We the Tenth

Shadows slice at the unwieldy in our world, slashing and taking aim at those who would find themselves worthy to make targets of themselves to benefactors and the just resolute. We, the Shadow's weapons, are tasked with joining clans of familial ties and made to exterminate. That's just it, this story of ours is of those who would strive against the idea of our families' and our clans' reigns. Each of us has our reasons to want to be away from our clansmen, be it our choice, theirs, or fates. Regardless of why—we are here, and we're going to pursue our own justice against this entire rule of the Nine Clans.

We the Tenth, choose our own path to follow.

I am a young boy, playing with tree branches fallen from the forest, close to the village edge. I laugh and smile at the sun and shade, careless to the world, uncaring or unknowing as it were to anything outside of play.

A swish of falling arrows has come to wake me from my dream.

Never before heard were the screams of my village, what is happening? Why is this happening? Who woke me up? And as quickly as I would smile at the shade, I quickly learned that the shade accepts no smiles. From the slight darkness that the treetops allowed, a troop of cloth covered demons fell, drawing shining death. As if to purposely blind me from witnessing the coming death of my parents, the sun shimmered off the tallest's blade and the intense pressure of the deathly intent knocked me to my feet.

I couldn't hear or see anything happening around me, only feel the kiss of the wetted grass, smell of blood and burning, and taste the deaths of my friends and family. I wouldn't for a long time forget that taste in my mouth, the sour hatred. Not long did my village last in a fight, I didn't know what to do other than lay in my fright, hoping they forgot about me. The Shade never forgets, and I'm reminded and remembered for last, with a blade through the right of my chest, gripping me and raising me above their heads, I open my eyes now to see the shrouded faces of the tormenters. I see nothing in them, not a hint of wince or regret on them, we were nothing to them.

Before my eyes close I look down to see my red dripping down his shining death, wanting to will it dye their faces, to mark them as the murderers they are, to have it pour into their bodies and drown them where they all stand. I can muster only a kick. I hit the blade as my blood flows down and it flutters, my wish granted, the man's face is marked, under his right eye is my destiny. I have made red the man who took my village, and I will make red the entire clan that worked with him, make red this entire system of clans that made this world possible that it could ever do anything to me.

Yes, I am selfish. Yes, I am hateful. We, the Tenth, are that way and will continue to be that way until our mission has ended. Our path isn't one that makes the most sense, we know, but it's our resolution that by destroying the Nine Clans, we will be the only clan left standing. and that is a world that we will gladly leave behind of our own will. Only the Tenth will kill the Tenth.

Make Red The World.