I was born a bastard.

No, I am not referring to my personality, although that would also be true. I mean bastard in a literal sense. Now the fey people don't have the same ideas about marriage as humans, so ordinarily, being a bastard wouldn't be so bad, but I was half-human. An abomination.

Now, I know what you're thinking: 'How tragic!', however sincere or sarcastic that thought may be, but it isn't a tragedy. In fact, if I had to pick one thing I appreciate about my mother, it would be her carelessness in conceiving me. You see, the elves weren't aware that fey and humans could interbreed, and for most other races its true. In the case of the durgan, sprites, and faeries; there's just too much of a size difference. Nymphs and mermen simply cannot conceive with humans, although it has been tried. Fish and primate don't mix, I suppose. The wild elves are isolated in their forest, so if any half-breed children do exist there, no one knows about it but them. So I was the first, and as far as I know, the only half- breed born to the elven race.

And they hated me.

...Well, that's not completely true. There was some hatred, yes, but there was far more fear. Something I've grown used to; apparently I'm a very frightening person and always have been. So if you're still curious, I've managed to compress thousands of years of living into a relatively short autobiography of a half-breed child whose name became homonymous with 'sin'.