Thanks to this fic goes to LionsandTrolls and DeadGirl19 for supporting the idea and giving me the 'Acrostic poem'. :3 see it right there.
Cruel
Lethal
Elegant
Awesome
Vicious
Efficient
Ruthless
Silent
Cleaver war cry:
WE ARE CLEAVERS, WE ARE CRUEL. WE ARE LETHAL. WE ARE ELEGANT. WE ARE AWESOME. WE ARE VICIOUS, WE ARE EFFICIENT. WE ARE RUTHLESS. WE ARE SILENT!
From the moment a Cleaver is born, they are hidden. Whisked away from their parents under a blanket, they only know their siblings. Each day a different nanny comes in a makes sure that the child is okay, but the child only has their siblings to rely upon. Only the Matron knows if the siblings are actually related by blood or not. Only the Matron knows about the true families. Only the Matron decides who can marry who. You can ask, but in the end she tells you.
A Cleaver grows up only knowing the unwavering support of their siblings. They only have two siblings. Each cleaver can only have three children. Any more are given to a different family, and have no chance of being blood bonded to their siblings. Every so often some babies are adopted by the Grand Mage and are given to the Cleaver's to introduce new blood.
Growing up, a Cleaver is taught everything. Their siblings help them, and they have a different instructor every day. They are in classes of the same age group, but if a Cleaver seems to be getting too friendly with another Cleaver one of the pair is moved to a different group.
You can't risk fraternising.
You can't be close to any apart from your siblings. That's a law. Siblings are provided so you have company, and later in life you get your life partner to rely upon, but being close to anyone else is forbidden because you have to serve your employers, and friendship bonds will stop you from protecting or serving your employers with a guarantee of never letting them down.
Throughout the training you are taught to be cruel and show no mercy to the ones you will be told to kill.
You are taught to be lethal, to be the best of the best.
You are taught to be elegant in your movements, in battle or not.
You are taught to be awesome. You are taught to make others fearful if they know that you're coming for them and to be glad if you're protecting them.
You are taught to be efficient and leave no loose ends when you do a job.
You are taught to be ruthless in achieving the aim you have been set.
You are taught to be silent so you can sneak up in people, and cause no disturbance for your employers.
That is where the name CLEAVERS comes from. A single Cleaver still has all those skills, but is not used in the plural.
Once you are on the job, you cannot be anything other than those things.
But you're on the job with your siblings.
You share the job with your siblings, you're in a rota. Sibling one takes the first day, sibling two takes the second, sibling three takes the third, and then it's back to sibling one.
It's so you don't get tired on the job. The changing of the Cleaver is efficient. No one notices it. On the days when you are off duty, you still have to make sure that the employer is protected, or whatever the job wants you to do, but you do that more discreetly. You wander round with your sibling. On those days you talk, and you keep the bond strong, and you can go round a town if the employer is in one and you have money so you can buy something. You have clothes that are not of the Cleaver kind. These are bought by you. You choose the colours and the style. For the two days when you are not on duty- officially- you can do whatever you want as long as you do not socialise with others properly. You can talk, if made to, but you are only allowed to chat or perform other means of proper social interaction with your siblings.
You are allowed the off time because a Cleaver is essentially human.
In your core, you are a human being. Evolution has bred Cleavers to be faster, stronger, better than the mages and the mortals, but you still need contact. You need freedom. As a Cleaver, you don't have much, but what you can have is given to you.
You have contact with others, but only rely on your siblings.
You have a life where you can talk and admire and have fun outside of the job.
You are elegant in all ways- dancing, movements, speech- and use that to your advantage on the three days a year when a Cleaver can stop being a Cleaver, let the young Cleavers have their job experience and you and your siblings can go off into town and do anything.
You can make others admire you with your gracefulness or your abilities, you can get your siblings and yourself promoted if you're good enough.
You are victorious in whatever you do.
You are efficient. You are elegant.
You are righteous.
You work in silence.
When you start to slow down, start to not be as good at fighting, your whole team stops working. But you never completely stop.
When you stop working as a fighting force, you are given your life partner. You are given a week to look for your own, bit in the end you are matched with one which you work well with. That you won't argue with.
You have children who are taken away from you, you teach a different class every day, though a class will be returned to you years later.
You go out into the town and relax. You socialise with anyone you want and you make acquaintances. You have fun and you buy clothes.
You go to the tailor that makes all the Cleaver's gray clothes and you take them back to where you live.
In the years of your life where you are not an elder, but are classed as one you explore where the Cleaver Community lives and dies.
The Cleaver's are born in an old volcano. Houses and shops have been constructed, and it's nice. It's a dead volcano, it will never erupt again, but the Cleaver's make sure that no one comes near by making the ground hot and making fake fumes.
The job is given to the 'retired' Cleaver's and the others, some young, some old, who will never be a proper Cleaver because they have a broken limb or something. An asthmatic Cleaver is not kept, because it is passed down through blood. They are given to people who want a child, or, in the rarest cases, to Orphanages.
That's very rare, though.
The retired Cleaver's are allowed to choose jobs. They all have to instruct, but some choose that as their job. So!e choose the heating of the rocks as a job. Some choose the making of the fumes as a job. Some rum the shops. Some go through the town and buy food. Some catch up on gossip- mortal or mage. Some work on computers. Some allocate the Cleaver's to the employers.
The Cleaver's still work in their groups. They never stop being in their groups, and they never stop working.
When they feel like they can't work anymore, the trio will make a decision.
Keep working, or die?
To die they walk along the Path and into the side of the Volcano.
They leave their Cleaver clothes and weapons behind, but take anything that they want of they purchased. They will take the weapon that they need to kill some of the beasts. They will wear the clothes that will be of their favourite colour.
And they will die while trying to kill some of the beasts that keep the Cleaver's sticking to this life.
It's probably different to what you expect a Cleaver's life to be, but this is my opinion.
Also, should I continue with it and write down the life of a Cleaver, or should this be a one shot?
Finally, whoever reads this should write their own Cleaver fanfics down! They get little or no recognition... Give them some love 3
And yes, that is a challenge. Tell me if you're going to so I can read it!