She had been born a rogue, but not just any rogue. She had been born a captive rogue. It was a strange thought to her that’s he could be so free and yet so entangled in another’s web. Being a rogue after all pretty much meant you could roam anywhere, everywhere, nowhere. It didn’t actually matter where you went, all that mattered was that you were free and you could go. Cynder had never been free. From the time she was old enough to see and stand her mother had held on to her like a possession, a limpet clinging to its host, unable to be removed. She often wished that she could hate her mother. Despite the fact that the female had been a demanding despot, determined to turn her only child in to a warrior, a killer, a murderer, she had looked after her.
Despite being a rogue she had never gone hungry. She had never wanted for anything. Her mother had kept her in a lap of luxury, if she ever wanted for anything it was really just affection. Her mother didn’t love her, all she saw was a creature whom could strengthen her cause. Her mother’s cause never really appealed to her. She was determined to unseat another from her throne, to take over the pride she felt should belong to her. So Cynder was a means to an end.
As she got older her mother became more and more un-hindged, pushing her harder, faster, keeping her going for hours beyond her capabilities. She often found herself so exhausted that she couldn’t move, every inch of her body ached all the way to the tips of every single hair. She was expected to get up the next day though and continue the training. Her mother’s demands eventually started to wear upon her and as she became an adult she started to have her own ideas about the world.
This was mostly caused by a male lion. She had been off alone, for once, and she had met a lion who claimed he was from a warrior pride. He spoke of the place where the sun barely ever shone and lions were powerful beasts built with muscle and sinew. He was something called a reaver. He was outside the prides walls, roaming where he liked, claiming whatever he wanted. His words resonated with the young lioness but she knew deep down her mother would never let her go. Still she spent a few days with the big lion following him, possibly, she realised much later, like a love struck puppy.
She realised at sunrise on the third day that she had been away from her mother too long. The lion had looked forlorn, before his mouth rose in a smirk and he attacked. He had been trying to take her back to his pride as a slave. He was so angry at her for daring to defy him, for daring to return to her mother instead of coming with him. Unfortunately for him, she had been trained. She had learned how to fight and how to kill and for the first time in her young life she was happy she had been pushed to the limit by her controlling mother.
When the battle was over she was bruised and battered by the reaver was dead. She had ripped his throat out and left him bleeding. She had admired his fur, she even considered taking it to wear but decided it was too heavy. Turning on her heel she had headed back to her mother. Her three day journey became five, then seven, then ten. She never returned home. The male she had killed he had spoken of the pride of warriors and it had been niggling at the back of her brain. She wanted to be one of them, to do that, she couldn’t go back to her mother. It would be impossible for her to go to the pride if she returned to her old ways. She would have to go alone, it meant she would never go back to her mother.
She never regretted the decision. Her mother had been descending slowly in to madness and she didn’t want to be involved in that. She had escaped, accidentally; in to the world and now she wanted to be a part of something bigger, somewhere she could use her skills borne of desperation and ambition.
Unfortunately her journey really didn’t go that well. She had no idea where the warrior pride was and she wandered alone for a long time. This wasn’t a bad thing. She learned how to survive without the female who had trained her, it was a lonely life though and while she wandered she had a lot of time to think about her past. She decided she would never speak of it to anyone. It was her business, no one else’s, if anyone ever asked she was a rogue, she had met a lion who told her of the pride and she had determined to come and join.
Eventually she found someone who knew the way. She had been warned about the pride by the passing jackal, warned not to go, told her she would probably die. She had replied at the time that perhaps that was what she wanted. Of course, that wasn’t the truth she wanted to become a great warrior. She wanted to be a reaver like the male she had killed. She wanted to be a warrior that made a difference in the world, for a pride, not just for the delirious visions of her mother that probably never would have come to pass. She of course knew her mother had expected her to die on her quest to dethrone the female she had a grudge against. Her entry in to the stormborn would see her use her powers for something else, something other than just dying for the sake of a fool’s errand, for the sake of revenge.
She would join the stormborn and one day she would be a reaver, she would be a powerful warrior amongst powerful warriors, the thought gave her a thrill, there would be no greater joy, she just had to find the place and get in first…