I never felt the warm touch of my mother when I was a child, the only warmth I felt was the warmth of blood flowing down my body. My playground was the heat of the battlefield, and my parents were the soldiers who weren't too busy with military duties or out in battle.
The world is cruel, always full of endless struggle, some struggle is pointless some is not, but most of the time it is pointless. Yet here I am the living meaning of struggle, struggle in flesh and blood.
I grew up learning to throw a punch before I could walk and l earning how to conceal my presence to a point where even the soldiers had a hard time finding me. By the time I was three I was fighting with daggers against the soldiers, they used full force and showed little mercy. Why did they show little to no mercy? Because that is how the world will treat you.
The day I turned seven I was fighting alongside the soldiers, fighting other humans, killing other humans, killing adults. I became one of the best among the squad, often sent on assassination missions with the others.
I was ten when the war ended, I didn't have any place to go, so I followed the soldiers. We set up camp 50 kilometers from the border, we weren't defending or preparing to attack, but kept on standby. The truce with Xathela kingdom was very tense.
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Elmaina
My mother loved me, her touch was gentle, and kind and I hated the way she always wanted to hug me. The only blood I have seen is the blood flowing out of a prick by a thorn. My playground was the whole kingdom of Drasneia, I had countless maids and teachers to teach me the rules of courtesy.
I grew up learning everybody would worship me because of my status. I learned to dress to any given arrangement. By the time I was three I was learning the politics of the Drasneian kingdom and its neighboring kingdoms and Dukedoms. I learnt the laws of my kingdom by heart and learned to be a fair judge.
The day I turned seven my father ordered me to train with the commander of the royal guard. I was told if I didn't get accepted to the void legion's academy, I would be thrown out on the street, so I trained but half-heartedly.
I was 10 when my father barged into the training rooms and demanded to have a duel with wooden swords against me. We dueled for about 30 seconds after which I got disarmed, my dad was furious and roared "Why couldn't I have a son instead of a useless daughter? From now on you will not leave this training room until I am satisfied with your ability to wield a sword. Understood?" From that day onward I practiced with the sword like my life depended on it.
