Nine years ago, in a secluded forest;
My father and I were practicing sword fighting while the sun shone high in the sky. Birds sang happily in the trees and the sound of a nearby river flowed gently. My mother was at home preparing my favorite meal.
After I was born, my father moved us to this forest for our safety. I knew our origins and identity, but it didn't matter as long as we were together and happy.
Despite our safety, my father continued to teach me sword fighting for protection. It was my favorite weapon among others. After training, we went home for dinner. My father smiled at me from across the table and praised my progress.
"You did very well today, Rose. You're improving every day," he said.
"Really?" I asked.
"Yes. In fact, I think you're ready for your first kill," he replied.
My mother approached us with concern. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" she asked.
