Life of Purity.

A snowy white carriage, with sharp, gold details, strolled along the soaked trail. One coachman sat in the front, he was wearing a dark black shirt with brown pants. It was safe to say he wasn't prepared to be leading the carriage. The rain from the grey clouds above shunned his sight. His dark brown eyelashes scorned the continuous water from his sight. His breath was rapid, his heart was pounding, and his foot continuously tapped on the ground trying to keep himself awake.

*thump*

*brr*

*bum*

With every five pounds, he took a gasp of air. Reminding himself of what's at stake. He, whose name is Wauris Grail, continued this process over and over. Wauris, a twenty-two-year-old man, is a fresh coachman out of training. Wauris had brown doe eyes, his hair was drenched, however, it was usually fixed perfectly with two light brown braids hanging down. He had a welcoming smile with every client, yet, that facade was long gone. Wauris carried a long face, with deep bags under his eyes.

Him nor his horses could hold on for any longer, the most the horses could go is equivalent to thirty minutes. He yanked the leash back with as much force as he could accumulate. They came to a slow stop and Wauris took a step down from the chair. He had to be fast, no time could be wasted as such. He drew the long silver sword that was recently gifted to him and slashed the leashes. Letting the horses go. He wobbled with every fast step but he finally got to the white carries door.

He swung it open to a small little girl, about the age of seven, and an infant baby boy. The little girl swung he face towards the open door, a worried look hung over her face. Her long white hair that reached her bum, seemed to be containing some distress. She also had deep bags under her eyes, yet they weren't as bad as Wauris. It didn't take her a second to grab the cloth and wrap her brother in it. She wrapped him tightly and put all of the excess resources into a silver ring. Hurridly, did she grab him and headed over to the coachman who was going to pass out any second. "Madam, we-we... need to le...ave." Wauris barely spilled out.

With adrenaline running through her veins, she didn't take a second to drag the young man into the forest. He held him by his thigh, but it was enough to pull him along. Wauris was a walking slave, no sign of consciousness was there, and the only thing that was carried out was his father's last wish. It was his determination that led him all the way here.

"Lady Claire, pl..ease g-go without me." Wauris fell limp, shcoking the young lady. Maybe it was sleep deprivation, the lack of food, or even the guilt he carried. But, Wauris was as good as dead, with brown dirt underneath his rough face. He knew his job was dangerous, but not once in his seven years of training did he think this would happen. No one prepared him for such an outcome. The many classes, mentors, and friends he hung around couldn't have taught him how the end of such a short journey could've been.

They were taught how to act in a dangerous situation, they taught Wauris swordsman ship enough to fend off a small group of bandits. And that was enough for coachmen. That's at least what everybody thought, but with his last prying pondered he wanted to rewind everything. Before he was delighted, it felt like he succeed. But now, presently, he felt like he hasn't done adequately. Nowhere was he inclined, he felt as if he had so much more.

However, fate didn't.

Waris's pulse went flat. The two small, chubby fingers were on the neck of the dead man. The girl in the white hair removed them and continued running with her small, not-so-developed, legs. Claire huffed in and out so fast it felt like there was no air to breathe. It was only a short amount of time before she would also collapse along with Wauris. Claire swerved through the trees, nothing in this forest stood out. It felt as if she was running in the same spot. But, her eyes weren't trained to see the differences. She was only a child.

A child who barely even lived half a decade.

A child who is still learning how to speak correctly.

A child who is still a kid.

The burden of a lifetime was pressed upon her shoulders, and it weighed down many lives. But all she could do for not is keep her eyes open and pray she doesn't get caught. 'Not yet," she thought while looking down at the baby in her arms. His hair was split in half. One side, pure white, not an ounce of dirt could be seen on it; while the other side was pitch black. His chubby baby skin was also split down the middle, half of his skin was aligned with white inscriptions, something never seen before. They seemed to rotate clockwise on his skin. The other side of his body was filled with black inscriptions, pitch black. The dark inscriptions rotated counter-clockwise. They littered his skin like the white ones, this was incredible. He was something different. However, his eyes were so dull, it looked like they were looking death in the face every time they looked at him. It felt like he could read them with one look. The infant carried no name.

Though, even with all of this, Claire, summed to not care about any of it. All she knew was she needed to protect her brother, at all costs. So when she heard the loud bodies rusningnint their direction, she stood behind a gigantic tree. She took out the items 'mama' and 'papa' gave her, and sat them just how they rushedly explained.

"Claire put these pieces together like a circle. You have to grab the white powder, you remember what it looks like right? Alright, then draw an amazing diamond in the middle of the circle. Remember! You can't draw outside the lines, okay baby!"

"Then put all of the items I gave u on each point! Then sit ur brother down in the middle, then step inside with him; remember you have to be fast, okay? Claire, remember that you have to be careful with this step."

"Cut your hand with the dagger I gave you, alright? It's going to hurt...but only for a short time, be wary Claire."

Tears fled her vision, but she wiped them off with the bottom of her nightgown. She took out the silver dagger 'Papa' gave her. Claire looked at her brother his caring eyes as she sliced her hand. She let out a cry of pain, and dropped the dagger, the drop of deep red blood dripped on the white dust. It seemed to be a chain reaction, each of the artifacts glowed with might, the circle seemed to be the first thing to glow a light red, then flowing to the corner of the diamond to the middle. Unfortunately, before Claire could step forward a fat dagger shot directly into her forehead. She couldn't even see it coming. Claire grew unbalanced in seconds and fell to the ground with a thud.

Claire's skin grew paler, her blue eyes grew empty but before she could even think a flood of red light cleared her vision... just before she died a dog's death. The boy she was carrying before was gone like he was never here. Nothing was left. Not the artifacts that were a light gold, or the white don't that helped create the piece of art.

it was only Claire lying there, helpless and dead.