《The Forgotten Universe》Chapter twenty: The origin of the origin. (It makes no sense, but bear with it.)
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“I was a young Drowen at the time. I had just graduated from the specialty fighter’s class at the swordcraft institute in Mezenoberanizen, top of my class, full marks. I probably would have been one of the highest ranked warriors regardless of species right then and there, now that I think about it. I also had everything going for me. I came from one of the last two pure-blooded Drowen families (I got lots of reputation points and the nobility treatment because of that). It was a very close-knit and loving family that I wish I had more time with. I had three of the highest ranked Drowen fighters mentoring me in various areas of fighting, while i was still in the academy; I had friends whom I could count on; and my path to the top was already three quarters complete. I had made allies - if you could even call them that - with some of the strongest Drow families, and could have easily rallied all of Mezenoberanizen, to action with just one word. I was living the life, which I had carved out with my own skill for the most part; gaining wisdom and experience in many things, yet I was still naive and carefree.
Yamada, I’m sure you’re familiar with the realm FA controversy. What the court document say are extremely biased. The only thing that I said that’s in there is me saying “...if only we didn’t have such pompous cousins, things would have been different! Why don’t all of you who spend their time sitting on a chair and twiddling your thumbs go and live our life, or just die! What do you know of what happened!” They used THAT of all things to declare me guilty of genocide ‘without a doubt’. Pompous prideful sacks of shit!
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But that’s not true, what they said in the court documents. Ironic isn’t it, they say that they will judge blindly, that everyone is equal in the eyes of justice. They judged blindly alright. Blind of the defences side of the case, and with prejudice as all the evidence that they had. I was the only one spared in the attack, but I knew the assailant at one point. To this day, I can’t remember whose voice that spoke to me. But I’m getting ahead of myself now.
I was receiving a few signals that something was about to happen the day before the attack. I had learned to listen to my gut instincts by then, so I took action immediately. It wouldn’t have made a difference. Within seventy minutes, all of the Drowen under me were dead. The worst was my elite unit. They were all killed by the same weapon, but each was more gruesome than the one before him or her. They were my closest friends, and it is in their memory that I continue on this path more than anything else. I still search for the true perpetrator of that tragedy. All I have to go off of is their weapons - twin recurving scimitars - and their eyes - redder than a poppy in full bloom, and deeper than the crimson hues of blood.
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