DevilTail

===Basic Establishment===

Máire comes from the kingdom of Norland, she helped feed cattle and harvest crops having lived with her grandparents. She is often treated as giddy and "impish" in the words of her grandfather who she dearly adored, whether his stories, his advice or just a nice conversation. It's not quite know where her parents were but Máire knows theres little use in trying to dig information up, perhaps in fear that her parents would end up being the antagonists of their own stories.

Stories.

These are what Máire loves above all else. From fairy tales, war stories or perhaps improvisational. She aspires to write and be an author some day, but her patience and energy gradually becomes obnoxious for her when she has to sit down and jot down her ideas.

Máire, in terms of personality, is often described as cute but mischevious. She likes to joke around with people and have a laugh, perhaps over a beer or two, but understands when jokes are taken a bit far; hearty would be better term. Though upon first glance she looks feeble, she is (somewhat) capable of putting up a fight but in the end armed combat will never be her style, rather instead a bit of roughhousing or scwabble.

===Backstory===

It was a hot summer's morning. The orange sunset peered over the hills like an eye watching the world move. The light of it shone upon hair of a matching colour that belonged to a girl by the name of Máire. This girl was around the age of 9 at this point in time; she'd spent her life on a farm south of the local forest with her grandparents. As Máire skipped her way through the woods with her pouch filled with twigs which she wanted to use to help craft a bird's nest as a helping hand to nature, her feet resembled the rhythm of a favorite polka of hers.

The woods weren't quiet, but they were calming with the amount of noise; birds of all variations chirped and whistled up the spruce pillars with their jagged spikes of pines and the willows hung reeds weighing to the floor like a sad old man bending over in misery. Máire stopped to admire a wonderfully tall tree of which she could pinpoint branches and dents to use to climb... and then she begun.

The climb was vigorous, but when she made it to the top she stared in awe to new heights of woodlands, even catching sight of foxes trotting and deer drinking from the lakes. Blades of sunlight shone through the leaves of that summer afternoon and put a gloried spotlight on lavenders and daisies. Even the mushrooms of red and white or just a plain grey looked miraculous to behold.

But it was all a distraction.

Her foot missed the next climb and she fell. Down and down and down. She hit the dirt with a thud and was introduced to the horrific nature of back pains that her granddad had envied her for not having in the prime of her youth.

She didn't want to get up, it hurt so bad and she just wanted a wash. What compelled her to get up as soon as 5 seconds was the sound of laughter... that of an older boy with caramel-coloured skin and black hair like a raven. She clutched a fist and stood with the best posture she could (which wasn't very good, lets be frank) to look at this boy with a stare like daggers.

The boy looked around her social-class from rugged, though perhaps he was a schoolboy by then. He laughed and laughed and she just wanted to charge and punch him in the stomach. And she tried... tried...

The boy stopped her hand and shoved her back into the hot dirt, he was clearly older than her by a year or two and it was clear any fight against him would have her home bruised raw. And thus she decided to raise her voice at him; "What're you laughing at?" She said bitterly, the joy of previous moments was gone and her stubbornness was being emitted more than her ginger hair and icy-lake blue eyes.

"You of course" The boy returned with quickly and in a way that was about as modest as a pigeon plotting to steal that sandwich you want to finish... and Máire hated pigeons.

The (now) hotheaded ginger wasn't fond of how serious the boy was taking this; she was in pain. Her back felt like a boulder was constantly pushing against it.

Máire turned on a heel and began to storm off with an awkward spine, back home. She was on the verge of tears having first experienced a strange concept her granddad had described to her as "being an *******"

Then laughter began again, at first it was in her mind as a memory that she'd humiliated herself in the wrong and the wrong time, then she realised the boy had started again... it was getting closer as was the thud of his boots before she felt a hand forced upon her back. She fell to the ground and graised her cheek on the floor. She tried to get up but was stopped by the boy pressing his foot down on her back making her enable.

"Come on! Don't just leave after that, it was funny"

This mockery was infuriating, blazes of rage were beginning to burn away at both Máire's patience and moral compass.

She struggled to get up but it was no use. She was utterly defenceless. Her last resort was to give up something she valued highly; Dignity

"Let me go"

"Why should I?"

"Please?"

Then he laughed again at this her, it was like nails down a chalkboard and her head burned in shame. She'd made things a lot worse for herself by responding like he would comply for manners.

She spoke again, though now the stubbornness was gone and she was truly pathetic once more, her voice beckoned the impression that she was about to cry.

"Please just let me go" *Sniffle* "I didn't do anything"

The boy responded with a chuckle, though not as confident. Not it seemed he wasn't a complete sociopath and knew when he should stop. He stopped pressing his boot on her back and she scrambled pathetically to her feet, brushing off her trousers. Though she was now slow and weighed down by blocks of lead (in her case) that was hurt and tears.

Máire buried her head into her hands and cried. Her hands were filthy with dirt and scapes... her cheek hurt as did her back. She barely made out the sound of the boy running off, perhaps he didn't want to risk the chances of peers looking at him traumatize this little girl.

Máire strode to a nearby tree and hugged her knees to her chest to sob with her face buried to her arms. The sounds weren't like they were. The birds were quiet and rustle of leaves made better for a ghost town than a forest to be marveled.

