Peace was a lie, it does not exist, it was a joke, a stupid light of hope. And what those peace create? War, murder, crimes, all in the name of 'peace'. And peace took everything from me, it took my home, it took my family and friends, and it took my eyesight.

People would do everything for money, everything for peace. even to as far as kill a race that did nothing wrong. A hidden race, only known to some. Hidden in a forest full of truth, and full of lies and blood.

A race of seekers, a race of the dark, and of the light. To be able to see the truth just be a look. And to create a lie, just by a word. To use the magic of all kinds, to create a spell without a word, but a thought. They were powerful and yet they were too weak to fight back. Maybe it was fate Maybe it was not.

But one thing was certain I wanted revenge. I wanted a bloodbath for what they had done to my race.

SIX YEARS AGO.

In a hidden forest, a forest of truth. A place where one could find peace, and what they were seeking. where a race, a small one, almost unknown and was seen as a myth. A race of seekers, a people of the dark and of the light. a truth and a lie. they could use all the kind of magic that existed. they knew the truth and never, never would they have thought that, because of one word, they where sluthered, brutal and without mercy.

To think one word was the cause, one stupid word. The word was simple but full of truth. a word to one person, a saint, someone who was pure, and full of light. A person who was supposed to stand in the light stood in the darkness. " A murder" yes that was the word murder, that was what the saint was. someone who kills, and not one but a thousand of people.

People that were standing in the light. people that did not deserve death. And nor did my race. It was the saint's fault, his mistake. Not mine. It was his fault, it was him that looked me in the eyes. A child, taught to see and tell the truth. If I had known then I would have said a lie.

I would not have been so naive, so stupid, to say the truth right in the saint's face. And just as I said the word, the world became black, and I had lost my sight, To the saint.

The person who took my sight left and all I could do was listen, listen to all the screams and cries. The scent of blood and ash.

Alive yet I felt like my soul had just been taken, and just as I sat on the ground, a person took my hand, and lifted me up and carried me into the deepest part of the forest.

The person took something and placed it on my hand, I felt it sting, as at it came in contact with my skin, I felt it slide up my left arm, and stop right over my shoulder. " such an evil thing to do" the person said, it was a woman guessed by the voice.

I felt her hand touch my cheek and as she said a spell, I could see again, I could not see colour it was all black but I could see things around me, and people.

  Who am I? I am the last seeker of truth left, and my name is Aira.