The Tragic Heroine

Introduction

Talia Diamandis

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I remember when I was just a little girl, I always dreamt of being remembered by my people. I wanted to be just like my father, fighting to save Nekraya as I knew it.

Six-year-old me loved playing with father's armour. He was one of the greatest warriors we've ever had. Captain of the Sordari, the warriors born with white tattoos, my father server and protected us. White symbolized a fighter and a peace keeper.

I sat in the armoury of our little home, surrounded by weapons perfectly polished. Light reflected off the silver blades and made the golden chestplate of my father's armour sparkle.

"Talia!" My mother called.

I was far too intrigued with the finer details engraved into his helmet.

"TALIA DIAMANDIS, DO NOT MAKE ME CALL. YOU AGAIN!"

I could practically hear the strain in her voice. Mother hadn't been taking care of herself, ever since she was appointed healer of the clan. She was more concerned with the health of others over her own. A shame, really. She was born with a green tattoo. She was part of the Lotrae group. The healers.

Some of us Nekraya were born with a magical tattoo, which enabled us to access our mana core. People like my father had a more complex system. They weren't born with magic in their blood, but rather with godly abilities. My father had increased speed and future eye, a ability that have him the upper hand in predicting the enemy's next move.

"Coming, Mother," I called as I ran up the stairs.

My feet made a soft pitter patter as I sprinted up, the cold marble steps. My mother smiled down at me and gestured for me to go over to the mirror.

I had her misty grey eyes, although hers were different. They were dull with sorrow and anxiety.

"Mother, what's wrong?" I asked as I sat on her lap.

She simply smiled and began to braid my platinum blonde hair. The one thing I inherited from my father. My mother had beautiful brown hair, silky and thick.

"Your father will go to war soon," she said in a soft mouse like voice.

"With the dark beings?" I asked.

"Precisely, sweetie. It's troublesome... I don't know if he has enough men with him," she sighed.

"Father is a hero! He can beat anyone!"

My mother smiled, "never lose that innocence."

I nodded and smiled.

"Come now, Elijah must be waiting for you," she said, fastening the braid with a flower stem.

"He can wait," I crossed my arms and ran around with my arms spread out wide.

Elijah Elkhart, or Eli for short, is my best friend. Annoying, but I can't do anything without him. We met at a training camp with our parents. Mother was attending to the ill and elderly, so my father took me to watch the training drills. Eli's mother was second in command to the army. Naturally, we were both fond of warfare.  He was only three years older than me