessories. They might mean nothing to the common eye, but they mean everything to me. A pair of real diamond earrings in my second piercing Wilbur had given to me on my birthday years ago. Plain gold spheres filled my first piercing.

They were my mothers. Key word, were.

A ring sat on my right ring finger. It had a deep blue sapphire jewel and some diamonds. That was supposedly my lat memory of my father. Then a black watch that ticked away on my wrist. Dante, my mentor had given it to me. All these things meant so much to me.

I never, ever took them off.

Now I grabbed my sketchbook and a pencil, shoving them in a slingback I carried with me. I also tucked my favorite daggers into my hidden pant pockets. They were silver with deep blue sapphires, once again. These were from Dante too. Then I put three throwing knives in my jacket pocket. Although the sun hadn't even risen on the horizon yet, you can never be too cautious. I finally made my way outside.

The morning air was cold and breezy, but satisfying to breathe in. I walked slowly, taking in the red, yellow, and orange trees all around me. Fall was a beautiful season, but winter always held a special place in my mind. My brown curls, although pulled back, still flew around in the wind. I made my way down the path, looking up at the large walls of L'Manberg. They stood tall, bringing back memories of all types to my head.

How do I explain all this to you, so in some way it will make sense? I'll try. My name is Blaze, and I am 21 years old. Yes, Blaze is my real name. Don't ask for the thought process of my parents on that one.

Dad left, shocker. Mom said he was abusive, but mom did lie a lot. Seriously, she couldn't go two sentences without spitting random shit. I mean, my mom was okay to me. She kept food on the table and clothes on my body... but she was never around. Whenever we conversed she was drunk or asking for money. When I turned 11 she died of malaria, leaving me on my own.
God did it only go downhill from there.

I lived in some orphanage for about a month. A shabby place, which to be honest I don't remember much off. Then I was 'homeless', for a while. This only lasted a few months of me sleeping outside before I was taken in by my mentor, Dante.

Word Count: 733