Blaise's introduction

this is Blaise's introduction

Hello and welcome, stranger. You are about to enter my life, a true hell. No other illusion could possibly compare to what my life has been. My name is Blaise Gull, and I am the only child and daughter of Eros Gull, the monster of my nightmares and ruler of this hell.

The earliest memory I have is when I was four. My father slit a man’s throat in front of me before allowing his body to fall in front of me. With my curiosity, I touched his blood, my innocence stolen from me at that moment. The true horror of the memory never truly settled in. The next memory is similar except I was five, hiding out of sight, and knew better than to see death face to face again. My mind was only beginning its scarred journey through life.

My memories go on with continuous depressing memories. By the age of seven, I no longer felt anything when I saw a dead body. By the age of nine, I recognized my father as the monster of my nightmares. He had no heart, no mercy. He didn’t even have the ability to regret. What was a person if they couldn’t regret? Absolutely nothing.

Friendless, I progressed through childhood and into the teenage years. Not even the children of my father’s fellow bandits would go near me. I was my father’s possession. I wasn’t to be shared. I handled this brutal isolation with the need to distance myself from the life I was leading. My solution: education. I knew every legend of the land, every culture of every society, every race, every occupation a person fulfilled. I was a walking, youthful scholar in the making.

Besides my aggressive attack on knowledge, I was also forced to learn how to defend myself. My father, at the age of six, started me in hand to hand. He was ruthless and scarred me for each slip. By ten, I was a miniature mercenary lethal in hand to hand. My father didn’t stop his lessons. He continued them with weapons. I was forced to learn how to kill and defend myself with scimitars. He was even worse and left more scars than I thought possible. Thankfully they were scars I could hide.

When I was fourteen, a brave boy befriended me. His name was Gadriel. We kept our friendship hidden for two years before my father discovered it and killed him in front of me. Up to that point in life, I feared my father too much to defy him. After Gadriel’s unjustified death, I snapped. I was sixteen, going through my teenage years, and he took the only friend I had from me. I rebelled in every facet of bandit life, and he tightened his control. I got smart and searched for holes in his absolute control.

Age seventeen, he attempted to marry me off to one of his loyal follower’s children. I fled, killing for the first time. I was desperate for a new life, too deep in desperation to be affected by it. I would regret it later. I ran to dark, deep territories I had read about, finding them filled with enemies of every sort. A vampire was almost my end, but a werewolf saved me. He offered me directions to safety, and I offered him friendship. We traveled together after that, human and werewolf, predator and prey.

The day I found a place I could call home, he left for his own home. Unfortunately, before I could lose myself in this happy new freedom, my father tracked me down. My werewolf friend, who was coming to visit me around the same time, happened upon a horrifying scene. My father and I were screaming at each other, both red faced, both with a murderous expression marring our faces. In the background, my house was burning to the ground with all my gathered possessions, some of which held consider personal value to me. He attempted to kill my father, but my father bested him.

Two friends I lost to my father. I now loathed him with every breath I breathed. I gave the werewolf a burial proper for a werewolf before I was dragged home with my father, drugged and helpless. Helpless when I returned to Joust City, I did what I had to do. I cooperated till I was stronger. It turned out my cooperation was more than we both bargained for. I gained allies, and my father lost support. People came to me for help, and I delivered on my word without taking a life or causing pain. Funny how I rebelled and it got me nowhere. Cooperation had the exact opposite effect.

Enpowered by this change of authority, I was careful to tuck in loose ends and keep my contacts happy. No longer could he keep me weak and defeated. I was a force to be reckoned with. Over the next few years, he tried to cut my power down. I always outsmarted him. You could say I should be proud, after all he has done to control me, I was finally besting him. I wasn’t. I was afraid. Afraid of losing my gained freedom. It was evident he was weary of me, which made him even more dangerous than before. I moved to Wurner City to escape the close contact, a move he protested bitterly and almost succeeded in stopping.

I had two desires now. True freedom and knowledge. I desired to know my mother’s name, something he refused to even mention. True freedom I desired after all those years of being locked in a prison of pain, anger, self blame, and hatred.

Author's Note

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