[ She doesn't have a pretty story - maybe one of the Knights would, Sir Gahalad perhaps or - how ugly the smile that plays in her mind - Sir Lucan. Oh, he no doubt, would have a story to tell of that kind. About runes and magic and the confused tragedy of the world. ]
Lycans were born into the world many centuries ago. In England, so I am told. Those born are referred to as Purebloods or Elders. Those that are bitten and turned, we call Half-breeds. Vampires, keep even more secrets and have worked their way into the ranks of the aristocracy and command now one of the greatest trading sources in the world as I know it. Other than that, I do not care to know. [ She's explained this to a half dozen people since she arrived, that it's an easy thing to do now. ]
I had never seen one until I was 17, and I saw the mess they leave behind. Had to watch a child who did not know what had happened to her cry in confusion because she had not understood that she was the one that killed her parents. Nor did I know them as an enemy until I refused to let my people be feasted on anymore, and was besieged by them. I never hated them so wholly until they slaughtered my city. Innocent men, women and children. In a single night, my kingdom went from prosperous and thriving to a blood-soaked, burning graveyard. They died, fighting to their last, even those that could not, but still, they tried, screaming for me to save them --
[ No, she doesn't have it in her anymore. She might have once. When she had a husband, and a son, and so many people to tend too. When she had love hymns and flowers in her hair. When she wrote letters begging for help. ]
-- and where they could not kill us except in the black of night, they got the forces they had corrupted to suppress and destroy otherwise.
[ and with that, her happy little story, is over. ]
no subject
Lycans were born into the world many centuries ago. In England, so I am told. Those born are referred to as Purebloods or Elders. Those that are bitten and turned, we call Half-breeds. Vampires, keep even more secrets and have worked their way into the ranks of the aristocracy and command now one of the greatest trading sources in the world as I know it. Other than that, I do not care to know. [ She's explained this to a half dozen people since she arrived, that it's an easy thing to do now. ]
I had never seen one until I was 17, and I saw the mess they leave behind. Had to watch a child who did not know what had happened to her cry in confusion because she had not understood that she was the one that killed her parents. Nor did I know them as an enemy until I refused to let my people be feasted on anymore, and was besieged by them. I never hated them so wholly until they slaughtered my city. Innocent men, women and children. In a single night, my kingdom went from prosperous and thriving to a blood-soaked, burning graveyard. They died, fighting to their last, even those that could not, but still, they tried, screaming for me to save them --
[ No, she doesn't have it in her anymore. She might have once. When she had a husband, and a son, and so many people to tend too. When she had love hymns and flowers in her hair. When she wrote letters begging for help. ]
-- and where they could not kill us except in the black of night, they got the forces they had corrupted to suppress and destroy otherwise.
[ and with that, her happy little story, is over. ]
Anything else you wish to know?