A joker, a kidder,
insane, psychotic,
yes those are some names
that I have been called.
Twisted, annyoing,
disturbing, bizarre,
perhaps the whole story
you wish to know?

I was not always the one
screaming out like a freak
I was not always the one
laughing when noone else was
I was not always the one
tormenting others each moment
I was quiet back then,
and I could handle myself.

I know I was sarcastic,
I know I liked to joke,
but I had restraint
and I could keep it quiet.
Then someone came in,
and turned my life upside down,
someone came in
and said I didn't belong.

My fiancee had left me,
my house didn't want me,
my friends wouldn't greet me,
my mother wouldn't hug me.
Whatever peace I had,
whatever kept me calm,
all the pain, all the trauma,
came up to the surface.

First came the rage,
and the resentement soon followed,
then came the laughter,
but it wouldn't stop.
Then came the betrayel,
and I lashed out at my comrades,
then came the exile,
I left Ashtan for good.

Perhaps it all started,
when a young girl I was,
the story changes each time,
for my memory keeps erasing.
Left alone in the world,
after my parents rebirth,
I was sent to a village,
with one member of each race.

I stumbled upon it,
not supposed to be there,
as a human was present,
and there was no place for me.
The village elder,
his name I cannot recall,
took me in,
raised me as his own.

I did not partake
in the girly things most girls do,
I joined the hunt,
and took thrill in the gather.
One day I returned,
not a member left alive,
that is when I found
the truth of the village.

A scientist whose name
escapes my mind now,
planned to cross breed races
and control the young.
I was not supposed to be,
so he sent his men,
to send me a message,
I would never forget.

In anger I tracked down,
the man of the hunt,
and with a swift combo,
ended his life.
I ended up at a monestary,
of a sect I can't recall,
and they trained me until
I was ready to go on.

Perhaps the trauma of old
came back with the trauma of new,
perhaps I am someone
who fears life in all forms.
Perhaps I am someone,
who can't see past the darkness,
but I don't need to,
for I have my own light.


Penned by my hand on the 14th of Scarlatan, in the year 605 AF.