My Story Is...

“Alle Anfänge sind hart, und nicht alle Enden sind es wert. Du wirst groß”
I still remember the words my Mother told me when i was back home.

We all lived on a farm together, with many other families, along the river Kocher. It wasn’t a nice place, cramped, cold, insects biting at you, people bossing you around. But it was how we lived. How i had to lived, for 9, god forsaken years of my life, but i didn’t know any better. I thought that boring, monotonous farm work was all there was to, well. Anything.
Then came the first major disaster, in a chain of many many more to come:

We were pillaged. Burned, Robbed, slaughtered like the animals we tended to. And yet, for whatever reason, they chose to spare 9 year old me. Damning me to wander the world alone, afraid, and helpless, with not a penny to my miserable name.
Starving, Dehydrated, i eventually gave up, still alone, and still afraid.
And just when i thought it was all about to be over, when it would fade to black, when the curtain would be pulled on my performance- it was decided that there were other plans for me, there was a bright light, that would grow, and grow, and grow. Dragging me in, whether i wanted to or not.
Heaven? That was my first thought at this event, so i didnt scream, i didnt cry, thrash or beg to be spared. I accepted it, and waited. Hiding my terror. It’s not like i could react in the state i was in anyway, not in any meaningful manner…
And in addition to my wounds and scars remained from my home being destroyed, heaven was different than i had expected. It was just…woodland, in all directions, warm, with bugs buzzing around the trees, small animals darting about, and of course. Trees.
I was shocked…
Hours of aimless wandering, and i came across a faint trail, battered into the dirt, with no other choice, i dragged my frail, young body down it, until i came across it, a lone building standing in the woods. The Red sun inn.
Shortly after arriving, i asked where i was, only to get the response “Hell, If i know.”
It was hell, not heaven. What had i done wrong? What did i do to deserve this? To make things worse, nobody there could understand me.
And that, i suppose, is where my adventure on this hell began. Almost a year ago now…
And now I’m barely alive.

But from the ashes, rises the phoenix. Or in this case, from the peasant, rises the Empress. (Unfinished, needs updating)