I am Araya the Rogue!
The Guru prophetized my demise because I didn't let his holy men mesmerize me with their eloquent nonsense and turned the people against me.
Ha! See how I care!
Kings, Councilmen, nobles, even men of science know nothing of the world outside their palaces; they just rot and stagnate until they melt into empty shells capable of repeating the same age-old ideas, waiting for someone new but equally bad to take their place.
I refuse to do so. I'll travel around the world and question everything I see, gamble in the worst taverns, fight for my life on a street corner and die either with a knife in my hand or my trusty pen writing my breath-taking autobiography.
I have shoulder-lenght, wavy raven locks I'm *extremely* proud of, forest green eyes and caramel skin, all gifts of my elven mother.
I also inherited my wit and charm from daddy dearest, along with quick fingers and roguish smirk.
A Sentimental Value
It was night.
The Moon was at her zenith when I scampered off my bed and pulled out my anonymous travelling clothes and boots from a hidden compartment in my closet.
I lingered looking at my mother's portrait in the hallway, but knew in my heart of hearts that if I was truly to start my life from scratch, I had to leave her behind for good, even if it meant forgetting her face for good.
I quietly made my way out through the stables, but as I was to leap over the fence and run away for good, a round shape carelessly thrown away caught my eye.
I smiled. It was the flail mom gave to me when I learnt how to drive a carriage and ride a horse.
Without thinking, I wrapped around itself and hung it to my belt.
Mother might be dead, but her lessons may be of use to me yet.
Dear diary, dare I say yesterday was eventful to say the least!
I was meandering the streets at night (With no mischievous intent whatsoever, I swear!) when I saw a bulky silhouette drag something suspiciously human-looking in a narrow alley.
i quietly creeped closer with my back to the wall. As I suspected, the man was pulling down his breeches in front of an unconscious girl.
I unhooked my flail from my belt, snuck behind him and curled it around his throat.
We wrestled for a minute or so, but he was suffocating and in a minute or so he blacked out.
I kicked him in the face a couple, what am I saying a dozen times for good measure and turned towards the girl.
I picked her up and walked to the tavern, where Stefan (Bless his heart) helped me get her upstairs and gave me a pint of his best ale for my good deed. I wonder if he would have done the same if he knew I took every scrap of metal in her and her rapist's pocket.
Hey, even dashing cavaliers have to pay their rent, you see what I'm saying?
Anyway, today she came down the stairs in a fury. As soon as she saw me eating breakfast in a corner, she bellowed "YOU" and charged, grabbed my collar and shook me with all her (Laughable, really) might.
"Do you have any IDEA how long I had to smile at old geezers who grabbed my arse every time I passed by their table to get that money?! GIVE. IT. BACK!"
I was dazzled for a moment, I'll admit as much. Then I threw my head back and laughed.
"Alas, heroic deeds are not so appreciated as they once were! Here are your hard earned wages back my sweet damsel, may they serve you well!"
I snatched all the money I took from her and the disgusting bastard from hidden pouches in my cloak and slipped it in her pockets with a flirtatious smirk. She blushed, I think.
"Gentlemen, fiery damsels and everyone in between! I shall be on my way." I got up and whisked to the door.
"Wait!" I pivoted to get one last good look at the girl.
She was pretty. Her dark hair was coiled in braids, from which many rebellious locks protruded like black thorns from a rose. I glanced appreciatively at the smooth brown skin of her barely exposed collar, her full curved lips and finally the sharp, glaring black eyes which looked as if they wanted to smolder me to ashes from across the room.
"Thank you. For-for saving me, I mean. I'm Mia."
Was she nervous now? How cute.
I gave her my most infuriating, [crap]-eating grin and answered "You're very welcome, sweetheart. My name is Araya, by the by. Just in case you were to look for me someday."
Reflections On Your Mother
I thought of mother today. Mother, with her childlike enthusiasm and fearsome wrath.
I wonder if she is in a better place now. Now that I think of it, reality always seemed to fit her poorly, as it does with heroes, madmen and weak souls. I think she switched continuously between the three, so often really that even in my later years I could seldom tell which one of them was speaking through her.
It is quite impressive how she could mask obsession with care, wisdom with naivety and reality with dreams. She had a way of bending perception to her will, like a curtain she dropped in front of the world to shield me from it and trap me in herself forever.
She was twisted and innocent, and I believe in a wretched way her love for me was greater than the sky and purer than ice. In the end, I believe no words can fully express mother, because like many gods she was constantly one thing and its very opposite at the same time.
I loved her dearly, as much as you can love someone remaining sane, and I wish she was still here. But without her and her scorching love, I am free. Her love chained me, but it gave me the strength to break free of itself, to understand that the freedom and self are as sacred, if not more, as any relationship.
So I ran. I abandoned mother, I wasn't at her side when she died. It broke my heart. But I know in my heart of hearts that if for a moment she could understand, she would beam with pride at my decision.
The sun is rising, and I have to go.
Mother, if you read this, I hope you know how much I loved you.