SYRENA SONG— district one [finished]

She was forged from fire and blood— a new steel blade in a sheath of worn swords. Calloused hands held her newborn body, a scratchy voice whispering, "You were bred to be a victor, to bask our family name in glory and riches. You will not fail us." Her parents fanciful ultimatums were carved into her bones, forced to be her reality.

Her body was brindled with purple and blue bruises ablaze with red stars. Her face was slammed onto the ground, she could taste the dirt and blood on her tongue. She raised a trembling hand to wipe the dried blood from her pale face and to move wispy brown hairs from her eyes. "Get up!" her father's dark eyes stare down at her, his unforgiving gaze sending pangs into her heart.

She tried to get up, arms stretched out trying to push herself off the ground. Pain shooting through her muscles making her arms give out, sending her back into the ground. "Despicable." her father's words with harsh, "Go to your room, no dinner tonight. If you do better tomorrow you might get to eat." He walked away, footsteps echoing as he stepped out of the room.

Syrena knew her parents were obsessed, obsessed with a vision they couldn't complete their selves.  They forced their dreams upon her, trying to mold her into a perfect daughter, a perfect victor. But she wasn't that, she didn't want to be that. She wanted a simple life, have a few kids and grow old. This wasn't exactly in her parent's vision, but this one, it was hers.

⊱ ━━━━   ━━━━ ⊰

She was a tenderhearted person, nowhere near who her parents wanted her to be. She was raised by cold eyes and fierce tongues, but she still offers a hand if anyone needs it. Her parents wanted to raise a killer, someone who had no hesitation to deliver a death blow.

Syrena liked warm hugs, she was the sun in a void of empty space. She liked silk dresses and glistening jewels. Her parents put a sword in her hand and expected her to swing. She didn't mind the training and the fighting, she rather enjoyed it, but it was the dream her parents forced to become her reality that she opposed. Syrena knew that she only got to live once and she didn't want to waste her life with a sword in hand.

⊱ ━━━━   ━━━━ ⊰

"Fight harder."

Her dad swung at her, his sword clashing against hers. He swept his foot out at her, kicking out her legs. Her head smacking against the ground. He put his sword at her throat, disappointment on his face.

"Dead. You need to fight harder. Get up, we go again."

She rose, getting back into her battle stance. She swung first, aiming for his knees. She heard the clang of steel as he blocked the blow. He striked her arm, blood pouring out of the gash. Syrena surged toward him, kicking at his legs making him stagger back. Her sword flailed at him, his balance starting to become wobbly. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, she slashed at his arms and he toppled back. With a thud, he was on the ground with her sword at his throat.

"Good. That's how you win a fight. You can eat dinner with us today."

It was always like this for her. She was never read lullabies or sang to sleep. She was told to be strong, to never cry or complain. She was to be the perfect weapon, nothing else. To a young girl who had big dream, it was a stone wall crushing her to the floor. She wanted to conquer galaxies and see the stars in her brown eyes.

"Dreams are stupid, you will be a victor and that's all you'll be."

She never wanted this life. She wasn't a warrior, she wasn't a victor. She was supposed to have a normal life, a family that loved her, kids that she got to see grow up. Syrena was forged from fire and blood, but she wasn't either.