Author’s note: I’m still working on the story, so any suggestions provided now will be taken into consideration. Suggestions towards plot, or characters will be appreciated ^^. It’s still untitled, if anyone could come up with a suitable title, it would be great, and i would gladly give you credit and a *cookie*. Anyways, enjoy!

“Quickly, drop it here. We must rid ourselves of the filth that the woman has brought to our town. Let the forest decide its fate.”

“Let us just burn it now, and prevent the risk of it escaping! A burnt demon can do us no harm.”

A high pitched scream echoed throughout the forest, as the mother of the child, still fatigued from the labor of giving birth to new life, cried for her child’s welfare.

“Demon or not, this child deserves the right to live! Who knows, this very demon may save our lives one day.”

The people of the small village were huddled near a small bundle carried by the chief of the village. The bundle contained a newborn child, a mix between human and demon. The baby was incredibly calm, despite the events occurring around him and the potential harm that was threatening to occur. He stared at the elder with his blood-red eyes, unnerving the already- frightened man.

“Those eyes are unnatural; they already show of the evil inside of him,” said a bearded man, perspiration dripping from his forehead. “We must dispose of him. Would you rather be rid of this filth,” said the man, spitting between the words, “or give him the chance to destroy us all?”

“He is right, for our families and our own welfare, we must eliminate this child,” the village elder said. “Yet, a slight chance for this beast to live is the only mercy that we can give him. Throw him down the waterfall, and let us be done with this.”

“B-but what if it survives? What will we do when it seeks us out, thirsting for our blood, seeking revenge on us for our treatment? What will you do then, elder? Are you willing to take responsibility for his actions, and pay with your life if need be?”

The cries of the mother stopped for a slight moment, as she prayed for her child. She knew that the elder was a kind and gentle man, who loved every being in the forest as much as he loved his own children. She hoped that her child would become a simple farm boy and live a happy, peaceful life with who he would come to love.

“I will take full responsibility of its actions, if need be. Now, before we rid ourselves of the child, give the mother one last chance to speak and pray for her child. It is not an easy task for her to part with her newborn, and despite the harm she did to our village by bringing her beloved in, we would not want to lose such a talented weaver.”

The villagers mumbled their agreement, and slowly, the bundle was passed towards the sobbing woman. She bent over her child, stroking his face, looking at the beautiful, and yet fearsome eyes that were a favorite trait of her beloved. Looking around, she slyly placed a sheathed dagger, engraved with beautiful symbols, under the child.

The dagger was a present from her loved one, the peaceful demon. It was a dagger, crafted by the best of elves, made so that it would never dull. The hilt was covered in a thin layer of gold, and intricate patterns of silver ran across the blade. On the blade of the dagger, in small golden runes, written in the ancient language of the elves, was the name “Bloodthirster.” The artifact was enchanted by the demon himself, and upon being condemned to death by flames, he presented it to her lover, the one that brought about his downfall, but his happiness as well.

The sheath was just as marvelous as the blade itself was. It was woven with dragonskin, a never-staining and strong material. The sheath shimmered in the light, giving the impression of many shades of colors. The green of trees, the blue of the ocean and sky, the deep purple of Strgym (a rare flower, used in legendary potions) were all part of the wonderful spectrum. Onto it, woven delicately, it was a pattern of leaves and branches, which strangely resembled a path. On the sheath, the words “For Selcion, my beloved son,” were engraved in delicate letters placed in a marvelous, flowing pattern.

During the bright of the day, the child was thrown down the waterfall by the elder, who prayed for the best. The mother cried and screamed, lashing out at all the men and women who attempted to comfort her. Despite her preparation for the event, she was driven into madness by the sight of her son; the last loved one she had, being slain.