Aaghnya

Aaghnya was born near the border of Bangladesh and India, to a father and a mother. What they were doing there was unknown, but it was clear whatever it was, it was not legal in the slightest. The man would always be absent from the house, and when he came back, strangers would show up at their house. Meanwhile, the woman would seem washed away from her own tears, her voice barely as soft as a whisper. Perhaps this couple had a history, but it is long gone now, dirtied by salt and blood. Now, they were just getting by, raising the girl with a machine-like attention, rather than a human being.

Of course, none of this technically mattered, in the scheme of things. After all, when the little girl was three years old, a fire broke out in the place. How it happened was unknown, why the little family was even there was a big question. But, through all of it, little Aaghnya managed to survive it all, with a cost. Half of her face had been seared off, lost to the fire that had taken away everything she ever knew.

Aaghnya doesn’t remember much about this past life, but she remembers bits and pieces. Fleeting memories of her father meeting up with scary men with guns and shrouded faces as she clinged onto a corner of the wall. A worn mother looking over her as tears stained her face. But, the fire she remembers all too vividly.

Because she had no family to speak of, Aaghnya was taken to an orphanage, in hopes that maybe she could find a little light in her life. Perhaps the little girl could have a chance for a new life, a chance to have a real family. She couldn’t help but dream of the day when she’d be able to run into the arms of a family who actually cared for her.

Unfortunately, this place was anything but hopeful. Due to the fact that the area was on the border, it was often overlooked by both governments, leaving it prone to disrepair and disarray. And the people of the orphanage? Well, they were not very hospitable, despite their professions. While some seemed to genuinely care, simply burdened by the lack of options for them, some just did not care about the little kids there. They neglected them, only taking care of them so they could be adopted, and be someone else’s problem.

But, with Aaghnya, because of her large burns, she was never adopted. She was too ‘damaged’, too ‘scarred’ for most of the potential parents that came by. Aaghnya had to grow up, watching others her age come into loving families while she had to live life in the orphanage, waiting for a future that would never come for her.

Her scars did not help with getting friends either. She was always set apart from the rest, either out of fear or mockery. Her reserved streak did not help her chances, but with the other kids, she always found herself alone. As the opportunity for the future she wanted so badly fell apart, bit by bit, resentment grew within her, resentment towards others, resentment towards the orphanage, resentment to the world.

However, there was one thing that did give Aaghnya hope. And that was the Diwali celebrations that happened every year. They were funded by an outside organization, aimed at allowing kids to celebrate festivities and give them good memories. Lights, diyas, and fireworks were the center-piece of this holiday, as children roared with laughter. While Aaghnya struggled with this holiday at first, the flickers of flames reminding her all too much of the accident, she managed to take hold of it, using it to her will. With fatakas and sparklers she could manipulate this force of nature. Surely, if she could control the very thing that hurt her, she had some place in this world, right?

When Aaghnya turned 18, she was so excited to finally go out into the world, ready to start that future that she had always dreamed of.

But once again, fate had told her no.

A conflict broke out on the Bangladesh-India border, causing lockdown on all buildings nearby. Despite the fact that Aaghnya was so patient, despite the fact that she waited her turn, it didn’t matter. None of it did.

She was still stuck here.

This was the last straw for her. She was done having to just deal with what life seemed to give her. She was tired of just waiting for something to happen. It was at that moment that she realized that she couldn’t just wait for something to happen. She couldn’t just wait for change.

If she wanted a better future, she would have to pave it.

So, with firecrackers, the very thing that had given her a few slivers of hope throughout her childhood, she struck them, setting some of them aflame. Maybe it wouldn’t be a lot, but it would be enough of a distraction to buy some time. Time for her not so grand escape. While the adults were distracted, afraid of a potential attack, Aaghnya snuck out, before running into the unknown.

She remembers running, her bare feet beating against the dusty grounds, sand stirring up at her feet. The breath almost seemed to be sucked out of her as she ran, sand started to surround her. As she kept pushing faster and faster, she couldn’t help but look at the stars, trying to keep in mind what she was running for.

But then she tripped and fell, rushing headfirst into the ground.

And that was the last thing she remembered before waking up into Demonhead.

• Sparklers
• Barfi
• Tight Spaces

• Trilingual (Bangla, Hindi, English)
• First Aid Care
• Pyrotechnics

• Daal
• Dogs
• Sandals

Aaghnya was never a very friendly person. While she doesn’t say much, what she does say is blunt and to the point, often with a bite of anger. She shields herself with this defensive facade, from potential enemies and friends alike. No matter how nice someone is to Aaghnya, she will always hold a fist of distrust against them, expecting the worst. After all, how could she trust? She couldn’t rely on anyone. If things were going to get better for her, she would have to do it herself.

Right?

But, that is not all to Aaghnya. Her confidence within herself is well-placed, as she can be very resourceful, an acquired trait from years of having to work for her own wants. She is clever, able to think fast on her feet when need be, whether that be with people or objects. She works with what she has, nothing more, nothing less. If there is one thing you can rely on her for, it’s for her steadfastness. No matter what, she was persistent. Persistent she was going to survive. Persistent she was going to live. .

• Aaghnya stands at a short stature, with a very lean figure. Her skin is a dark tawny, with half of her face and shoulder being marred by flickers of fire. One of her eyes were gone, a mere socket remaining, but her other eye remains, the shade of it a dark brown. Her hair barely flows down her face, an uneven cut to both sides of it.
• She has large burn scars that cover her left face and shoulders. Her left eye is gone as well.
• Aaghnya did not have a lot of clothing options as a child, but you would find her wearing baggy clothing, tightened with other fabrics, some with ornamental mehndi designs.