My story. I remember when I was first asked that, and I remember who asked it. A siren. A crafty mer-witch. I don't remember her name exactly, but she had long, bright red hair. "What is your story?" she had asked after she was finished telling me about how she had been around since the dawn of time. "What is your story? How did you become who you are today?" My answer was simple. In a sense...
About one hundred years ago, my grandfather, Darius, made a deal with the Guardian of Fear. Apparently, Fear was going to take his brother's soul and use it as his own, to keep himself from dying. My grandfather pleaded with him for seven years, and after reaching no solid agreement, he made one last desperate attempt. He told Fear that if he left his brother's soul alone, he could have any one of his descendants he pleased. And so, Fear told him, "I accept this offer. And I know which one of your descendants I will choose. She will be young, bold, and know no fear of anything but fear itself. She will be of your blood, and your blood only. She will be your granddaughter. And on the Christmas Eve of her seventeenth year, I will come for her. She will be my second in command, and I will keep her soul for the rest of eternity."
Hearing this, my grandfather tried to take back his offer. I guess he did actually take into consideration what his selfish offer might do to me, but it was too late. Fear left his brother, and never returned. And so, fifty years later, I was born. And my grandfather knew, I was the one Fear was referring to all those years ago.
My grandfather was good to me. He never yelled at me, never told me what to do, and always gave me the things I wanted or needed. Not that a young girl living in the mid-eighteenth century could ask for much. But everything he did was for me. And the day I turned seventeen was the day that I realized why.