Magic.
That was all I ever wanted. Instead, I had to watch my father, King of Daemyn, get brutally murdered in front of the entire back-stabbing, gods- cursed 'court', which was actually a pretty prosperous tavern, The Griffin's Perch. Because I was hidden in the rafters of the inn, no one knew I was there.
No one except ol' Matty, whom I presumed was deaf, and he was usually so drunk he didn't know up from down; and one of my pals, Acuzzy. Acuzzy was the kind of person that, when he would hit you, you would stay in the dirt for fear of being hit again. He was a tall, 15-year-old guy with coal black eyes, floppy yellow hair and a rather easy-going grin that he used whenever he called me by my nickname, Dae, pronounced die. We loved each other like we were brothers, even if he did spend most of his time with me keeping me from being attacked. My other best companion was 12-year-old Phrophess, but we called her Phez. She had curly tresses the color of amber, bright green eyes, a cheerful disposition and almost unexcelled magical skills, or at least the ability to sense spells. She was a master thief, with a gift for telling what was valuable and what wasn't. She moved with the silence and grace of a feline.
When my father was slaughtered, his murderers figured they might as well slay me too, so I fled with my friends to a neighboring town, Sormac, where my uncle took us in and taught us how to wield swords, axes and other weapons. We also learned hand-to-hand combat. I was best at that because I was small, lean and had reflexes faster than a whip.
That speed saved my life.
I was walking on my thirteenth birthday, sometime 'round the height of Mead Moon, so it was still rather warm, even at the mid-night hour that I was wandering about at. Passing by the local tavern, I heard fighting in a dark niche between buildings. Venturing closer, I caught snatches of swearing.
"Aiae! Keep......(your damn grabbers) .....off of me! By...(the gods)...I swear I'll ....(chop off).... your dirty hands if they come near me again!! Eeiiiiiiii!"
I turned the corner and ducked as a long piece of wood, a staff, sailed over my head, missing me by inches. I dodged as the owner was flung at the wall behind me. I usually was the kind who never fought at all, excepting in self-defense, which was pretty much the only thing I had been trained in.
But for some reason, I felt compelled to help this unfortunate person. Glancing at the direction they came from, I saw a burly drunk. He roared at me and charged. Dropping into a fighter's crouch, I almost whipped out one of the multiple daggers I carried with me at all times, but thought better of it. Instead, I flung myself to the side and he crashed into the wall. As he picked himself up, I circled round him and leapt onto a ledge protruding from a building. He got up and staggered around, searching for me.
When his back was turned, I yanked out a knife and pounced on his back, my blade pressed lightly to his neck, but not breaking the skin. He fell to his knees, panting. I leaned close to his ear and whispered, "You are drunk. That being the case, you got no better judgment. I'm letting you live for nows, but if I ever find you doing this again, or even trying this again, I'm swearing by Mira and Asaude I will kill you."
Having given my warning, I nicked the skin so he would remember me, then I rolled off him. He stood up unsteadily and stumbled off, a hand pressed against his scratch. Hearing a groan, I whipped my head 'round and searched for the reason to the scuffle. I hurried over to the quivering heap and rolled them over. It was too dark to see their face, but I was pretty sure that, if they were the owner of the voice I had heard, they were female.