Chapter Three: The Lonely Elf

"I love my mother and father, and they love me too and and and we would always play."

Arya Chatowä is her name. Perched on a tree branch, she looks around her, how peaceful and quiet, she thought. That memory of hers was always engraved into her memory. Her, a little elf, and her brave mama and papa, two of the highest in command for the elvish forces, took orders from the king himself, but alas, perish they did. Turning sixteen then, she watches as her parents are slaughtered in there own home, by what the elves called, The First Wave. The First Wave was of the new human race, Generation M they called themselves, murders to her eyes. The First Wave had a simple goal, ally with those who disliked the elves, and kill all elves, as well half-elves. Now Arya is fifty, on the run, a fugitive to the Dwarves, Humans and Demons. Eventually all things come to an end, and so did Arya, or so she thought, but then, it reached out to her, an member of the Animila Clan, saving her, the person told her name, "Sarah Scones," they said, with such a nice, low tone, enough to make Arya feel like a baby cradling in a mother's loving arms.

Sarah had taught Arya how to control her light magic, but it wasn't enough to save her...in the end, Sarah died in Aryas arms. Now Arya is seventy-five and alone once more, to her dismay anyways. Humans, they always take what she cared most for. Once again, Arya Chatowä is all alone.

At age one-hundred and thirty, Arya roams the world alone, assisting anyone who cries out, well, except humans. Many saved by her, except one child, their name was Oswald, Oswald Grimm. He was twenty at the time, but his magic was weak, she found him tied to a tree in the forest, no idea how he got there, she helped him down, but his ears, they were human...the scent of an elf, but the ears of a human, she questioned it, but all was answered when she saw him.....Father Escobar. He calmly walked through the trees, roughly in his fifties, maybe older, Arya took a good look at him as she entered her battle stance, but all in an instance, she saw a flash of light, turned and saw Oswald Grimm...dead. "Who are you!"

Father Escobar turned to Arya, "The pope, Father Escobar, and you my victim?"

Her teeth chattered, "Your executioner" rage engulfed her, lunging forward at Father, she attack, but all over in one strike. Now Arya laid paralyzed on the ground,

"A shame, well I'm off," Father Escobar left Arya on the ground, to slowly die to whatever came first.

It's been two days now, Arya was starving and thristy, suffering she felt, suffering is all she ever was allowed to feel....when she had lost all hope, she heard a voice close your eyes it said, with no other choice, she did excatly that. Reopening her eyes she saw a man, he strongly resembled the Grim Reaper, not the rumor but the one in fairy tails, reaching out to him, she realized she could move again. Bouncing onto her feet, she looked at the figure once again, but it was gone. Instead it left something else. A potion. Starving and thirsty, dirty and all, she drowned it. Now power's surged within her, she felt dark energy flowing in her veins, also awaking her once dormant powers, she began training at once, one thought in her mind, "I will rid this world of the impure, those who threaten the innocent."

Arya, age one-hundred and forty-five. Lurking amongst a crowd of people, she is now in the human capital looking for the man, Father Escobar. Shes waited for this moment, but now things complicate the situation. She was told he was never guarded, now someone in a black cloak, this won't stop her. Loading a posion dart into her blow gun, she made sure to keep her hood on and stay in the crowd, and she fired. It was caught by the man in black, turning, his red eyes meeting her blue eyes....she was to impatient.