Life is an interesting thing, you know. We go through the motions, more or less content with our situation, not even aware of the time that has passed, nor the effect of these motions, until we look back on them, wishing we could change just one thing, often time realizing that if we were to have paid a little more attention to the past or just done more than let life move around us, we would not wish to change the past or regret it.

They say that ones beginning is the most important part of their story, but reflecting on my past, I have learned that I have two beginnings. Yes I was born, but I have two lives, and two names. Lindoria Whisperwallow. A name I no longer choose to use, and personally, one I do not deserve to use. A name that died all those years ago. A different time, and a different life. A different beginning. Lindoria, and excuse me if I talk about myself as if she and me are different for we are in a way, was born into a nomadic clan of elves, and I was the younger of two, my sister Margline being a few years older than myself, was a gifted huntswoman, and I was being groomed to be one as well, though I was born with an odd quick for our namesake, the gift of magic. Most of my namesake did not have this capacity, only my grandmother possessing a trait great enough to be trained in it. This being the case I was sent off, cloistered as it were, maybe even quarantined, from my sister in order to be trained to control, and hide, this gift. My family did not want my powers to be known to the rest. This was not due to them thinking I was dangerous, no that came later, but rather because they did not want me to possess this, but instead wanted me to be like my sister, a huntswoman, you know, normal.

After spending what felt like an eternity away from my family, learning to control what I was gifted with, and only visited by my sister, the rest avoiding me like a taint, I was finally deemed safe, you know, normal. My sister would train me in the ways of the bow, and we would play like old times, but the rest of my family seemed to avoid me, like I was still not normal enough for them. Time moved on, and my sister and I trained and learned, well my sister was trained and she in turned trained me since most of my family did not want anything to do with me, but I was not concerned with them, only my sister and her love.

However, one day, while we were training we got into a little play fight of sorts. I felt warm at first while we were teasing a shoving each other. She even, between bouts, showed me this drawing she found of the weirdest, and lewd, little man she saw carved onto a tree. I never to this day understood why she thought it was so funny...I wish I could have asked her. Suddenly, while wrestling on the forest floor, that warm feeling became greater, and greater still, until I felt like I was going to explode, then I did in a way. Fire burst out everywhere, though somehow I was unarmed, by sister...my dear sister was engulfed in flames. There was nothing I could do, even if I had the capacity it was too late.

I ran as fast as I could, dragging her with me, as the forest went up. Our entire clan ran out of the forest in a panic. Apparently more lives were lost during that evacuation, but I did not have the mental capacity to process anything I was hearing. It felt like a nightmare and all I wanted to do was wake up, and see her smiling face again, her warm embrace as she hugged me, just anything. My family and clan branded me as a murderer, saying I intended to kill them all. I tried to plead my case but no one on the council would listen. I was exiled from the clan, branded as such with a scar on my neck, for all to know what I have done. 'Exiled' on my neck, 'Murderer' on my back. Never allowed to forget the sins of my past.

So has one door shut, and one life died, another started, another beginning. Margles, not very elfish, but as Lindoria Whisperwallow died, so too did many other things. I still keep small keepsakes of my sister. I still practice what she taught me, and even still draw that weird little creepy man she showed me about that one day. Many eventually I will ask someone of its meaning, or maybe if I get to see her in another life I will finally get to ask her, if she would take me back as her sister. I always wonder while looking back if there was anything I could have done, anything that could have been changed to alter the course my life has taken. The answer is always yes as I reflect on it, but the trying question, the one that I can never find an answer to, until recently, is how. This man...this weird man, says he can open a gateway to another world, alternate dimension, another realm of existence. Maybe, just maybe, I might be able to find a way for this man to help me reunite with my sister. Maybe I can find a place where I did not make the same mistakes I made before, and finally connect back with her. That is all I need in this world, and no one will get in my way of this goal...no one.