part 1

Perhaps suprisingly, Karsuma had a fairly normal childhood. He was born nestled among the mountain's embrace in Lorn Ridge, back always flanked by the roaring of the waterfall that cut through the territory. Ordinarily, the Ridge isn't a safe place for outsiders, and certainly isn't the place to raise a family, but Karasuma would've never wanted to grow up anywhere else.

His parents had met in the Ridge, many years ago. They'd fallen in love with the danger, and spent countless moons upon the rocky slopes learning how to survive the inshospitable. They found the perfect ways to avoid the cougers, and, if needed, fight them off. They figured out the best ways to steer clear of the bears that hunted at the river, making their den high up in the crags of rock that the beasts could not reach. After many years of living in the Lorn together, the two had a family consisting of three pups—two boys and one girl.

Karasuma grew up in these mountains with his siblings, learning the ways they survived the harsh landscape. He knew how to fight from a young age, should the cougers attack. Karasuma proved stronger than his two siblings, so his parents decided it was his duty to keep them safe, should the need arise.

At one point, he had a near deathly run in with a bear, getting a bit too cocky and sneaking down to the river when he wasn't supposed to. The boy made it out by the skin of his teeth, earning himself a new pelt of scars as a reward and memory of his failure. It was this day that he learned the strong survived and prospered. His family had that strength, had the control over the lands, and he would not take it for granted again by disobeying their rules.

Karasuma lived this way for the first few years of his life, basking in all the space and prey he could want. Since the Lorn was generally considered too dangerous for outsiders, his family had the sole claim over the entirety of the mountain. Even the cougars began to stay away, learning through the years that the family was not one to mess with. News of the family of wolves spread, jealously beginning to grow amongst rogues who had to scrounge and scrape by for very little.

One fateful night, unbeknownst to Karasuma and his family, another wolf crept throguh the Lorn, tracking their scent. The wolf that entered the Lorn was an assassin, paid by a jealous rogue with a promise of his firstborn son should the wolfess clear the family out of the Ridge so he could take their place.

What was probably minutes felt like hours to Karasuma as he watched the wolf sneak into their cave and murder every single member of his family. Karasuma knew he needed to fight, knew it was his job to protect his family, but he found his paws frozen to the cave floor, body trembling as the bloodbath coated his pelt. *The strong survive*. Even though his family was the strongest group of wolves he knew, taming the untamebale, settling the place most wolves whispered about in fear, this one wolf had come in and killed them all in the blink of an eye.

When the wolfess turned her eyes on Karasuma, looking like nothing more than a pup in the dim light, he dipped low to the ground, bowing. He begged to be taken into her service, to be trained in the ways of assassination. The strong survive, and Karasuma knew that, even though he was well taught and had good skills, he was nowhere near strong enough to live, not in the presence of this monster. Not in the presence of all the others like her in the world.

She took pity on him, seeing the hunger in his eyes, the clear fight to survive. For the next few years, the two lived side-by-side, the wolfess training Karasuma almost every technique she knew. Karasuma could tell she was hiding something, likely too afraid of the boy turning her techniques agaisnt her to teach him everything she knew. Still, Karasuma had no intention of harming her, the wolf who had showed him what true strength was like in the world. In fact, all he wanted was to make her proud, a feat it didn't seem like he could ever acomplish.

No matter how hard he worked, his master would never utter a mention of praise in his direction. He would kill more wolves than he could count and she would only instruct him on how he could be better, kill faster, kill more.

He was stronger, so much stronger than before, but his heart had grown hardended and cold: a far cry from the youth he used to be.

On a trip away from his master, who had now earned the title "The Reaper" for the work she was known for, Karasuma was approached by a wolf who had heard of his skills, but didn't know how he was trained. In whispered plees he begged Karasuma to kill The Repear, the one who had taken everything from him. While Karasuma normally would've refused, this time, he hesitated. Nothing he did had ever been enough for her, nothing ever made her proud.

What better way to prove to himself, to the *world* that he was strong, than to take down the Reaper herself?

And so, with this new goal in mine, Karasuma headed back to where they had agreed to meet, body seemingly alight. She offered him no greeting when he returned, merely flicked her tail at him to follow her. She didn't even see him as a *threat*, let alone someone worth respecting. Limbs tightening, Karasuma launched himself at The Repear. The fight was bloody, their screams echoed far through the night. Another scar joined the ones that littered his pelt, crossing through his right eye, impairing his vision slightly. Still, when dawn came, one wolf remained standing, and one lay in a pool of blood—just like the one she had turned his family into all those years ago.

Karasuma had done it, just like his family had years before: done the unthunkable. Killed the unkillable. And still, with all the strength in the world rushing through his claws, his teeth, he felt empty. Nearly in a daze, Karasuma wandered off into the morning light.

He didn't know how long he walked for, only that it was night when he finally collapsed. He hadn't been able to bring himself to eat or drink, too focused on the burning that wouldn't leave his body, his heart, his soul. *Was this how The Repear felt? How could she possibly bear it? Maybe her death had been a gift more than the punishment he believed it was.*

Mind made up, Karasuma pushed forward until he found another wolf, whom he collapsed in front of and begged to be killed. The wolf instead, a mass of black fur that called himself Jesear. Instead of teeth to his throat, claws raking through his wretched muzzle, the man sat before him and listened. When Karasuma finished telling him the tale of his life, the man stood and offered Karasuma a place in his home.

"You can never escape your past, no matter how far you run. Use your skills instead to serve a purpose bigger than yourself. Stand, and I will grant you a position as my Knight."

From that day on, Karasuma made his home amongst the wolves of the Province of Ventum, serving them as a knight.

TBA

TBA