Hello Fair One

I remember all of it. Memory of a half-elf I guess. My Mother’s meticulous way of doing her mascara. Me sitting in front of the fancy mirror she had brought from her childhood home, as she brushed my black curls. My Father teaching me to sail. My Mother teaching me how to paint my face. What color best complimented my rare, elven, purple eyes. I had many of my Mom’s features. Her face, and her hair color. My eyes were all my own though. Though makeup was still perfect. My finger nails had been chipped from griping the sword the way I was. Black nails. I always wore black. Like I was always in mourning. “Focus Fair One.” My Goddess’s voice echo in my mind, and I try to push away the visions of my past. The smell of blood is strong in the air. Blood pooled at my boots. It was smeared across the cavern walls. It was everywhere. On the floor, splattered across the my tail-coat, and in the air. The strong metallic smell. It helped me focus on the moment, and push away memories. Undead orcs. Large folk they were. Even more dangerous when they were undead. I flip the hilt of the sword in my hand. Nothing much fancy about it, a bit lighter than a sword its size. An average medium size sword. One of the undead orcs rush forward. This one with a shield. I had done enough research and interviews to know this particular town was known for its bandits on this separated, mountain trail. These bandits had been unfortunate enough to become undead. Hungry and wanting to grow there numbers. Some part of themselves still there, but they weren’t good people when they were alive ether. I sheath my sword. They begin to surround me. The last six left standing anyway. I fix my hair behind my pointed ears. The one with a shield begins to charge me. I summon my scythe to my hand. Wings spread from my back, and I rise off the ground. I speak the words. 

“You have been judged.”