Daughter of the Dragon

A.N: okay, so the description does have a trigger warning of sorts, but I just wanted to clarify. I am in no way encouraging the acts depicted in this story. I repeat: I in no way encourage the acts depicted in this story. If you have any sort of urges to do the things depicted PLEASE SEEK HELP.  That is all. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy the story : )

Prologue:

A small girl ran desperately through the ruins of the city in which she lived, carrying the corpse of her sibling who had died because of her. They had deserved to live, and she knew of one way to bring them back. Nobody had ever attempted it, but she knew of a form of magic that could transfer her soul into them, bringing them back to life. She knew that she had no other choice. At least they'd get a second chance at life. At least her sacrifice would make up for what she had done. As she ran she felt tears rolling down her freckled cheeks as she remembered her mother's final request: protect them at all costs. She had failed, and gotten them killed. She forced her legs to carry her faster, as she knew she was getting close to the small temple that sat in the center of the city. The city that had once been beautiful and grand, with a castle to the Far East and many beautifully built houses and buildings that were now nothing but piles of ash. Her destination came into view, and she sped up in a vain attempt to quicken her journey. She ran through the twisting stone streets, dodging weapons and brushing quickly past warriors. Once she reached the temple's steps, she threw herself inside, and quickly stood, running to the altar in the center. She placed the limp body of her sibling on the altar, and cringed as she dipped her pale fingers into their stab wound, covering her hand in their inky blood. It was disgusting, but yet she continued to swirl her fingers around in the deep wound in an attempt to grab as much of the sticky black substance as she could. She inhaled deeply, and drew her knife with her opposite hand. She sobbed shakily as she brought the knife down on her wrist, and used her hand covered in her sibling's blood to catch her own inky blood that seeped from the new gash. Then she used her bloody hand to write various symbols on their cold body. Symbols of resurrection. Her hands shook horribly as she finished, and brought the knife up to her sternum, and thrust it into her chest. She sobbed in pain as she muttered her final words:"I love you....P-Palmel....a.."

Years later a small boy with curly dark hair lived in the woods near a temple. He had chosen that spot since it had a good amount of useful resources, and a decent amount of sunlight, which he needed to survive. One day he had decided to search the temple to see what was inside. Inside he found a person laying on the altar. A rather tall-but young-person with fanlike ears on the sides of their head, a mop of lavender hair, and a face covered in freckles. They seemed to be sleeping, and so the boy left them there to sleep. Every day he stopped by, dog-like tail wagging and fluffy ears perked, only to find that they were still asleep. However, one day when he arrived, the person stirred. He froze, but didn't run. They awoke slowly, sitting up and looking around groggily. He smiled kindly. They started panicking and thrashing wildly like a cornered animal. The boy stepped forward in an attempt to calm them, only to end up with their claws raking against the left side of his face, leaving a deep gash where his eye should have been. The person stopped, and looked at him with wide, frightened eyes. The boy just frowned, and tore off a piece of his already tattered shirt to tie over the wound. "That really hurt y'know," he said. The person cocked their head slightly as green liquid started to seep through the fabric. The boy smiled sweetly, and offered a hand for the person to take. They just stared up at him. He sighed, and decided to just carry them. He scooped them up in his arms, and they allowed it without a fight. They stared up at him as he carried them, seemingly entranced by his odd features-such as the bushel of daisies wrapped around his head, directly under a pair of fluffy black ears. "My name is Jake, by the way," the boy said with a gentle smile. The person just stared. The boy-Jake-sighed softly, before walking off to his small home in the woods.