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Misfits forge the most remarkable paths - my mama had told me that. “Better to be on the outside looking in, than on the inside looking out, Everest.”
Mama said my hair was only second in its wild nature to my heart, neither tameable, both beasts of their own free will.
The call of battle had whispered my name since the moment I could hold a sword.
This small life of mine was forged under the weight of a brutal war, and I was born to be a cog in the machine that drove our nation toward greatness.
Those tales had always lit me up instead of making me cower. As if the streak of wildness that lived in her, lived in me too.
back at them, my tongue wouldn’t curl around the words. Everyone in this land told me to tone it down, stop being so odd, try to fit in, don’t stand out, keep your head down, play it small.
They call me the Sky Witch. Bloodborn Aquarius of the greatest nation of them all. My birth took place in the eye of a storm while battle raged around us and my mother’s screams were met with those of men dying in the fields of glory beyond. I am yearning. I am lust. I am the greatest desire of all who fall prey to my power, and I am lethal in more ways than can be counted. I am Fae. I am Air. I am master of blood and bone. My name holds no power because it is not what I am. My true name is War.
“Eské tamin, Koe morden mas ocil harbrin,” I gritted out in Cascalian. Fuck fate, I make my own tonight.
“You have a soul crafted by the hand of the ocean herself. You hold the strength of the tide in your blood, so you will not fade, you will fight.”
I felt like something other, an unwanted creature to be hidden in the bowels of the fortress, and despite how much I was used to living on the outskirts of society, I’d not considered how quickly my past would chase me into my future. Perhaps the stars had always meant for me to be solitary, perhaps I would be greater because of it one day.
The wind tore my pink hair back from my face and I smiled into it as we stepped from the balcony as one and fell into the void beneath the tower with clasped hands and matching raucous laughter rolling from our throats.
