Chapter One: Eliana

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I sat in my workshop, still wearing my leather armor. I had only been back a short while, and yet, it felt as though I had been here forever, suffocating.

I sharpened my blade rhythmically, ignoring the droplets of near-dry blood that spilled from my hair. One day, I would do all I could for this kingdom. I would help usher in an age of peace. I slid my blade against the grindstone as I pumped the pedal with my foot.

I stood to my feet, blade in hand and walked over to the hanging sandbags. I lunged at them and sliced through them, blade first. I was determined to ensure my blade was as sharp as possible.

As I lunged I could hear the screams from the battle field in my head. Mothers screamed for their children as they were slaughtered. They took our young and raised them to kill our people, to hate us. Innocent children were turned to weapons. I lunged again, turning angry with my movements.

I fought the tears back as I remembered today's mission, we had been sent to rescue children who had recently been removed from the village just outside the kingdom. Thirty seven children between the ages of six months and 7 years old were taken.

As a show of power, our enemies killed them instantly. I wept at the lost lives of these innocent children who had done nothing wrong.

"Eliana," a voice came from behind me. Usually his voice left me with relief, but nothing could soothe the pain of losing thirty seven little ones. I lunged at the target dummies I had set up. A bit more blood dripped from my head, but i didn't care.

"Eliana," the voice spoke again, placing a hand on my shoulder. A warm feeling spread through my body. I froze, but I refused to look up at him.

We stood there quietly for a moment, my hand grew week as I pictured the faces of each lost child, tainted with blood. My sword clattered to the ground.

He slid his arms around me, and turned me to face him. "You're hurt," he spoke full of concern, touching his fingertips to my head.

"Ahh!" I grunted out pulling back from him. "I'll be fine."

"Eliana, you are not fine. You can talk to me," he spoke softly.

"I don't talk anymore Ivan, you of all people know that," I smirked turning and picking up my blade from the ground. I began to spar with the dummies one more, lunging and stabbing. Stray pieces of my plum Elven hair slipped into view, but I ignored them.

The clashing of my sword against the wood pounded in my head, drawing out all other thoughts. I grunted in pain as I swung my sword again. "Enough Eliana!" Ivan yelled again. "You don't have to punish yourself like this."

I refused to look at him. At one point in our lives we were almost the same. He was just a child, as was I. We grew up together. But as we came of age, they pulled him away for his royal training and studies. I continued to do what I did best. I fought.

In losing Ivan I lost the only family I had left. It wasn't that he didn't try, but his royal duties came first, as they should. An orphaned warrior is no true concern for a king. "To what do I owe the pleasure, your majesty?" I curtseyed sarcastically before placing my sword in its sheath and gathering my bow and quiver. I looked up at him and he looked pained.

But I was in pain too. For years I shouldered the pain of what I was, what I represented. Now, all that was left was this shell of a person I am now. I stepped out into my yard, not waiting for an answer.

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