The elf village had been attacked and the funny thing is you could see the snow turn from its tender white to an off reddish pink. How could anyone forget the screams? There in the snow I lay hidden as the women with blonde hair was killing my people. There in the snow I lay as my mother ran with my younger brother. His little blue eyes lighting up in snow and his black hair could be seen as clear as day. The women with blonde hair took her whip and it stronger on my mother’s back. Then my little brother began to cry. The women with the blonde hair picked up the crying child her eyes were no longer empty. Her eyes showed pain for what she had done. She did not notice me in the snow for I blended well. She kissed my brother’s forehead and started to walk off with him. There I stood there all alone and for the first time I cried and for the first time I felt a bitter rage in my heart. A rage of jealousy and hate. The thoughts of revenge serviced I would take down the valkeries and the gods for what they had done. My father would here my cries but not of a weeping boy but of a man with an iron fist. That was the day a dark smirk crossed my lips and the heart inside beat a new tune. A tune for revenge and power. It was that day I would make sure to train. My elfish powers that were once so modest and pure would be my advantage. The skills of the sword once used for peaceful duels would not be used to take back what was rightfully mine. The clothes upon my chest would be black and thick as steal so that no weapon of man or God could cut threw it. My white hair as clean as the snow would keep its white color though once all is said and done it will be as dark as can be. My fist would learn to break strong bricks so that it crushes the bones of the enemy. Then of course my legs would train night and day running through the fields so that it may fasten its speed. There is no need for talk. The powers of the elements will be on my side for that winter day shall not be forgotten it is engraved in my mind like a tattoo.