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The people that had abducted us from our broken home were an alien race that called themselves 'Eldar'. They too had appeared to be human, except their heads were taller. This was to play host to a number of senses that was theirs to uniquely possess. Psychic powers were at their command and the strongest were able to unravel visions of the future so that they could manipulate it to the benefit of their people.

As children, we could be taught to think differently and believe the lies they fed us. We began to see them as the liberators that they so claimed to be, who were searching the stars to find their lost people. The 'Old Ones' who grew up outside their teachings were too far gone to be saved and had to be purged for the purity of the nexus that linked all our psyche. We were the lucky ones, to have been found before we too had become corrupt. Thus we were absorbed back into their society.

This ment we were being trained for war. There was no such thing as peace, for time will always give rise to other sentient species who always sought the xenocide of anything that was not them. For that, we were to be prepared, to strike first if our leaders foretold of them attacking us.

Although we were brought into their fold, we were looked upon like second-class citizens. Laws were stacked against us, for we could be killed by any Eldar and they would not be questioned. If we fought amongst ourselves, all caught up in it could potentially be killed off. There was no such thing as a court for us, only a chair where our minds would be invaded and stripped of the information they needed. Leadership positions were reserved only for the truly talented, meaning we had to surpass the talent of an Eldar in order to be even considered.

And it was nearly impossible as our own psychic abilities typically developed only to the point of being able to hear their thoughts clearly. We couldn't even project our own.

During our training to become Guardians, the basic foot soldier, there was a girl I had become attached to. She was 16 when I had turned 14, though she had always been watching over me. Why? I'll likely never know, but she did hold me back from several times that I had nearly been dragged into a fight. So she had also protected me from feeling the wrath of the Eldar superiors. Shara, that was her name, had come from another city that was laid waste to, so she knew nothing of Aldersburg.

I don't know where my brother was while I grew. Not once had I seen him, so I thought him dead.

The 'Day of Trials' arrived.

I was 18, and it was the day that I'd experience my first kill or wiped out of existence. Death was the ultimate fear, for the Eldar didn't believe in a life after death. Only warriors would be perserved into the Infinity Nexus, a method ment to cheat death and grant clearer visions. So to die in failure to become an adult was the greatest shame brought onto oneself. Though the battles were stacked against us. The person I had to defeat... It was Shara.

We both just stood there in the arena pit, looking at each other in disbelief. Had the Eldar sensed our love and wanted to ensure that whoever survived would be hardened forever? The crowd began shouting at us, chanting a singular word. "Kill!" It was then that a voice pierced my head, and I'm certain it was speaking to her as well. It told us that if we continued to do nothing then we would both die. If either of us just killed ourself, the other would die as well.

Shara walked over towards me. I couldn't find the strength to life my rifle, she hadn't raised her's. A pale hand touched the cold steel of the barrel and began to raise it up. "They want to make me a Warlock, Dartmoor." I couldn't believe it! Did the Eldar really want to give her that high of a leader position? Only a Farseer could pull rank at that level. "But you have so much more ahead of you. Your the only one who can stop him." I didn't know what she was talking about. Him? Who?

I didn't pull the trigger. Someone else had, I know it! As my finger had tightened, I fought it. All it took was one shot and Shara fell to the ground. Dead. Tears rolled out of my eyes as I clutched her limp body in my arms. A single shot shouldn't have been so effective. These weapons were designed to kill slowly... agonizingly. Yet she wasn't breathing, and the life was already gone from her eyes. I may have shamed myself that day by showing weakness in stature, but my first love was dead. Dead because of me.

It took four Guardians to pry me away from her body. I didn't want to let go of Shara, even if her soul already was quenched out. Three Farseers came down and glared at me. To them, I was an insignificant bug that just killed the greatest non-Eldar ever to live. Their visions had shown them that she would easily kill me.

[To be continued *Another edit coming soon*]