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This diary entry is written by BrokenNotDestroyed. ( View all entries )

Shard 1: Better StoriesCategory: My Fiction Story
Sunday, 17 April 2011
06:40:57 PM (GMT)
Once upon a time I had better stories to tell. I had an... unusual upbringing; when
my oldest brother died at the age of eight, my two-year-old twin and I noticed that
our parents were fighting more than usual. Our brother had been the angel on Earth
that kept our family functional. Mama had a daughter that was only my half sister.
She had cheated on Papa but he loved her so much that he didn't leave. Then my twin
brother and I were born.  Mama never loved us. On one occasion we were at a festival
and she abandoned us, all but her own daughter. Thank God that Papa found us.
In the world I grew up in, certain people had strange abilities to shape-shift into
wolves. Full wolves, not some stupid werewolf thing. There was an option to retain
human form with the addition of wolf's ears or tail or somesuch. Then, among those,
there were groups that had elemental powers, elements including Ice, Water, Earth,
Lightning, Fire and Air. The element was a random gift, having nothing to do with the
person's lineage or their birthday. Papa said that "the element makes the man, not
the other way around." Along with elemental power came the ability to disconnect the
soul from the body and travel the Earth in soul form, which depended on that person's
spirit animal. There were some abilities that had to do with lineage. There were
three clans: Starr, Crescent, and Hart. Each clan had different abilities, but we
won't go there yet.
I have black, straight hair and big, black eyes like Mama. I have Papa's pride and
sense of honor. I hate showing my right eye, because the sight of it disturbs some
people. I'm headstrong and independant. My element is fire, my soul is wolf, my fur
is black as night.
When I was four, Mama kicked Papa out of the house. My brother and I cried as Mama's
daughter laughed and taunted us. A few days later, Papa came back for his kids. Mama
told him to get the hell out of her house, but he only wanted his kids. She phased to
her wolf form and attacked Papa. He fought back. It was so frightening that I used my
fire. The house burned down and we were seperated. I didn't know if any of my family
was still alive as I walked through the snow to the bridge where Papa had taken us
fishing. I sat almost motionless there for three days.
Then his shadow fell across me. I looked up. There was a very tall man standing about
a foot away from me. His red eyes held pity. He had black hair and a red cape that
seemed to float in the cold breeze.
"What are you doing here all alone?" he asked in a rough voice. Rough sounding, but
gentle-toned. I didn't answer. He came closer and stood over me. 
"Did you live in that house?" he asked, nodding toward the place where my house had
once stood. I nodded.
"Are you the youngest daughter?"
I nodded. He smiled gently and held out his hand. The smile faded and he became
serious. "Come with me. I'll take care of you."
I hesitated. Who was he and why were his eyes red? Would he hurt me or kill me? Then
again, his eyes were somehow comforting and his voice familiar. I sensed no
hostility. I put my little hand in his.
"Your name is Age now. Forget your first family's name for you." he said, picking me
up. He was warm and comforting and soon I fell asleep.

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