After she cried the last of her cries she stood to her feet and began to head home; cold, hungry and injured.

But then;

A scream echoed from the forest, if the boy's voice was nails on a chalkboard then this scream was several swords fighting a man with armour of chalkboards.

She recognised the tone of the voice and as much as she didn't want to, she decided to head towards it. Along the way she picked up a long stick with a pointed end and a round bottom from where it had left it's larger trunk.

The screaming stopped... and followed whimpering Máire could hardly make out. She headed for a nearby rather steep ditch and at the bottom was the boy... a horrific sight that haunted Máire even 12 years later.

The older boy's leg was bent in a way that it shouldn't, blood seeping from the wound and with an environment like this it could be soon be infected.

"What the hell are you looking?! Go get help! The boy called at her with a stone cold aggressive expression. Then he spoke again; "Oh I get it... You want revenge and you're going to finish me off with a ******* twig!?"

Máire dropped the twig and went around to his back to try and lift him but to no avail. If she went to get help the boy would be left for dead, an easy target for predators lurking this far into the woods... wolves, ravens or some vile insects who do that sort of thing: the very thought sent chills down Máire's spine and it was hurting enough already.

"What did this to you?" Maíre asked, stubbornness returning to its former glory.

"I don't know! It was a horrid beast that was quicker than anything I'd ever seen!"

Didn't really answer her question. There were several guesses she could've made but not of them improved the situation.

Máire's decided to do something drastic; she wrapped her arms beneath the boy's armpits and lifted with all her might.

There is a reoccurring factor in all this; That was one painful back.

After her channeling of brute strength she will, she finally got them back to the ditch and began the trek to the farm.

The trip was taunting.... not a chirp was made and no wind whistled wildly. Máire concluded through her pain that silence was loud.

The boy groaned out something after they were almost back at Máire's grandparent's farm.

"I'm... sorry about what happened"

Máire was in an eternal wince and spoke back in the same manner.

"Shut up! Least you can..." *heave* "--do!... until you can live on crutches"

"Right... I suppose I... deserve that"

"You do.... not heed what...--Saaaaid."

Every step, every second was like a snail. Pain like this from both of them would make this a trip to remember. And it sure would be.

"My name is... Jace... by the way"

"Good to know" She said sarcastically then returned to a voice a bit less easier to hate "I'm... Máire... Máire Wittle"

Then they were silent again. The farm came into view with birds singing again. Máire was touched with hope again...

Inspite of how slow they thought time was going, Máire checked the sun to estimate the time. The sun was coming up over the horizon, peering over the hills.

Máire began to skip through the wood to the rhythm of her favorite polka. But this time she'd come back with more than she'd taken.

===New beginnings===

Máire sat at the chair at Grandma's bedside. She was quiet... as was the house... silence was loud.

She glanced at the painting of the wall and sighed. At the footer read bold numbers of 3 years ago.

Granddad had passed and things were certainly different without him.

Rain splattered down the windows from the storm outside as Máire peered outside.

She looked down for a few seconds then had her head raised again by the pecking of the window. A crow pecked against the glass with a scroll on it's left leg.

Máire opened it, a gust of wind blew the curtains to reach like hands behind her.

She untied the note from the leg and read it, not bothering to shut the window.

"Dear Máire

I hope you're receiving this well;

I've been all over the land in travels to discover its beauties.

It's been a 3 years since I told you goodbye, and obviously I know it must've been hard to sustain cattle and crops without the spirits of your grandfather.

I'd like to invite you to come visit sometime here in Haense  if it were possible, perhaps with your grandmother.

I've missed our little talks and it'd be honorable for us to meet again.

Your friend

Jace"

She crumpled up the note and shut the windows after letting the crow fly off back to whence it came.

Lightning and thunder struck, causing Máire to jump.

It was then she noticed.

The room was quiet, silence louder than before... and Máire knew why.

The rhythm of her grandma's resting had stopped and Máire walked over to the side of her bed, gripping the old lady's hand tightly.

"Grandma...?" She spoke, tears forming from their ducts and rolling down her freckled cheeks.

"Grandma.... get up!" She shook the hag but it was no use.

The rain hit the windows more vigorously, and the cattle bleeted and clucked in the barn. They were shaken as was the girl who would now inherit the farm.

Thunder rolled and lightning struck a burning tree. The wind whistled and pulled at the oak branches further to the ground.

It wasn't silent anymore.

Máire spent the rest of the night sobbing at what was once her Grandma's side...

The door locked and Máire stood to look at the sunrise on the horizon. Goats bleeted as she passed their pens by with a full backpack of supplies and a key around her neck for the front door and gates.

She'd left the farm to some locals for the time being, whether or not she'd return was undecided but her trek had begun.

Máire stopped at Santega and Renatus on her way to Haense. She'd marked a map from where she needed to go to find Jace.

It'd take weeks to get to him but that wasn't really that bad, afterall; she had many more years to search, even if her lifespan was the one of the shortest of this strange world.

When those months had passed she awed at the site of the entrance to Haense and she knew who she needed to find.

*Sound of a book shutting*

Máire sat by a post, observing the crowds and put aside her quill and began possibly the more exciting part of her life.