ENIGMA | JIMIN

?forty-seven?

The little memory causes tears to fill your eyes but you sniffle and lift your chin, prideful.

You couldn't let these demons see any sign of weakness, especially now.

This wasn't a time to get emotional, no, you had to think fast.

You had no regrets about what you did, taking your own life was something your great-great grandfather would be proud of, and he would salute your courage and punish the clan for allowing things to take such a turn.

You were raised and taught to survive and though you loved your clan with all your heart, they were going against the one thing they had taught you all these years.

They were begging a survivor to sacrifice herself for a beast, the beast.

You couldn't let them do that.

The fail of the war hadn't been your fault but the miscalculations of the chiefs son, in other words, your brother.

You had warned him but pride was something that ran thick in the Ryoo clan.

How could he listen to you when you were nothing but a woman?

No, instead he was willing to let the entire clan lose to deliver you on a silver plate to the beast.

You worshiped the earth, the sun, the moon and the stars but you knew very little about the beast.

He had been a character told in tales to scare young disobedient children.

The representation of everything evil, betrayal, manipulation...

It was told that if you followed his footsteps you'd end up like him, chained in the depths of eternal flames.

You didn't believe in him, you could never believe in someone so vile, wicked and cruel, who took pleasure in taking innocent lives, causing chaos and mayhem wherever he stepped foot.

You were heartbroken at the betrayal of your clan but in some way you knew something fishy was always brewing behind your back.

All your life, despite being the great-great-great-granddaughter of the founder of the clan you've always been treated differently.

Some people feared you, stayed away from you, pushed you away and that for your physical differences.

You didn't look anything like the rest, your long silver hair had them questioning your existence, was it a curse?

Solitude had been your best friend as you grew.

Mothers kept their daughters away from you, and fathers were hesitant about pairing their sons with you for marriage, afraid their progenitors would end up looking like you or worse...

No one wanted to marry a woman capable of fending for herself even in the dark, no, man preferred women who would cry out for help, the damsel in distress.

Unfortunately that wasn't you and you will never stoop so low to be one.

Though this treatment from those who were supposed to love you hurt you, it also made you into the warrior you were.

Who needed a man anyway?

If he couldn't handle you then it could only mean he was weak and compared to you that was what the men of your clan were, weak.

You considered them all weak.

You'd watch the warriors of the clan practice for wars in the woods and you'd follow closely behind, copying all their moves until you could repeat every move flawlessly and better than any of them could ever dream of doing.