Sora Valdis

[Sora]

"But you cannot turn down the Sultan! Are you crazy, Sora?" a beautiful red headed female named Angelina whispered to her friend.
"I can't go to his bed either. I am not one of these harem girls. I had a life somewhere. I'm going to escape." Sora whispered back, then both girls fell silent as they brushed their long hair, gaze darting to the Eunichs that occasionally moved through the bath houses.

Sora was unusual to begin with, her lineage not really understood. Afterall, how did a mere human get away with living for ..on last count..two hundred years?

She didn't remember much of her young life, though the pirate's raid and the harem were rather clear. Everyday Sora woke she would try hard to remember what her mother and father looked like..though now, it was too blurred in her mind. Even worse...she had long forgotten their names.

When she was eight years old, her parents had decided on taking her for a trip about the world, wanting to create such a culture for their only girl.. their miracle child. Sora was bright and vivacious, so full of vigor and life; she was full of curiosity and a need to learn. What better way to teach her?

The pirates had somehow managed to sneak up on them, and before anyone knew what was happening, they were aboard the ship. Sora's mother had hidden the girl in a chest, whispering that it would be alright, and she and daddy loved her very much. That was the last time Sora would ever see her mother.

The pirates were thorough, killing most everyone, and taking others for slaves upon their own ships or whores for their men. Sora was eventually found, bound with the others, scared and crying.

The leers, the crude comments, just furthered to strike more fear into Sora, leaving her cowering away from her captors. What happened after that was a blur for her. Somehow a representative from the small desert kingdom crossed paths with the pirates, and after some negotiations, two of the male captives and Sora herself was sold into the hands of the Sultan's man.

That's how she had found herself in the harem. The good thing was, unlike a lot of other Sultans that just didn't care, the current Sultan had no taste for children. So Sora was freed from the responsibility of being called to his bed. During the next years, Sora was taught the way of the concubines, told what to expect, shown what to do. While most were more than happy to be under the Sultan's thumb, Sora was not.

It was an extremely lazy life for the women about. To be able to wander about the concubine's apartments, doing as they wanted until called. Sora...found herself dwelling the older she got. Her chaste state would end on her sixteenth birthday. Sora didn't want to be a slave for the rest of her life. Her parents were somebodies..which made her a somebody.

She had to get out.

She had to escape.

The day of her sixteenth birthday, the mulatto guard came into the chambers, calling out for Sora. The women glanced about themselves, and jumped when the guard bellowed again.

But Sora...was gone.

[Sora]

Over the first couple of years, the Sultan proved to be quite a determined man. Sora was constantly on the move, never staying in a place more than a day or two. Every so often, the mulatto guard would show up, and she would be forced to run.

She learned to remain aloof and for the most part invisible. Very rarely did she speak to anyone, unless it was to offer some sort of chores to be done in exchange for food and lodging. She taught herself to wake at a moment's notice, learned to erase any emotions from her features. No one need know she was nothing more than a ragamuffin. Afterall, if anyone found out the truth, she would probably find herself back into the clutches of the Sultan, and that she couldn't have.

Once a carefree happy child, she had completely become the opposite. She worked hard for her keep, turning those once soft 'princess' like hands into rough and calloused ones. She dressed like someone at the bottom of the food chain, despite the slowly growing wealth she was accumulating from al her hard work. And she stayed away from those who would try and buy her body, or use her to sell her body. That was something she refused to do, no matter how hungry and cold she became. That, and murder.

You are going to grow into a lovely woman one day, Sora. Never let anyone use or hurt you.

Words of her mother occasionally filled her mind, but she quickly pushed them back for it caused such a deep pain in her heart. She missed her beautiful mother. She missed her father. Even years later when the Sultan had forgotten her, she continued to be on the constant move, if only to try and find her family...whatever was left of them.

One day, about fifty years after her escape, she was camping outside of a small village. She had seemed to age only a tad bit, looking now about twenty one or so. She didn't understand it, she wasn't sure exactly what was in her blood that caused her to remain so young and not age. She had tried testing things, such as shifting or magic, but neither seemed to be part of her being.

A man came wandering by the campfire, and Sora did her best to ignore him, as she always did others. This man didn't seem to want to be ignored. He began to try and ply his dominance, demanding her attention, and then trying to demand her body.

Sora was having none of it, and naturally struggled with the man. Just when he nearly took her, she managed to twist about, grabbing the edge of a burning log, and sent it slamming against his head, shocking the guy into a stand still. She slammed it again against him, her head turning as ash and burning pieces began to fall on her face and hair. It was enough to send him off of her. She twisted, dropping the log and scrambling for her pack, yanking free a small butterfly type knife which she flipped open.

The man snarled, half his face smoking from the fire, burned and bleeding from a crack on his temple. He lunged at her, and Sora gave a snarl, lifting the knife mainly to ward him off. The man misjudged, and Sora's inexperience saw that knife buried right into his throat. Shocked and afraid, she let the knife go, the man gurgling as blood seeped past his lips. Sora moved back, and the man dropped dead at her feet.

Her first kill was not all glory. She had vowed never to kill, even in defense. She didn't know where that high standard for herself came from, but now...it was a moot point. She was a killer. Regardless of the circumstances, that's what she was in her own eyes.

For a long time she sat next to the body, contemplating upon this, and finally she pulled the knife free and began to clean and pack up her camp. She left that very night, and afterwards began to pay more attention to the weapons out there.

She never bought any, and never again did she allow herself into a situation where murder would happen. She wasn't a fighter, she was nothing more than a survivor.

Until she entered into China, where it seemed the styles of fighting were well known. For a woman to be trained was unusual, but it wouldn't stop a certain old man Yurshin from seeing her potential and taking her under his wing.