The Beginning
I’ve always liked the colour red.
Watching the red blood run over my hands made me feel so powerful. So immortal. His blood is quite literally on my hands. Watching the blood drip off onto the floor was oddly satisfying in the silent throne room. It calmed my mind seeing his blood running away from his body, his eyes vacant. But it hasn’t fixed anything. In fact, I think it made things worse.
Did power and revenge turn me into something I didn’t’ recognise? Or was it just something deep inside me that climbed its way out?
I must start at the beginning to decide.
My mother must have known what would happen to me. That’s why she named me, Aerith which means blood in Elven.
I’m not sure if they would be proud of what I have done, but does that matter now?
I was an average child. My father was a farmer, and my mother was the town’s seamstress. They were the perfect pair. They cared for me dearly and would always make sure I was happy and looked after. They did a good job raising me, and I couldn’t’ have asked for better parents.
And I? I caused trouble. I was always the child who ran off, wanted to learn how to fight, climb trees, even tried to fight some of the local boys. I had a simple life planned out for me. I was to become a wife, have children and be the family woman. At the age of fifteen, my father had already promised to one of the Blacksmiths sons, Conan. Conan and I had been friends since we were very young. He was the one that would give me lessons in defending myself. He taught me how to climb a tree and ride a horse. Deep down, I always hoped my father would pick him to be my husband.
Hearing this news, we were both very excited to know that we would spend the rest of our lives together. Even if we didn’t fall in love, at least we were friends.
Under the old oak tree, we promised that we would care for each other until the bitter end and sealed it with our first kiss.
Everything seemed perfect in our little village but soon came the news. Our beloved Kingdom was invaded. Demons swarmed in from the north, their King wanting to take over the entire continent.
These Demons had plagued our lands before. Five hundred years ago, they say the Demons attempted to take over the lands and enslave the humans. I have never seen a Demon, nor would I want to. But it’s said that the minions are grotesque creatures that you see in nightmares. But the knights and royals were beautiful. They looked like humans, apart from the ram’s horns on top of their heads and their skin had a slight purple hue to it. They say these Demons are descendants of the Ancient Elves that once roamed the lands before humans had discovered it.
Now our Kingdom was thrown into a war that we are not prepared for. The King rushed to gather his army to face the Demons head-on and stop them in their tracks. Not much changed for the average person. It meant rations so that the food could go off to the army and feed them. Some of the village men went to join the military, Conan decided he was needed in the capital. With his skills in Blacksmithing and fighting, he was the perfect soldier. Though heartbreaking to see him leave, everyone thought that they would be home within the year. Little did we know.
When the day came for Conan to leave for the capital, I cried until I could no longer see. He promised he would be back to start our lives together finally, but I know that I would never see him again.
I still had to continue on with my life.
Eight months passed, and a new year crept in. A pair of the Kingsmen came to the village, their armour shining in the rain. Their horses whinnied as they galloped in. We all knew it was bad news. Conan and a few others from the village had died in battle. It felt like my world had come to an end. My best friend, my lover, had been taken away from me without being able to experience life together. Thankfully I still had my family. They took good care of me and made sure I could build my life back.
And I did.
