The Storm Empire

Prologue

Twenty seasons ago

As a child I wasn't perfect. I managed to smile all the time though, despite my constant melancholic state. My sister, Gray was the perfect one. The one who was an apprentice by 7 and a warrior by age 14. The average age to receive apprenticeship was 10, whilst the average age to receive warriorship was 16. Gray was tall, elegant, bright, and beautiful. Many toms chase after her, but she prefers to stay single just because she's not the type to mingle. As for me, I was short, icy looking, and not smart. My only physical abilities were my strength, not too useful unless you're trying to win a fist-fight against the older apprentices, because even if you were strong, you were no match against the warriors from other clans.

I think about the day right before I left my former clan. It was an early morning when I went out to offer my mother her morning soup. I gave it to her, but her eyes seemed vacant on my brother's grave. Those gray pupils of hers were dull and unmoving, not even a loud clattering could cause her eyes to flicker out of focus. My dead brother's name was Pebble and he was my mother's favorite. When he died, something inside of her was destroyed. She acted quiet during the day, but as night swept she let out the destructive feelings inside of her, in the form of an agonizing screech, loud enough to wake up clans miles, miles away.

I head inside where I finger the wounds on my arms and legs, desperate to take my mind off of my needy mother. Just for the sake of looking decent, I unravel what looks like a white ribbon and tie it around my hair. It turns out to be a bandage, but I leave it on just because no one seems to notice anything about me anyways. I have a pair of scissors that I keep on my dresser and cut off a piece, covering the wounds on my back. Then, I put on long sleeves to cover the cuts. Looking up, I marvel at myself as I gaze upon a reflective mirror against the dirt walls of my tribe den. My lips are straight and I try to recall the last time I've smiled. My fingers hold the end of my mouth, forming it into a slight grin, one not too genuine.

What is a real smile? How long has it been since I last truly smiled? I wish that I was more perfect. I wish I could smile. It doesn't matter Crystal. Keep smiling. Keep yourself perfect. You have to so that no one notices. Keep studying until you collapse of exhaustion. Look so perfect that no one will approach you. You wear thick clothing just as a quirk. You need to be the one who is perfect. You have to do well. Leaving the tribe will give you just that.

I shake my head, then walk out of the den. After saying farewell to my tribe members, I take off with nothing but a leather knapsack in my hands and a juicy mouse in my jaws. The journey to the outskirts of the Arian forest is only a couple of days but I lengthen it to almost two weeks. Maybe I hesitate about going back, or maybe I'm just a slow walker. Either way, I knew there was no turning back.

I stand in front of the kingdom, the road familiar. Here I am again. This is the place that I ran away from many, many years ago. Piercings line my body and I remember I am not the same person 5 years ago. I will not let go of myself. I will give anyone who gives me hell what they deserve.

"Hello Storm Kingdom. Crystalfur is back," I keep my voice calm and precise, the crystal like voice piercing into the air. Then with a small smirk, I enter, ready to begin my new life.