Your name is Myranthira. You are of Asmodae. You are a Daeva.

You were only twelve years old when you joined Ulgorn's raiders. Before that you lived by yourself. You faintly remember how your mother looked, before she died when you were seven. Since that time you had to learn to take care of yourself. You were only twelve years old when you ascended, and twelve years old you shall remain for all of eternity.

Your name is Myranthira and you are an Assassin.

Why did you decide to be an Assassin? Perhaps you didn't care for the slow speed of the bows more commonly used by Rangers, or perhaps you liked the idea of being shrouded in mystery. You may have liked the darkness associated with being an Assassin; you are Asmodian after all.

Your name is Myranthira and this is probably the most dangerous mission you've ever done.

Why did you take up this mission again? You're not even very experienced; you've only recently become a Daeva. But you were promised an incredible amount of money, which you seriously needed. Just because you're immortal doesn't mean you don't need sustenance.

Your name is Myranthira and you're right in the middle of an Elyos campsite.

The mission was to scout out the campsite to look for information as to why these Elysians set up camp in Asmodae. The crazy fools are getting more and more rash. If it was up to you, you would have the camp destroyed, but the higher-ups feel there must be a reason for their seemingly unreasonable actions. Besides, you're a soldier: you follow orders, not ask questions.

And now you're right in the middle of them. As an Assassin, you're able to hide with the use of magic, but it won't last forever; you must hide quickly before it wears off.

You rush into a tent right as your hiding magic wears off. Luckily you are all alone. It's relatively dark in the tent; the only light comes from the crack of the entrance. The darkness relaxes you. You can blend in easily in darkness due to your dark grey skin. Your startlingly white hair, however, is a bit of a contrast that you fear may give you away if you're not careful. You've considered dying it black, but that, of course, requires money, which you're lacking in at the moment.

But anyway, back to business. While the darkness comforts you, it makes it much harder to see. You don't bother to light a lamp, else someone outside the tent may notice and catch you red-handed. Your eyes quickly adjust to the darkness, which does help you see at least a little better. On a desk you notice a closed letter, the seal still not broken, sticking out from a pile of disorganized papers. Elyos don't seem to be particularly careful about these things

You cautiously approach the desk and try to slide the letter out of the pile, but you're too rash! The papers all fall to the floor with a loud thud.

"What was that?" you hear from outside. Panicking, you duck behind some cargo boxes to your left, praying the Elyos don't see you. Looking in between the boxes, you watch an Elyos enters the tent. He is relatively older than you, and clearly more experienced. He probably ascended when he was around eighteen or nineteen years old. He rushes into the tent, a great sword drawn. He is tall and muscular, with very intricate and impressive armor. He is clearly a Gladiator. Not noticing you, he relaxes a bit and calls in another, "It's safe, Narynthia. It must've been the wind or something."

Another Elyos walks in, clearly afraid. She seems to be only a few years older than you, probably fourteen, "I'm sorry, Alekzandre, I guess I was a little nervous."

He smiles and ruffles her dark hair, "It's alright. Most newbies tend to be a little scared. Plus I heard you only just ascended, so it's natural."

She bows her head, clearly ashamed of her cowardice, "It wont happen again, I promise!"

The Daeva called Alekzadre chuckles, "Don't be so dramatic about it! No one's even in here. Anyway, gather up those papers. I'll check on the food Dylareth's making. I'm starving!" He pats her head once more and left the tent.

Narynthia sighed, and got to work on the papers. She gathers all of them up and dumps them all on the table in a messy pile, as they were before, except for the sealed letter. It tumbles out of her grasp, right in front of the cargo box to your left. Now's the opportunity! You cautiously reach in between the boxes for the letter. It's just out of your reach. You try inching closer to it, and-

Narynthia spots your arm and looks at you in surprise. You freeze, caught red-handed. After a second of horrible silence, she screams.

"ALE-" and you cut her off by pouncing out from behind the boxes, tackling her to the ground, and covering her mouth with your hands. She begins to struggle, but you put your sharp claws on her throat, "Be quiet and stop struggling, or I'll slice open your neck!" you hiss. She immediately stops struggling. The coward.

"Now," you continue, "I'm going to be on my way, and you won't scream or struggle, or I'll set you on fire." You actually have no means of doing this, but it sounds menacing enough. For all she knows, you could be Sorcerer or a Spiritmaster.

She says nothing, but her eyes begin to tear up. Wow, she's even more of a coward than you thought she was. You pick up the letter from behind you and slip it into your pocket. You slowly let go of her, and immediately hide yourself again with magic. You rush out of the tent and away from the campsite as fast as you can.

Your name is Narynthia. You are of Elysia. You are a Daeva.

And you just let that Asmodian get away without so much as a glare.

This opens up old wounds and insecurities. You still have no clue as to why you ascended. You barely just began training as a Fighter, then all of a sudden your chosen to ascend and you're a Templar! And then you're chosen to go to Asmodae on a special mission! Why did this have to happen? You were content with your normal human life, you didn't want this!

You leave the tent, head down. You know you should tell someone about the Asmodian, but you just can't bring yourself to do it. You know all the other Elyos look down on you for being so young and soft. Alekzandre is the only one who's been friendly to you. You don't want to lose his respect too.

You decide to pretend the whole thing didn't even happen. It'd be too embarrassing. You sit by the campfire, next to Alekzandre, who was obliviously and happily munching on an Airon leg.

(A/N: so, first story in a looonngg time. I've been having this story idea rolling around in my head since I started playing Aion, so I decided I may as well write it here! This first chapter's a little short, but later chapters will be longer. Hope you enjoy, and please leave a review! :D )