Crimson_Button last edited by
The elven girl hid within the hollow of a burnt out tree stump. Her father was face down in the mud just yards away, the rain diluting the pool of blood expanding from his body. She watched helplessly as the orcish axe performed the coup de grâce, splitting her father's skull. Her mother and sister lay beside him, their lifeless eyes staring up at the forest canopy.
The girl watched the orcs rummage through their camp to loot her family's meager belongings. As the orcs smashed plots and broke open chests, a light dawned in the girl's mind, like a diamond arrowhead piercing her brain. She looked again at what remained of her family, their lifeless bodies now totally powerless to stop the orcs from destroying everything they had worked so hard to gather. The grunts and snorts of the orcs filled her mind. It all seemed so clear now. Her family died because they were weak. She was hiding because she was weak. The orcs would never have to hide from anything. Their might, their strength, their brutality, it all gave them the power to do whatever they wanted. To take whatever they wanted. They would never need to toil. Never need to scavenge. Never beg from another.
The little elven girl would hide for now. Now she was weak. But she would be strong. Her family had been crushed, but one day she would crush.
She looked again at the orcs.
There was no feeling of hatred toward them.
No more fear.
No pathetic need for revenge.
She would be strong.
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Black Rider last edited by
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