Prologue

The dark cobble floors of the church flowed with blood as the couple fell to their knees before their child. The child was 28, A young age for an elf of his tribe, and was the size of a mere 8-year-old human child. A malicious laugh echoed around the room as the baron of the land watched his prey crawl away to their offspring.

"What a Beautiful sight!~" the baron called out as he stepped forward, His red cape and Golden sword embedding itself in the child's mind like a scar.

"Please have mercy on our child!" The couple yelled as they got closer and closer to the young boy, crawling like he would be their salvation.

A Lengthy pause was the reply before the footsteps of the baron rang in the parents' ears. "No" The baron stated as he unsheathed his sword and ended the parents' lives right in front of their innocent child.

The baron stepped forward and stared at the sobbing boy. "You see your miserable mother and father on the floor?, Get ready to join them!"

The baron raised his sword above his head and suddenly grinned as his expression turned from one of anger to one of superiority. He brought the sword down to not kill the boy but instead maim him by removing his left arm from his body.

"I want you to remember who brought you to your knees, And then you will wish you had died by my hand, worthless peasant"

The baron kicked the child as he left through the entrance of the church while whistling an eerie tune. The snow crunching beneath his greaves sent shivers down the boy's spine, A sense only matched by his intense pain and fear.

The sound of footsteps dimmed and the boy's eyes started to close as he felt that he was lifted off the cobbles and into someone or something's arms.

That Boy, Was Syrian.