The oppression of the elfin son of Mann has been going on for hundreds of years. The elfin live in squalor and are slaves, never to accomplish anything or to be more than a slave. The masters were hoping that the captivity would destroy the elfin spirit and make them docile and tame.

“In times long past and forgotten, a warrior was born with traits of strange eyes, hair, with a headstrong force of will that could accomplish anything.” But this information was lost during the long hundreds of years of oppression.

She was born Larian Sol-levaine a little undersize for her kind. With eyes the color of an enchanted lagoon and hair touched with starfire, that this had never been seen in the past few hundred years. To say she was different is an understatement. Elfin are always born with dark hair and eyes docile in nature, due to the long years of domination by the masters. In the city of Humbous, her parents did their best to hide her otherworldly traits, but as a headstrong young elfin she wanted to be herself.

Growing up young, Larian struggled with her parents, who used the oppressive nature of the camps to hide her star touched hair. They covered it with ash to dull the color and make her blend in with the rest of the elfin. Her eyes were not easy to hide, so Larian was told to keep her head down at all times. “Look at the ground! Never make eye contact especially with a master. They will take you away if they see that you are different from the rest of us,” warned her mother.

“But why, why do we live this way? What is the point of this life we are not free?” Larian questioned

“The point, my dear one, is to simply survive. The masters put us in the camps so that we will die out. They don’t want us to survive, so we struggle on and endure the harshest treatment of this life until the day we are free; until then we survive.”

And survive is what they did though barely. Over the next ten years Larian endured harsh back breaking labor and poor slop for food. She was growing into a stunningly beautiful woman. It was growing more and more difficult to hide the fact she was different from the elfin. Inside she was changing as well, for her mind was growing sharper and able to focus her thoughts even though her body was abused by the labors she was forced to perform. One day it happened as the sky was beginning to darken as Larian was washing up for her meager dinner. A man was watching her and had been for several weeks, wondering what was under the clothing she hid in while he was drumming up the courage to take what he wanted from her. As he watched, he felt a growing desire to have this elfin like his buddies had bragged of doing to other female elfin in the past.

He rushes toward her with his arms outstretched a longing look on his face. Larian looks up, sees the rushing toward her, and takes a step backwards. They collide with a gasp and fall to the ground. She doesn’t struggle remembering what her mother told her, “Always let the s do as they wish. You can never try to stop them; they will kill you and leave you lying there.”

The grabbed her by the hair and pulls her along with him down the street. The elfin that are around divert their eyes and walk away. Larian’s mind is racing. Thoughts are struggling to the surface. She wants this to stop, but doesn’t know how to stop it with her mother’s warning ringing loudly in her mind. She allows him to pull her around by her hair and whimpers as tears stream down her beautiful face making tracks in the ash dust lying there. She resigned to the fact that she has no other choice but to go with him to the shack down at the end of the road.

They enter the building as full darkness falls. The orders her to remove her clothing and to look at him. She raises her head and looks into his eyes.

“Oh my, you are stunning! The boys are going to want some of you when I am done,” as he takes her all in from her star touched hair to the creamy pale body that has never seen the sun. He is stunned by the look of perfection of her body then; he looks into her eyes and stumbles back from the force of her gaze.

Noticing everything as she looks at him she smiles at his reaction having never seeing that out of anyone before who looked at a mere elfin.

He is taller than her by a foot and bigger framed with a slightly defined muscle tone and a bit timid. “You are a goddess to my eyes” he told her.

“Please let me go” she begs “I won’t tell anyone please? You can say you did anything I will agree to it. Just let me go. “

“Not until I get what I came for.” As he grabs her breast and rubs it roughly, “You will be mine for the rest of your life to do as I tell you and fulfill all my needs and desires. I claim you.”

He pulls out a chain placing it around her neck. “This is a delicate chain for the rose blossoming in this pile of refuse.”

Her mind races not wanting to be owned by this Master. She whimpers softly at the rough treatment and begs “Please let me go.” He grabs her and forces her to the floor of the shack. He caresses her body with his.

In her mind something snaps free. She sees a peaceful meadow full of birds and flowers; it is so serene. All of a sudden the field erupts in flames, the birds and flowers explode. Her arm seems to act of its own accord shooting out lightning quick with bone shattering force. She slams her palm into his face palm first sending bone fragments into his brain. He falls limply on top of her bleeding from the nose and mouth. She struggles to get out from under him. Painstakingly slow with his blood flowing over her naked body, she finally gets out from under him and struggles to her feet. Naked and covered in blood, she stumbles out of the shack. She heads for home.

Her head up straight, eyes blazing with anger and fear, she struggles down the road barely hearing the gasps and cries of the elfin there. She realizes she is naked and covered in sticky blood.

An old crone of an elfin walks up to Larian and as she places a robe around her shoulders she repeats the prophecy “she will come baptized in blood and the destruction will begin anew. The time will be right for the people to rise and be free again. “

“Wa wha what did you say?” Larian looks at the old elfin. “I just want to go home. “ “Then go child seek me out when you are ready only you will know where to find me.” She snatches the chain from around her neck. “You will not need this.” The crone walks away into the crowd that has gathered around and vanishes as Larian heads home.

When she arrives home Larian is greeted by screams of shock from her mother, and a look of horror from her father. “What happened? Why are you covered in blood?”

