Since she was a young girl Rose Duvall had been on her own. From the time that she was just six years old all that she could remember was the trauma and abuse. She never knew love, companionship. She knew what it was supposed to look like, but never...
Four years my brother and I have been on our own. Four years since our lives changed forever. Four years since we have been ripped from everything that we've ever known. But it was all worth it.
Since we were little the both of us carried a burden that hung heavy over our heads. We were born into power, a power beyond what most could comprehend. A power that even at times we ourselves had difficulty handling.
Growing up we learned how to harness that power, control it when it was deemed to threaten ultimate destruction. It was a gift that all of my ancestors before us possessed. More often than not it seemed like a curse.
I couldn't speak for my brother, but there were many times that I wanted nothing more than to be completely and wholly human; carefree and oblivious.
Every thought, every emotion, amplified my brain, driving me to do things that a sober mind would find catastrophic. It was a beastly primal instinct that drove me forward, and it was almost uncontrollable.
I was born for one purpose, and one purpose only; a weapon. Like those that came before me I was made to kill, defend, and protect. My father spoke highly of this supposed honor. Lecture after lecture I heard on how it was my duty to protect our family and all those who were counting on our protection.
As the years passed by though the teachings and beliefs of my family started to crumble, turning to Ash in an already forgotten place.
My grandfather, before he passed, would tell stories about how brave and noble our ancestors had been, defending and honoring their primary fundamentals.
A large part of that was honoring our Goddess Selene, the one that bestowed the gifts that set us apart from the rest of the modern world.
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It is said that long ago, when this land was occupied by few, and shelters were born from sticks and straw, a once ordinary man was transformed by the Moon herself.
Our great ancestor Takoda, the first of our kind, was said to be a peaceful man that lived simply among the countryside. He was not the son of a chief, not even a great warrior, but a humble farmer. He owned next to nothing except for wheat in which he grew, and the few animals that he raised. Though he came from nothing, he was said to be one of the happiest men to ever live.
The poor village where he resided thought highly of him, but still he remained humble, withdrawing from status. "The wisest men seek no power, as our wealth is claimed by those we surround ourselves with." Words he would repeat throughout the entirety of his life.
