Prelude

I may be one of Atlas's greatest huntresses.

But I know myself to be something significantly different. Rather, I remember years ago when I used to be the most flawed girl in my family who regularly yelled and screamed at my father every time he disagreed with one of my decisions.

A rebellious and entitled child, I know, but I hope, after I finish my story, that you will come to understand my whole dream was to pass all of my father's expectations in ways he could never comprehend.

So where do I begin? Ah yes, when I was just a twelve-year-old little girl aspiring to become one of the greatest warriors ever and I was sitting at a dinner table with my stubborn-ass family eating steak and mashed potatoes with the most beautiful silverware and clothes a high-class family could wear.

"Don't even start," my father would say before he sipped from his wine glass and placed it back down. "We are not going to have this discussion over and over again."

He must have seen me getting eager to speak.

"But Dad," I whined, looking over at him with contempt, "I can do it; I've begun training!"

"You're wasting your time." He cut a slice from his steak, stuffing it in his mouth.

I was just waiting for a gesture that would say he was thinking about the empty seat beside him.

Oh, how he loved to boil our blood by mentioning Mother's fate at war with her alcoholism a long time ago.

"Besides," he continued.

Here we go.

"...I promised your mother I would keep you all safe."

That was when I stood up to slam everything I held down on the table, staring into him with rage while he calmly continued eating, ignoring me

"Dad," I yelled, leaning forward as I felt my veins readying to pop, "why do you always say that? Besides, it's not like you cared about her."

"Because it is the truth, and watch your tongue." He cut another slice, looking up at me deliberately.

He truly did not give a damn about what I wanted.

"You are to only consider the battlefield when you are older, and even then," he trailed off, still enjoying his meal, "I may reconsider allowing any of you to risk your lives; losing even one of you would taint our name, as it has already done so in Mother's case."

We had argued so many times about how much our last name mattered to him and how much it did not to me that as soon as it came to my mind, I stood still and mentally tossed it aside, knowing if we started yelling about it, our opinions would remain unchanged the whole way through.

"Our name," I muttered, recomposing myself before sitting back down and grabbing my fork and knife, staring emptily at the food before me. "Our name, hmph."

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

The dinner went by in my displeasure-ridden silence as he mouthed on more and more about our family history as I ignored everything other than an interesting tidbit here and there. ("Your greatest grandfather struck down five grimm with one strike; your greatest grandmother gave birth to quintuplets; and I blah-blah-blah-blah-blah-blah…") I occasionally looked at my younger brother, Whitley, asking via facial expressions what he thought about father's words.

He merely shrugged.

I stared forward again, absolutely fucking done with this shit.

Once the meal was over, I instantly took off to my room down the hall, entered to my right, grabbed the doorknob, and slammed the door shut behind me.

I retreated to my desk where I pulled the chair out, sat down on it, pulled it a little bit forward, planted my elbows on the solid wood, and placed my hands on my forehead, pushing away my hair so my eyes were perfectly visible.

"He doesn't know anything," I repeatedly cursed and thought to myself as the moon rose higher in the sky where I could see it through my glass-paned window.

I looked out at it, wondering if I could just wish upon a star for a better man to believe in me.

I mean, a lot of our (sur)names our based on folklore, right?

So I silently wished again and again, thinking about how my training I had started at the academy I enlisted myself in via fake documents would one day mold me into the strong woman who could lead herself one day without her father breathing down her neck.

Tears formed in my eyes as I considered the future and whether or not my teacher would approve of my overall objective; he does value following your parents' lead, after all, and if he does not like what I have to say, then I would have to find an adult huntsman or huntress who does.

What sane adult completely listens to a child's wishes, anyway?

With that thought and staring at the night sky, I looked over at my bed and its comfy sheets and decided these thoughts were best left for tomorrow, and that a racing mind needs to slow down for several hours so it can rev back up later at full speed.

I stood up from my chair and walked around it to fling myself face-first onto my bed, instantly drained from everything in the day before I fell unconscious in seconds, probably snoozing the entire time.