Myth

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gwaihir1

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(7/27/01 11:49:47 pm)

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She was young, and she was beautiful, but nobody would call her either. Her face was pale, her eyes large, her hair so dark a brown that you could hardly tell it from black, but her cheeks, shoulders, and arms were all marked by scars. Literally she was only 24, but no one could speak to her and think it. It had been five and a half years since she had started thinking of herself as old, and though she didn’t talk about it, one could feel it.

She was Myth. When you walk down an empty street, and wonder if you see a shadow at out of the very corner of your eye, but later you find you’ve lost your wallet, Myth’s been showing off. She didn’t usually, she didn’t have to, but sometimes it was fun.

She wasn’t really cold-blooded, she just didn’t care. So what if you were suffering over a spouse she’d had to kill, she felt sorry for you, but she knew that she’d gone through worse five and half years ago, so she continued to do what she felt necessary regardless of your pain.

She was Myth.

 

 

Myth grew up in probably the worst neighborhood in Terra, so fighting to survive was sort of a way of life. It wasn’t until she was sixteen though that this fight became formal. Myth wanted to be on of The Elite. What were they? Well, I guess Myth saw them as mainly a street gang, and they were, but it was a much larger organization than that. To say that would be almost as silly as to call the Mafia a street gang.

So, what did a chance in The Elite mean to Myth? It was a chance to every once in a while get enough food, it was the right to walk down the street instead of living your life huddled in the gutter, but most of all it was there was the possibility of someday getting out, of living in a place that Wasn’t poor and miserable.

One trained for two–three years, and then you were set a task. Rumor was that if you lived through it, you were in for life, but no one knew what their task would be. You might have to fight a member or a dangerous Terran beast, steal a treasure, kill some well guarded person, or … or anything.

Sometimes some minor member would be set teaching trainees, from him or from anywhere else you would learn spells-anything useful from Invisibility to Double Time. Also one spent hours improving one’s skills with arms, mainly knife but some sword too.

Myth was determined to succeed, and to somehow find the means to leave that ghetto, so she honed her skills until finally it was time for her to be set a task. Every hour of the day or night was a good time to find Myth and Salen (her brother and best friend) out practicing something.

Six fellows who ran things locally met to decide what her task would be. Myth hoped that hers wouldn’t be too bad because she’d been doing all kind of things to make Tom, one of the more important ones, feel that he owed her something.

She waited. It seemed to take forever, and not just because she was nervous, there were two members accused of treason to The Elite, who were to be tried before her task was contemplated. As she waited she fell to thinking:

For all her hatred of her life thus far, it really hadn’t been all that bad. So she hadn’t always gotten fed, so, who did? Hell! She’d had a mom until she was 12! After that her older brother Ryan and his buddy had let her tag around for awhile. She’d been on her own, but they’d not let her get beat up too bad. In fact, Ryan wasn’t just a better big brother than most, he the best. He’d always known where she could hide from the cops after she’d stolen something from a nice neighborhood, and he’d even killed the guy who raped her. Yeah, he sometimes gave bad advice and was a bit too impulsive/violent, but who’s perfect?

As much as she cared Ryan though, she loved Salen, (her other brother and her younger by one year) three times as much. Until almost a year ago the two of them had been inseperable. They’d done everything as a team. Myth smiled as she remembered the time Salen had gotten the job in the shoe store. He’d snuck hundreds and hundreds of dollars out before he finally got caught, and even then he’d gotten out in time. Or… the time when they’d jumped out the window of the general’s house (in a mad rush to get out)-straight into his fish pond. That too had worked out though, matter of fact, Salen Had had his screwups, but in general he’d always been precocious. *sigh* That’s why he’d gotten into The Elite ten months ahead of her. Since then he was too cool to hang out with her, now he hung out with Ryan. She’d hardly seen either of them since then. Didn’t have Any idea where Salen was. Word on the street was that Ryan was running from someone powerful.

She heard a noise inside the discussion room (an empty warehouse), and lapsed back into worrying about her trial. Finally the door opened, and Tom came out to bring her in. *I wonder where the accused are? Weren’t they in there? Why aren’t they coming out?* As he approached Tom whispered her an apology. *Uh-oh, must be Hard*

When she went in there were two live bodies on the floor, both tightly swathed in black cloth, and with their heads in pillow cases. *That’s where they went* First she was told she would practice her aim by throwing knives from 100 feet into various targets on the bodies. *If you don’t think about it, you can do it* The people were conscious, but gagged. Next she was ordered to demonstrate spells. They kept her at it until she was exhausted, but all the same she did pretty well. Finally one of guys told her that after one small thing she’d be done. *Here come the hard part*

“Kill them”

*Killing in cold blood Is horrible, but it isn’t hard. Why such an easy task?* Then someone ripped off the pillow cases.

The bodies were those of Ryan and Salen.

 

 

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