foxfire

Eliness Foxfire

The earliest thing I can remember are the tears. The tears mixed with blood. My hands were soaked in it. Everywhere was red. It flowed in rivers from my murdered family. I was alone there was no one left to tell me it was going to be alright. I knew that it wouldn't be.

But I lived. I lived with the suffering. The knowledge that there was no one in the world left for me. No one cared about the strange little girl who sat on the edge of the swamps.

I grew into a woman, full of hatred and resentment. I survived by foxfire. Foxfire is what I called the gift that the creator gave to me. It is the tiny green flame that ignites in the palm of my hand when I am angry. With it I was able to kill small animals to eat, start fires to keep me warm, and defend myself against enemies.ears mixed with blood. My hands were soaked in it. Everywhere was red. It flowed like rivers, from the bodies of my family. I was alone. There was no one there that could tell me everything is going to be alright. I knew that it wouldn't be.

But I lived. I lived with the suffering. The knowledge that there was no one in the world that I could count on. No one in the world who cared about the strange little dark haired girl that sat on the edges of the swamps.

I grew into a woman. Full of hatred and resentment. I survived by foxfire. Foxfire, the flame that is created when I feel angry. The tiny green spark that ignites in the palm of my hand. With it I was able to kill small animals to eat, light fires to keep me warm, and defend myself against enimies. And this is how it has been until now.

Not months ago, a man traveling through the swamps was being followed by a group that wanted to see him out of the way. They would have killed him. However, for some reason, I felt pitty for the man, and eliminated his foes.

As it turned out, this man was very wealthy and paid me handsomely for this service that I did for him. Along with paying me he told me of a profession that he thought that I would be interested in. He explained that the neighboring lands were in need of a good bounty hunter. It seemed interesting to me and I knew that I had spent too many years mourning in this swamp. And so without another thought I was off to make my fortune.

The past few years I have been caught up in what I now refer to as my "calling". I kill whomever I am paid to and I am good at it. I am reluctant to return to my home land of Mullen Airies, for fear of the memories. Someday though.....someday justice will be surved. Someday.......they too will die.