I'm not sure where to begin, so I suppose I shall begin at the beginning. I was born of the Elves of Lothlorien, Perhaps within them, though that sounds just as strange. My father was a cruel man. Yes, a man. Though I never knew for sure, I assumed that he was allowed to visit and simply forgotten about by many there. Other events were happening within the Golden Wood that required their attention more. He was angry and spiteful. Cruel to my mother, my sister and most of all to me. He had always wanted a son, when I was born without the necessary parts, he dismissed me as a witch. Pain. Whenever he was around, that is what I felt. To this day I still have scars from the different ways he hurt me. Burning, cutting, bruising. All things that were not severe enough to endanger my life, so my mother never managed to overcome her fear of him to save me. My mother. So beautiful and strong. Yet cowardly. I never forgave her for refusing to stand up for us and protect us from the monster in her bed. The final straw was when he raised a hand to her. I ran at him with a piece of broken vase that had been knocked over during his rampage. The shard of glass entered into his thigh and he fell back in pain. His anger boiled over in a way I had never seen it before and I knew he was completely mad. My sister, Sera, grabbed me and nearly drug me along as she ran, trying to keep me from his fury. We ran and ran and ran through the bright trees. We reached the edge of the wood and hid, cowering in the nook of a tree as we heard his howls. We hid there so long that we fell asleep as night sunk into its later hours. With a flash of pain, I woke up to fire. Sera had tried to start a fire to warm her shivering sister, but he had found us quickly after the flames were lit. The grass caught flame for a moment as he kicked the branches, though quickly went out without spreading. My sister screaming. My father howling. My mother no where to be seen, dead or alive I did not know. I could see the piece of vase still stuck in his leg as I danced around the tree to escape his hands. With one swift kick to his thigh where the glass was, I took off running. My sister, too, began to run but not in the same direction. I ran for hours it seemed. Fleeing the woods, I just kept going until I collapsed, black consuming me. Seems a bit silly now, as I think back on it. When I woke, I saw that Sera was not with me. I never saw her again until late into my adulthood when she and my mother found me. I was convinced that she had abandoned me, and I never let myself forget that. In reality, it was a simple mistake that separated us to the point of no reunion. Not with my father still on the prowl. I regained consciousness and kept running, if you could call a weakened trot of a 15 year old half-breed running. I may have been 15 winters old, but to others I appeared to be much younger. I thank my Elf mother for that. I was quickly noticed and once again on the run, this time from a group of beings that I'm not sure what they were. To the child running, they were monsters. Everything was a monster.
Time becomes blurry and my memories fade after that. I took to the trees, for that is what I knew and simply kept going without looking back. I was never going to go back. I had nothing, so I worked for everything. Using stone tools and getting what I needed from the trees and the creatures there.
