Faceless
Running In The Shadows
Ever since that night when I saw Marina murdered I have been on my own. I knew I had to be alone. I didn’t deserve a companion, I would only betray them should the time come when they needed to be saved.
I focused all my energy into controlling my transformations, slowly becoming more skillful and powerful. Someone or something must have been watching over me because I managed to avoid any serious suspicion from the people of each town I passed through. I wonder who would want to protect me after what I did but I have no other explanation for my good fortune.
For seven years I managed to evade hunters but then as I reached my nineteenth birthday a brutal bounty hunter began tracking me. He is persistent; he has been after me for an entire year now. Once again, I wonder what force out there managed to protect me for this long only to give up on me now.
And even though I know my end is near and I am terrified, I feel as if I should have been discovered long ago. I should have been killed alongside Marina.
The wind is growing louder now and the waves are crashing brutally against the rock. I fear I won’t be able to hear my attackers as they descend upon me. But perhaps it is better that way. The dread that fills me must be worse than what is actually to come. At least, I pray it is.
I have been such a coward for so long…. I am sitting here, scribbling away inside this little book and realizing that I do not want my story to be remembered. Earlier I said I wanted something that reflected my true self to leave in this world. But that is a lie. I don’t think I will ever understand my true self any better than those deceitful mirrors I’ve gazed into; mirrors that show me a different face each time I look upon them.
In attempting to write this account of my life I see just how worthless it really is. I shouldn’t be remembered. History is written by the watchful and silent eye that sees the works of great and terrible men and women. I am neither that eye nor the powerful person that deserves a name in history.
I am a shadow, a form without a true face. I am, and will always be, in the shadows.
I focused all my energy into controlling my transformations, slowly becoming more skillful and powerful. Someone or something must have been watching over me because I managed to avoid any serious suspicion from the people of each town I passed through. I wonder who would want to protect me after what I did but I have no other explanation for my good fortune.
For seven years I managed to evade hunters but then as I reached my nineteenth birthday a brutal bounty hunter began tracking me. He is persistent; he has been after me for an entire year now. Once again, I wonder what force out there managed to protect me for this long only to give up on me now.
And even though I know my end is near and I am terrified, I feel as if I should have been discovered long ago. I should have been killed alongside Marina.
The wind is growing louder now and the waves are crashing brutally against the rock. I fear I won’t be able to hear my attackers as they descend upon me. But perhaps it is better that way. The dread that fills me must be worse than what is actually to come. At least, I pray it is.
I have been such a coward for so long…. I am sitting here, scribbling away inside this little book and realizing that I do not want my story to be remembered. Earlier I said I wanted something that reflected my true self to leave in this world. But that is a lie. I don’t think I will ever understand my true self any better than those deceitful mirrors I’ve gazed into; mirrors that show me a different face each time I look upon them.
In attempting to write this account of my life I see just how worthless it really is. I shouldn’t be remembered. History is written by the watchful and silent eye that sees the works of great and terrible men and women. I am neither that eye nor the powerful person that deserves a name in history.
I am a shadow, a form without a true face. I am, and will always be, in the shadows.