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Wolfs Journal
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Many years ago there was once a small kingdom ruled by a fair King, the land rich in milk and honey and the people who lived there were happy. In this land however lived one village whose people were known as the world’s best assassin’s, hidden by all but the King and his close followers. For many years the King’s land remained in peace due to the Assassins who called themselves the ‘Zilla Videl’, the Shadow Devil. The Zilla Videl were so well hidden that not even the King knew where their village laid, if he should need their help in a matter a falcon was sent. One day however the falcon did not return…

The King feared the worst and he was right in doing so for not even a few months later war broke out among the kingdom, the King believing that the Zilla Videl had betrayed him. The King took up his sword and rode out to face the threat, leaving his kingdom behind in the hands of his brother. The King made the brother swear before his leaving, if he should not return he would ready his eldest son for the throne. The brother agreed, and the King left in strong faith he was living his entire world in good hands.

It was months after having done so that the King and his men rode across a village that had been destroyed by the enemy army’s. It was a grand and horrifying sight to behold as the number of dead soldiers from the enemy’s army was far greater than the number of villagers. The King called his army to a halt and ordered them to bury the dead villagers, hailing the village that had fought so hard and brought down so many on their own. It was during this time that the King made two shocking discovery’s.

While his men buried the dead the King entered the largest house in the village, wondering if perhaps he could find something of use for his own army’s. On entering a large study the King was shocked to find the falcon he had sent out months before hand with his last message still attached to its leg. Realizing that they had come across the remains of the Zilla Videl the King was saddened but now understood that he had not been betrayed. As he turned to return to his army the King was shocked to find a small child standing not even three feet away from him, holding onto the severed arm of his dead mother. The King’s eyes softened as he began coaxing the child slowly to him but the child turned and fled.

This did not stop the King as each day his army recovered at the village the King would return to the house, bringing food and water as he tried to gain the young child’s favor. The child never spoke a word and never entered within arm’s length of the King, cowering like a frightened mouse until that King gave him that name, Mouse. After a week the King asked the child if he would tell him what happened to the village, the question causing Mouse to break down at last, crying and screaming for his parents. The King gathered the child into his arms, comforting him and taking him back to his camp. The King knew that an army was no place for the child so he gave a young solider the task to return back to his kingdom with the child, believing that his own son would help to repair the damage by becoming his friend.

The King led his army forward and the young soldier carried out his task by bringing Mouse to the kingdom. The brother who had been left in the King’s place did not see the King’s idea as safe, fearing that the child who had the blood of the Zilla Videl flowing through him might hurt the young prince. The brother sent the child to the lower levels of the castle to become a lowly servant, keeping him there for a years to come. Though the servants who already worked there were happy to accept the child they soon found him to be strange and odd, their unease only growing when they found the easy in which the child worked a blade of any kind. Not long after the child came to them they began hearing noises in the walls as well, many believing the child having brought an evil spirit with him. They thought and whispered but never did anything, the child soon falling into the background.

Thirteen Years Later

Mouse stared at the world beyond the window he was washing, watching some children play in the freshly fallen snow for a while before he caught sight of himself in the mirror. Pale blue eyes stared back at him, the kind of eyes that didn’t hold much hope in the world and who hadn’t seen much kindness in it. There was an air of sorrow around him as he raised one fragile looking hand up to his grayish hair, trying to flatten it slightly before giving up. He wore a shirt that was slightly too large for him causing it to hang off one shoulder, Mouse lowering his hand to try and cover more of the pale skin that showed. The pants he wore were the same dirty gray coloring that were a little small on him, several inched of his ankles showing while the simple shoes he wore pinched his feet but when one was poor they took what they could get and were thankful for it. Finishing the window Mouse bent down to pick up the bucket of water, his braid falling over his shoulder as he moved into the grand ballroom to begin washing the windows there as well.

Wolfs Howl526
Community Member
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