The Sacred Land Over the hills and through the woods - in the place where grandmother didn't live - lay a tranquil land. It was uncharted territory, a lost paradise. And it was well as it was. Because of that, it was unspoiled. It nestled comfortably between the heads of slumbering giants and was warmed by a great ball of fire. Every night, when the fire disappeared over the horizon, the giants would awake and water the land with their tears. Tears borne from terrible dreams. They dreamt about wars, and famines, and great sickness. But even so, it was well as it was, for without those dreams, the land would become barren.
On this land lived a creature. He was a beautiful creature with long jet black hair and hoofed feet. He bore horns on his head and a beard bleached white by time. He safeguarded the land and kept it from any one person with malevolent intentions. And he made sure that every night, the giants would wake and water the land. Be
Rae's back story "Please, teach me how to kill."
"You know I can't do that."
"You've taught others, why can't you-"
"It's not my place to take the innocence out of your eyes, and to make you a killer."
At the time she asked for my help, we were both young. She came to me on one November night with a look in her eyes. She wasn't angry, vengeful, or depressed; she understood. Those eyes that looked up at me on that day; those eyes with only sixteen years of memories understood the world. She knew that for it to keep going on, ignorant and blissful, required others to sacrifice themselves. She asked me with a strong and determined voice, a voice with reason and logic behind every sentence, for assistance. I was still new to the world at the age of twenty five, but even I knew that she didn't need anyone to teach her how to kill. Those warm white hands could
We Were Once Kings: Prologue The man breathed in and out slowly, trying to stay silent. He moved against the crumbling walls of an old building inch by inch, hoping that he would not kick a stone out of place. A figure slowly ambled its way towards the man, limping and sometimes tripping over small cracks on the floor. It did not seem to notice the man at first, but as it got closer and closer, it knew. In one explosive movement, the man jumped out of his cover, brought the sword out of its sheath, and cut the figure's head off cleanly. The room echoed with the sound of two objects hitting the ground.
He surveyed the headless body, trying to find something of value. An old Snickers bar, melted and rank with the smell of rotting flesh, fell from the figure's shirt pocket. He looked at it with weary eyes; how long ago was it since he had been able to savor such a thing with no worries? He stood up and dusted himself off, cleaning his sword on the figure's c
The Lost: BranchesBranches: Military
The Blind Master marksmen highly trained with high caliber sniper rifles; these men and women alike can hit a target from over a mile away no matter the circumstances. They are usually dispatched to take care of fragile missions such as extraction, rescue, and raiding missions. They are usually accompanied by two or three members of The Crippled or one member from The Sick.
The Deaf The explosives experts of The Lost. They are rarely called into actual battles. Their actual purpose is to set up the outpost's defenses and make sure that all the weapons and armors that the other branches use are the highest of quality. Recently, they have made an advancement in technology that allows them to create kinetic force out of thin air, removing the worries of ammunitions. They are usually accompanied by three or four members of The Crippled if they are dispatched on the battlefield.
The Dead The special forces of The Lost; these men a