Karl Landzaat was not a brave man by nature, not at all.
He had never been good with large crowds, for they made him nervous. He had never tried any kind of dangerous or hair-raising stunt in his youth, preferring to keep his head down at all times and hope beyond hope that he would live to a ripe old age with no trouble at all. To be perfectly honest in regards to Karl, he was not the sort to ever live dangerously because he was far too frightened of the unknown to ever think about stepping outside of his house besides buying groceries for himself or his job at one of the many ironworks plants in Fouzon.
Karl had never considered himself brave.
Yet ironically enough, he fell in love with the one woman whose very existence in Europan society would bring him the sort of scrutiny and disapproval that he would never have been able to stomach on his own.
From the very moment Karl had first set eyes on Lynn, he had been smitten. Love at first sight, as most fairy tales would say. She was beautiful, with her dark blue hair tied back in a simple ponytail. She was graceful and kind, possessing a sensitive soul that cared greatly for those that she cherished most dear. She was also very brave, not afraid to stand up for herself and others in need, something else that Karl found amazing about her. She was everything in personality that Karl wished he was in life.
And yet, there were those who went out of their way to avoid her, not because she acted oddly, or was unappealing, but because she was something that many reviled simply due to her people's ancient past.
Lynn was a Darcsen. A descendent of those who had burned Europa to the ground in a mad campaign of conquest and murder thousands of years ago, a conflict that had, if legends were to be believed, had left the land scarred for centuries after, barren and unsuitable for either crops, man or beast. Only the arrival of the Valkyrur had spared the land further sorrow, and the Darcsen tyrants were cast down and destroyed by their holy blue flames.
The common people had cursed their kind, and had stripped them of their titles and lands. Even their names were not spared; the Darcsen people bear no surnames, a reminder of their age old crimes.
The Darcsen have borne prejudice and hatred ever since. Living on the outskirts of cities and towns, often plying their technical skills toward mining and machinery, many carve out a meager existence while enduring the hate.
The Darcsen do not retaliate. They endure. That has always been the Darcsen way.
Some people had avoided them out of fear of being persecuted themselves. Why ostracize yourself by just being friends with Darcsens? Better to keep ones head down than risk the scorn of your peers, many had thought.
Perhaps for a coward, that advice would have been for the best.
Yet, for all his meekness, Karl never once turned away from Lynn, regardless of the trouble that came his way. He loved her far too much to care.
Love can drive us crazy sometimes.
But then again, one's love for another, regardless of who they are, can become just the strength we need to turn aside even the most venomous of hates ever created.