I came to this world without a mother or a father to raise me, or anyone to teach me how to hold my sword. I learned my way into the land by exploring and making mistakes. I am nobody's property, I go where my heart desires.

I sit on a log outside the alchemy store waiting for my clan mates, my brothers and sisters in arms. I sharpen my sword and look up to the leaves up on the trees. Years have passed since my first footprints sunk on the sand in the wide spread desert. My skin is not young and clear anymore, the battles have now drawn roads and symbols from where I once bled. Yet, there are no traces from my previous lives before my current, no holes from the bullets that entered my body and came out burning pieces of skin. Those times are long gone now, but will stay with me forever.

"Are you ready?" the clan master asks me. "Lead the way" I say while I stand. Hopefully this won't be a fatal battle for me, but I will rather die trying that running away.

The things on my backpack are only what I need, everything else I give to people that shows me good intentions. "But this is too expensive!!" they tell me sometimes when I give them items. I can'