Ayla's Story

Wiping her brow of the sweat that had accumulated there, how it glistened on her pale skin before running down her face then falling off to soak into the terrain beneath her feet. She had been away from her home for the past two hours, but it was well worth it, considering she was finally able to find the small treasures. Her bright strawberry red eyes glimmering in delight as she looked at her small haul, the small goblins didn’t stand a chance. Even if she did have some light weapons to fend them off, she merely dealt a few punches before they ran off screaming.

With a smug grin on her face, her cheeks covered in a bit of dirt, she finally began heading home. Ayla felt like the hero of her story. She was the heroine that brought down the dragon in the story.

In reality, Ayla had taken down the goblin hoards with her own two hands (even if she did have weapons to aid her), and that was a feat most people wouldn’t be able to complete. Her bright red hair shining beneath the high sun, making it almost seem like she had hair that was as bright as the flames and that her energy that could easily scorch everything in its path.

One could almost imagine it - with the boundless energy that she had trapped within her small form as she walked back down the forest path. Her feet kicking up the red and brown leaves as though they were being pushed out of her way, parting the path to allow her to cross like the queen that she is. After all, everything that she touched and everything that she defeated, that territory, now belonged to her.

There was a pause in her walk. Her bright and shining strawberry red eyes sparkling in her latest conquest. Her backpack filled to the brim with her treasure. She was practically giddy at the idea of showing her parents the gold, the gems and the other little trinkets she managed to claim in her conquest. Ayla knew she did well, even if she may be scolded because she still refused to use the knife she was given and any other weapons, but that took the fun out of it! Plus, if she used the knife then there was a chance she would have killed the goblins and that was the one thing she absolutely did not want to do.

With her loot in hand and her feet brushing against the floor, she was able to make her way towards her home. A small yet modest home. One where she knew it always smelled of baked sweets because of her mother’s masterful baking, she could always expect to smell the combination of sweet sugar and spicy cinnamon intermingling with one another. Then she could always expect her father to be standing outside with a large round of lumber. Axe in hand as he chopped away at it.

Sometimes kindling for the fireplace or just some furniture that replaced any of the broken pieces in their home. It was something that always amazed her. And amongst the furniture that her father had made with his hands, would be a small intricate oak chest. Once she made it to her home, with her one leather gloved hand, she knocked on its pristine face. When it opened with a groan, there stood her mother with a rather sweet look on her face. Arms reaching out to wrap around Ayla as the middle aged elf squeezed her.

“Welcome home, Ayla.”