The Listeners

           Knives.     

 That was all she had since her Drawing. Pain and Knives. Sickness and Hate. Everything came so fast. Memories, experiences, and even murders. Her Father had been cruel, to the point of her near suicide. It only got worse since The Drawing... 

 In her world, there were two types of people, The Listeners, and The Deaf. You would think it would be a great honor to be a Listener, but it is not so, since the Evil King Maggeroth had killed his brother and de-throned his nephew, He would not hear of Listeners, if one was found (which is always the case), they were immediately outcast and Marked with a special tattoo. It signified that the bearer would receive no help and be attacked and Sacrificed if they were caught by soldiers. 

It was a hard life, a sick life. She was fed up with it. Ally. Her long brown hair that was once silky and smooth, deteriorated to a mangey red.  Her long limbs, her small lithe body conditioned and toned by years of fighting as only one fighting for their lives can. Her eyes were the strangest, bright amber. It wasn't natural. Brought on by her powers.

One day she woke up and found she could hear,smell, and even see better. Her strength and dexterity also increased along with her ability to prowl in silence. It was daunting at first, and was an unmistakable sign that she was a Listener. All Listeners had powers, abilities The Deaf could not dream of possessing. Since The King hired one special Listener to asses every single child that lived past their sixth year. 

It was a harsh life, a half-life. That simple, iridescent, purple, circle around her right eye gave them away on site (each person had a different colored tattoo). It was Enchanted so that it could never be covered for long. Her eyes were also concerning, they were turning more and more gold everyday, to the point where they were almost glowing in the darkness. 

Ally lived in a tree, a simple old sequoia. She had carved a large hole with her knives, big enough to fit herself in a sitting position, where she had put rugs and her one blanket inside. She lived perhaps thirty feet above the ground, making sure no one could reach her easily. It was safe, enough. But it was dangerous, she could scale the tree by clever footholds hidden from view for those who were not seeking them, with other branches in reach so she could sneak tree-to-tree in perilous situations. You would have thought it safe from the branches, as long as no one was firing arrows at you... Still, she would land flat on animals that passed by, finishing them with a fast flash of daggers. 

She tried salvaging the scraps of fur, but she did not have the proper tools or knowledge to produce something substantial, leaving her with tufts of fur to stick in her clothing for insulation, failing miserably as it got shaken out in the wind. Meaning Ally had to try to steal something off a thief or rich aristocrat with a surplus. Even though it was probably not possessed by honest means in the first place, it still felt wrong. Ally would just leave half a rabbit as payment for a new shirt or pair of pants. She would do what she had to if it meant survival. 

"For what exactly would that mean?" she pondered silently, "why don't I just Sacrifice myself now? Save myself the trouble or living like this!" she thought morosely. 

"For us! Just wait my friend, we shall one day return as heros for surviving this Cursed Rule!" said the charming voice smoothly, as if certain of a better fate. 

There it went again, The Voice, making her different from everyone she had ever known, making her an outcast. All she could do was sigh and dig her thin shoes in the tree as she waited for her next victim. In the forest, everything and nothing must be expected at all times, otherwise, you shall surly perish with the first mountain cats' cry.