A/N: This started as a result of English homework... lol. It will be a collection of short stories of my Warlock from World of Warcraft.
This is the beginning of the story of Diyami...
She awoke, slowly. Unaware of where she was or what had transpired, until she saw the platinum locks that had once been her hair, unceremoniously thrown across the room. The unwanted memories of the night's events thrust themselves upon her. She had for filled her contract and linked with the demonic souls of the Twisted Neither. She was now a Warlock.
Diyami felt the weight of shame like a lead ball in her gut, but this new power gave her the leverage to fight-back, never to be a lower class person again. No-one would ever use and manipulate her as they had in the passed. It felt as if, not a single part of her could be free from the past. The feeling consumed her body and soul. It had shattered her dreams; much like a mirror, into several pieces that were small and jagged, and any attempt to pick them up would prick and besmirch and bloody her fingers. It left her dreams crumbled and just out of reach. With dismay she believed the lovely gleaming shards that once embraced all of her hopes, dreams, and love could never be put back together. But now, she could start anew.
That shame that not only massacred her dreams, but acted as an anchored, trapped her down in this reality, a realm that was colorless, and macabre, was now tinted green with the demonic energies that she could control.
A twisted smile played on her lips. Mishaps she had gone a little mad, yet on this day she swear a blood oath, to put the past behind her. It would be hard; however, she would hold to it... if it didn't try to find her.
The feeling of the demonic power continued to expand and caged her within its cold, metallic confines. It's encroaching embraced made her feel used and dirty.
"I'll get use to it...," The white haired warlock whispered to her self. She closed her eyes and saw her older sister.
"Diyami," The older girl, looked down at a 7 year old Diyami, "You see that person coming out of the Mage District?"
Her voice held venom, "That is a person whom had sold their soul. A Warlock. Evil Mages. You are gifted, please don't get pulled into the darkness." "I'm leaving for Dalaran soon. I won't be hear to guide you any more little one."
Tears begin to spill from the new locks eyes as the memory pulled at her heart, "Curse you, Arthas!" she yelled in her mine pulling her free from the heart braking memory.
Shacking her head, the nervous girl tried to convince herself of the lie,"Their dead. There's no going back. This is a one way ticket. You know it going into it."
Still, she grabbed at the remnants of material lying next to her and tried to scrub the filth mark off of her, yet no matter what she did to free herself from its touch, it clung to her. It grasped and marked her for all to see the dishonor that was now intimately hers alone. The girl felt as if the entire world could see this stigma that the humiliation had left. She threw the scrap across the room; no amount of scrubbing would free her from the brand that was left in its wake. The once doe eye girl came to this conclusion as she accepted the hated feelings of shame that lavished at her. It was a taint that suited this new sinister world that surrounded her.
The Demonic energy flow throw her body. The cursed mark begin to glow on her skin. Crystal eyes entranced with the magic. Vagely her mind heard foot falls off behind the locked door. The order was coming to see if she lived throw the meeting.