We've been living in our world for thousands of years. We never did anything wrong or made any of the other inhabitants angry with us. We went along with our lives, playing and loving and sustaining ourselves like any living being would do. Whenever we had visitors, we were all kind to them and our royal family was especially polite and courteous. Even when they came.
I remember when they first set their feet upon our ground. I was helping my mother harvest the strawberries and grapes while my little sister played by us with our pet dog. I was taking a break when I saw one of them. He was…strange looking, I give you that. He was wearing a weird outfit…I don't remember it too much anymore, but it was like a black cloak with red and green in the front. I never got to see his face for it was covered by a mask. He had arms that seemed to meld into his body when he wanted to…Like I said, strange.
Now, I just want to tell you that I have manners. I really do. My mother always told me to never stare at someone—it's rude. But, you know…I couldn't stop staring at him. I know my gaze probably told him I thought he was a freak, but it's not like I could help it. He was strange looking, but more than just that. He looked completely harmless, but…My senses were going off the charts. I could practically feel cunning and evil rolling off of him in great, big waves.
Oh yeah, that's another thing about our race. Most of us are gifted with the ability to sense emotions if they're really strong. I guess…it's sort of like empathy. You know, having that ability to feel someone's emotions? Well, our race was blessed with that ability. There is a story to go with it, but I won't go into that right now. Did you know that some of us really have a strong "sixth sense"? Like, some of us can sense danger that's looming over the horizon. I, myself can't, but the village elder can. Sorry, I'm getting a little ahead of myself right now.
Anyway, the weird person looked at me—or at least I think he was looking at me. I really can't tell what he was doing behind that mask—and said something to his companion. At first, I really couldn't see who his companion was. Well, I couldn't see where he was either. But then, my little sister giggled and pointed at something sort of low to the ground. So I followed her hand…and I saw that weird person's companion.
He looked no older than my sister, around six or seven. He had pale skin and purple hair. He had small eyes and a strange expression on his face. It looked like…It looked like he was drinking up our world, as if he wanted to take it all for himself. But I dismissed that notion as soon as it came into my head. After all, he is only a child. How could he ever take over our world? The thought is preposterous and, therefore, it should not be occupied in my mind.
But, you know, I was wrong.
They came back a week later. In a flash, the royal family was decimated. And then…That strange, young boy was floating in the air in a strange sort of chair. He smiled at us, laughing gleefully. A woman appeared next to him. She was beautiful, but looked deadly at the same time. Her purplish dress resembled a flower ready to bloom as well as her greenish hair. Holding an umbrella in her hand, she floated down toward us, smiling. She cooed at my little sister. My little sister smiled back and then she was dead. Alive one second, dead the next. She was still smiling. She didn't have enough time to realize what was going on.
A loud scream filled the air at that moment, its cry was pure anguish. It took me a moment to realize that it was from me. My mother…she wasn't crying. Because she was dead too. I fell to the ground, sobbing. And I looked up to see that woman laughing as she controlled her plants. The plant-lady. That was the last thing I saw before I passed out: a laughing face.
When I did wake up again, most of my people were dead. That, and we weren't in our world anymore. Well, we were, sort of. I woke up to see a piece of our world, tucked away in another. The other survivors and I just continued living. In homes that weren't quite ours, in our world that wasn't. We became introverted. I never spoke to anyone. Our world of happiness and laughter suddenly turned into one of silence and death.
I am older now, and more mature. Or am I? I fear those who call themselves the Deathlords and I certainly fear the Count. I stay in my house, in my room, away from danger. I observe it, I don't participate in it. I watched a man fight that woman that I hate so much. I watched two children walk around our small world without fear to find their parents. I watched the feared swordsman destroy a part of our world. And I still do nothing. He hates me for it. But he is young, and doesn't realize the pain we lived through. But still he fights. As should I. My hatred of that lady hasn't diminished in these long years. She killed my mother who has tried to raise us the best she could without a husband. She killed my sister who would never live past her sixth birthday. She ruined my life. I hate her.
So why aren't I doing anything?
AN: Part one of a hopefully long series. Can you guess who's journal entry this is? Oh, and I don't own FF:U.