A lone figure stood on the cliff over looking the kingdom of Atara, blood looked as though it poured from the sky and the world turned crimson as if nature was acting upon the will of the figure soaked in blood, eyes that demanded justice, that demanded vengeance in the form of blood, eyes of a demon, their anger and sadness could be felt through the chaos that surrounded them... Eyes that seared into your soul, but did not see the war that rose around them. It was a brutal dance that circled the figure, a dance of war men fought, swords drawn fighting with all their strength some won and some fell neither affected the figure that stood in the middle. A woman surrounded by a sea of faces and tragedy yet her eyes bespoke of harder times, of worse pains then seeing a friend fall in battle, it was then that she pulled deadly daggers from there sheath and rushed into the battle, cutting down her foes without a second glance. Blood and rain trickled down her beautiful emotionless face, gone was the gruesome scene of battle instead a man stood in front of her and held her in his arms as if he would never let go, in a garden surrounded by roses, before a dagger sank into her skin, blood dripped upon the white roses of the garden turning them crimson red.
The nightmare was an old one, one that she had many nights, one that she was never sure if it was from her past or simply just a nightmare. Life for her had started at 17, for the past three years she had been living a new life and the pieces to her missing puzzle had yet to come. There was so much she did not remember and it was unlikely that she would three years is a long time to wait for a memory that might not return to return, as she looked at what this place had turned into from what she'd been told she wondered if she wanted it to ever return. They told her this land had once been peaceful and prosperous, full of hope and kindness, that was before the wars came. The wars changed everything and everyone leaving only wreckage in its place, now the land of was home to thieves and mercenaries, a play ground in a crimson hell. Looking out the window of her small room she could she that blood colored the streets mixing in with the puddles the rain left behind, no matter how much it rained the taint of blood would forever scar the land, so much had already been split and so much more will continue to spill. There would be no end and all knew it, there was no place for woman or children, they were the helpless, the burdened and the broken, they were the ones who had no hope. For those who did have hope fought and ended up in the streets as a bloodied corpse. "Trust no but yourself and your ability with the weapons you have, that will keep you alive." That is what the old man had once said, looking at the chaos that it could cause made me wonder. It was something that could not or would not be changed until war ended or the Crimson King was killed, but that would not be an easy task for any man, many had tried in the past but none had even put a scratch on the man. Life was left at the mercy of the strongest and if you were not strong than you would be crushed and tossed aside like trash, if you were left alive you would be lucky, most forfeited their lives if they did not choice wisely on who they relied on to protect them. This world had turned into a kill or be killed world and if you choose to stick by your morals of peace you were the first to die. To many bodies already littered the streets of towns. Me... well I suppose I am a traveller, traveling from town to town, searching for something that escapes my memory but something I know must be important, if nothing else perhaps it will rid me of these nightmares.