in my miserable wasteland of a so-called homeland, one filled with mystery and tragedy, i was an ideal asset to the peoples of my home. i had been a highly valued virtue. when i became of age to roam about this vast yet boring universe, i came across something no on would ever find out about. hate. i was hated when i was younger. deemed different by all the malice filled eyes and discriminating laughs of the others here. excluded from all the others of age in my group. i have no other siblings. making this incredibly frustrating to be alone, and yet incredibly easy to gain what i wanted. being born into a not-so-rich and valued family, a father who was always away, and a mother who wanted nothing more than her worthless son to get up off his own furry rear, and make a living for himself just to support her.
these people, they wanted to take me away, find me at my time of lowly weakness and snatch me up with cold hands, a grasp that wouldn't let up, a smile that would fade, venom leaking from that one expression. i had to constantly avoid others. to avoid them with all costs was to ensure that i would never be touched. my body, is what they were after. i was more wealthy than any would have imagined. it would only take a small move, a wrong move to have me snatched up and taken to a lab. it was my wings, my uncommon wings, unnatural eyes, my fire abilities, everything. that's what they wanted. they wanted to pick me apart and see what makes me tick. my mother, one who i believe shall never deserve to be called that, would've given me up in a heart beat if she knew i was worth millions to the government.
sooner than later, i was tagged as some-kind of witch, after a fight i had instigated and i came out on top, my harasser was covered in burns, and barely alive. after that, and a talk with the elder did i become excluded by peers, out of fear, and the possibility that i was some sort of exorcist and user of black magic. but in all reality, it was just my inherited traits that threw them all off. some of the villagers of my time had believed i was a god. being sent down from the heavens as a sign that the world was coming to an end and the gods were in fact angry at them. others thought i was a spawn of Satan, and a sign of the Chinese Fire dragon Wu Xing. It was also told that the phoenix which was also an imperial symbol along with the dragon.
i wasn't trusted and treated like all the others here, they would tease and nag me sporadically, calling me some kind of animal, a blood thirsty monster, after all, i had gotten the taste of blood on my fangs. i was also deemed as a disgrace to them all, an impurity to their pure bloodlines, and a heartless virus that needed to be cured. i had been imprisoned after that, the incident when i was of a teen age, i had been assigned to help a boy. i had been entitled to help a sick child. he had come down with an illness the healer of my home could not cure. they assigned me to help him. there was a threat on my head. if i did not cure him, and he befell to this sickness, then i would have doomed them all, becoming contaminated by touching this boy, and killing them all.
this boy, i remember had been in a fight with one of the wild animals surrounding out village, he had gotten out badly, nasty flesh wounds and lacerations to his face and jugular. he somehow had survived a day after the incident, despite his very worn shape and malnourished look to his body. they brought him to me, with as much eagerness as a newborn colt trying to suckle their mother for milk. i was in need of an herb that i didn't have with me at that time, it was placed on my shelf days before, i was in stock, and didn't expect to need it. but seeing the large laceration to his jugular, and getting a closer look to see it infected and clotting wrong, i reached over to grab it. this boy was small, around the age of 8, and he had had trouble breathing. the remedy i was creating was to help slow the effects of the terminal illness he was suffering from while i attended to his major wounds. i remember having to lean over him to carefully snatch the herb, a small plant, with the healing powers of a simple adhesive. to slow the gash's bleeding down while i worked on the remedy.
i had snatched it when his body started convulsing. for an 8 year old at the time, going through this, was most defiantly scary, especially if someone was leaning over you trying to grab a suspicious looking herb. i was already whispering words him, trying to calm him down once the tremors stopped. the whines were gurgling, getting deafening by the second. not to mention the fact that his parents by the sound of it were rounding the corner. i believed that they caught me whispering, waving a hand over his face, closing his eyes. the words i were chanting were of an old story i had read while in the archives of the village, most would recognize the song as
hush little baby but to them, probably more of my "black magic" spells. i wold not doubt the fact of them seeing the little boy gasping for breath before making a deafening sound, then lying still.
i had noticed this, only glancing up from my work on the herbal remedy i was finishing. i placed my hands on his throat, checking for a pulse. they probably recognized this as me trying to choke the boy. they rushed in, without entering, without warning, shouting, screaming. i knocked over my remedy, getting a roar out of me. it had taken hours to prepare it let alone make it and they just came in here like they ran the show and knocked it over. it infuriated me. they bring elder in here, telling him that i had murdered their son and i should be tried. he believed them over me, seeing the blood on my hands, from touching his neck, trying to find that blasted pulse. the blood on my clothes, my face, the infuriated look in my eyes. he believed them over me. i couldn't save him because he was too far gone. too far. if they had come to me the minuet they found him, after the attack, i would have been able to heal his wounds, help him. but alas, it was their peril, not his. stupider parents could have more common sense than that.
they dragged me from my home, took me away. they placed me in the center of town, a chained collar around me neck, heavier than anything. but i held up, shackles that limited my movement, keeping me from weilding fire. a mask that covered my muzzle, keeping me from using anything that would get me free. they covered my body in fire resistant clothes, keeping my temperature from melting the metal. it was all in good time that they would have locked me up. this madness that i had been put into changed me. at this time, i hadn't been alright with my mutations, and i was scary to the children of the village because i had been uncomfortable and emotionally detached to myself. but this pain and misery i had been put through, all for a false lead, put me in such a state of shock and confusion that it changed me for good.
