Chapter Text
I am but a weapon of war. Or at least, that's what they liked to remind me of. I could never be anything but that. All they wanted was their 'battle weapon' so they could never loose a fight. Pathetic honestly, in the grand scheme of it all.
To their credit though, I did a damn good job at being a war weapon. Whether it was the specially, lab-made genetics I was born with, or the training I was taught every day the second I had a consciousness, I don't know. All I know is that I could hold a dagger before I could walk and I was leading my first army into battle when I turned 17. If their were gods out there they would've probably pitied me. An elven girl born to fight and not live. It makes me sad looking back at my childhood, how I was a literal child in my first 'real' battle, both for elves and humans.
My past wasn't one I liked to dwell on for too long. Sure, it was a part of who I was, but...it was pathetic. Pathetic and unbelievable that it took me so. Long. To realize how corrupt they all were. Like, sure, drow elves are 'stereotyped' to be 'evil' but they always seemed to have good intentions back then. 332 years on this planet and it took me 254 to realize I was making a mistake. Even now I can't tell where the line is drawn, between my own self realizing that and Ara telling me.
Ara. Her name still hurts to think about. Would she have wanted me to move on from her death? Or would she have wanted a poetic tragedy in which her lover is abandoned and mourns her for eternity? It sure seems like her style. Maybe it would've been wish to have a conversation about it before the last war we were both in. Maybe she would want me to be happy with another person in this life. No, she knows me too well to think I'd ever want anyone else. My first and last love. And we had the unfortunate reality of being born to those monsters, and just used to fight. She always had it better than me though, she wasn't made to be a war general, and she wasn't born with mutated genes in her body. I could take the pain of us both for multiple lifetimes, but even a fraction of what I've gone through would just break her. She was spared in that sense.
Maybe if I had never met her she'd still be alive. I mean, when we met she was so...happy, and full of energy, and even though we were in an army the moment of birth, she was so positive. Becoming my friend just...hurt her more. She didn't deserve that. If she hadn't met me, then she wouldn't have trained so hard, and pushed every limit she had just so she could be 'good enough' to be a warrior under me. And for what?! So she could 'hang out' with me for that much longer? They never noticed her reasons for trying so hard, they just saw another battle weapon that could be put with the better ones. Makes me disgusted to know my army were for the best of the best fighters. Makes me sick to think I had to be the very best to even be 'leading' them.
Gods, this wasn't what I wanted to dwell over. All I wanted was to get away from that life, not think about dead...lovers, or abandoned armies. That was why I was never in once place for very long. Maybe a month at most per town or kingdom. People were nice, but not nice enough to want to know about me. I mean, it's not everyday you see an elf out and about, let alone a drow elf. Most people saw drow elves as dangerous, so I got left alone. And, my kingdom I had grown up in, Talinvah, wasn't really...popular. Popular enough to get on a map, but feared enough to never get visitors. But just based on my looks people didn't know where I was from, but people tended to see me and knew better than to strike up a conversation.
Sometimes being alone all the time got lonely, even I'll admit that. It's not like I'd ever go back to where people knew me though. I still can't even go outside if I've seen a dark colored bird recently. Maybe the PTSD is finally getting to me. I'm the only person I knew that could live through the horrors I've seen and not be affected until years after the fact. Ironic. And even if that was normal for the people I lead into battle, no one talked about it. We were close enough to tell people tips about what horses were fastest, where to get the best weapons and armor, but never talk about our mental issues. Gods, The Elders would torture us all if word got out we weren't mentally ok.
Why was I thinking about this again? Right...the constant feeling of loneliness. I'd never willingly seek people out though, not to live with. I don't need friends or companions. I had myself and nature. That was more than enough when I saw her in everything. Flowers, the moon, the wind. Ara was everywhere around me. So even if she physically wasn't here...well I had her around me in spirit enough to not make me go crazy.
And I sure as hell didn't need people around me to know that. I didn't need pity. I had survived this long on my own! 78 fucking years on my own! That could be a whole human's life span! I didn't need people seeing that number and feeling sorry for me. It wasn't a sign of sadness! That was a testament of strength.
And the gods know I'm strong enough to keep doing it