As she falls to the floor sobbing, she explains to her parents what has happened. Her mother balks at the idea of her daughter hurting anyone let alone killing a master. Her father dismisses the actions of his wife and takes Larian to the back room of their pitiful hovel. He points to a pile of old discarded clothing and trash in a corner. “In there is a leather package. Find it” and he walks out without another word and closes the door. Still fearful and jumpy, Larian starts to dig into the pile. Past the mildew and damp clothes, she finds a mushy leather package that feels so slippery and slimy that she cannot get a full grip on it. Slowly she drags it out of the pile into the middle of the floor. After what seems like an hour of staring at this package, her mother walks in with a basin of water and a few towels. “For you to clean up with,” she states without looking at her daughter. Staring at the package with tears in her eyes, the old lady leaves the room and closes the door.

Larian slowly removes the robe the old crone gave her and gently proceeds to clean her entire body and hair. Still nude she looks at the leather bundle she found under the pile. She looks at her body, sighs, and begins to slowly peel back the disgusting slimy leather covering. After a few layers of rotten leather, she finds that the center most layers are still somewhat supple and cleans her hands. Continuing to peel back the final layer of leather, she finds what appears to be along ornately carved, oddly curved walking stick, which is notched at both ends. There are a few smaller square packets that are full of dust. “What, an old walking stick! What’s this for?”
Laying it to the side, she looks in the package where she finds an old ornate dress. As she tries it on, she feels that it is a bit loose around the hips and bosom areas, but all in all, it fits her well. On the floor she finds a cloth band with a starfire signet in the middle, it is too small for a belt. She lays it out flat on the floor and realizes it is slightly curved from the middle to the ends and tries to fit it as a headband with the stone in the center of her forehead. Tying it at the nape of her neck she finds that it fits perfectly but covers the tips of her upswept ears.

She walks into the main room and her parents are stunned as they view. The beautifully elegant, sapphire-colored dress with a matching headband inserted with a starfire the exact color of her hair. She holds an oddly thin, slightly curved, ornately carved walking stick almost as tall as she is.

“A vision of beauty and radiance is my daughter in the ancients’ clothing,” her father whispers. “Is that what was in the bundle in the pile?”

“Yes, Father. But why did you want me to have this? Where did it come from?” she questions.

“A long time ago, your great father’s great father was given the package to hold until a daughter of this house was bathed in blood. After you told us of your encounter with the master, I knew it was for you. Now I have to do what no parent ever wants to do, my child; I must cast you out into the world to fend for yourself. You will learn to survive or you will die. You may never return to this home. You killed a master, and for this you are cast out of the family. Cast out of our lives.” With tears in his eyes, he pushes his beloved daughter into the street and closes the door to the hovel. He walks over to his wife and lays her head on his shoulder tears streaming down their faces. ”It is done my love; it appears our daughter is the one. May she have safe journeys, but we know it will not be safe. She may die tonight.”

As she is walking down the road Larian remembers the old crone speaking to her “you will know when to seek me out child.” And she heads in the direction of the shack where the old woman vanished. “You have returned little one and with suitable clothing to fit your new life you will have to leave the city as fast as you can the s will be searching for you. Come follow me.”

The old crone hobbles down the road humming an ancient ditty long forgotten by all elfin but her.

Larian follows and listens to the tune hearing a few words filter into her head that seem to flow with the humming.

“And when the blood does flow

She shall come again

To free her people

From a Tyrant’s hand”

“You remember the words, Child. Save the memories for another time. Now you must flee. Here is a , looking for you. Stand tall, and be proud, Child, and do as you must. You need to leave this place to return when it is time,” The crone warns and hobbles to the . “I saw an elfin running away from a shack a while ago….”

“SHUT YOUR FACE OLD WOMAN!” the man yells as he slaps the crone across the face with the back of his hand. “I will ask you to talk when it’s time to question you, but first we will ask this elfin here what she knows.” He points to Larian

“Run child,” the crone gasps from the ground “I will do what I can”

Larian is rooted to the spot with fear where she stands. The s are walking to her as the crone grabs one by the leg and tries to stop him.

The man reaches for the old crone and pushes her to the side roughly knocking her over and out of the way. His eyes never left Larian’s “Now what do we have here” he whispers sheathing his dagger.

Larian feels the urge to run and starts to move backwards between two shacks not taking her eyes off the . “Just leave me alone and let me pass,” she states, “I don’t want any trouble just want to leave the city.”

“You are an elfin. You cannot leave you will do as you are told, elfin, and get on your knees now,” he orders. “It’s time for me to question you to find out what you know about the murder of my brother”

She holds her stick up in front of her, ready to swing it at the man.
He looks at the staff and begins to laugh at her, “What are you going to do with that bow, little girl, you don’t even have it strung. Give it here I will teach you how to use it, is it covered in runes? If it is it will be worth a fortune” he tries to grab the bow. Feeling a fire begin to well up in her chest, Larian begins to move away faster. “Just leave me alone I didn’t mean to kill him. He wouldn’t stop. I just wanted him to stop. He wouldn’t st..” “WHAT YOU KILLED MY BROTHER!” he roars pulling his dagger out again. “YOUR BLOOD WILL MINGLE WITH THE SOIL, ELFIN.” He lunges at Larian with the dagger.

Larian jumps back swinging her stick as hard as she can breaking it over the master’s head and gets knocked away with thunderous force by the destruction of the weapon. She bounces off the wall of a building and covered by a mound of trash, falls unconscious for a time.