Zorranza Rosefang

"No loose ends." ~House of Bellarose-Now Zorra

Description:

“Don’t ask the retard stupid questions. Just give him the bat poop.” -Zorra

Bio:

Zorranza Rosefang of House Bellarose

You wish to know my tale? How arrogant. Since I’ve finally regained my memories, I might as well share.

I don’t really remember my parents, as I was five when I left them. I say ‘left’, but it was a bit more complicated than that. See, the REAL Nobles of my—our, time, had stature in the King’s court. They had REAL power, not just land. One such Noble family was the House Bellarose of the High Elven race. Don’t let the name fool you, for this was a military House of the highest order. Renowned warriors, everyone, even the women, served in the armed forces one way or another.

The Head of the House Gaspard, and his wife Inotia, had one daughter named Zorranza. When she was five years old, she went with her family to vacation near my home. On the way there, she was kidnapped by bandits and killed when the horse her and her servant were riding on spooked during the attack.

Inotia had already been declared barren, and in their desire to protect the family name and face they searched the immediate area for a girl that looked similar to Zorranza and was about the same age. However, the only young girl they could find in the surrounding area was me, a little Drow girl. Obviously, life for a Drow is hard because we are usually considered low class, and as such my family and I were starving. The Lord and Lady found my home, and bought me off my parents for enough food to last a year and gold to last for ten. I was a burden, and my parents were nearly dead from our lack of crops that year. They could always have more children, and I was being adopted by high elves.

Once I was handed over and the food exchanged, my parents went inside the house to start making trips to stock the food away. They should have run. My new family immediately ordered for the servants to set the house on fire, trapping my parents inside as they screamed in terror and agony. I was being held on a horse by my new father, my own cries filling the air as I watched my parents die.
My new mother slapped me across the face from her horse, her eyes scowling in disgust. “Remember this lesson, Zorranza, Bellarose’s never leave loose ends.” She spat at me while my eyes and throat burned with the flesh tainted ash that was filling them. I knew then that I still wasn’t wanted, but I was needed.

The next to die were the servants who knew I wasn’t the real Zorranza Bellarose. Meanwhile, a sorcerer was hired to make a spell for me so that I would appear to be of the High Elven race, and not the Dark Elven girl that was my true form. He was able to make the perfect illusion, changing my skin so that it was fair and my hair to ebony black as long as I kept atleast a few braids in my hair. I could remove the guise at any time by letting my hair down and then replace it once a few braids were redone, but those times where I was my true self were few and far between. He was promptly murdered as well, though Inotia made a comment once that he had put up a mighty fight.

A “Tragic accident” involving bandits, which my “parents” hunted down and slaughtered in retribution. “No. Loose. Ends.” The other nobles celebrated their triumph, and didn’t question the fact that the young noble girl now had Sapphire blue eyes instead of grey. Or why we stayed on vacation longer than normal. I had a lot of learning to do on how to be a noble.

I was beaten daily as part of my “lessons”, whether to get stronger, punishment, or just simply because I wasn’t their real daughter. Mercy was never an option for House Bellarose, but I’m not going to give you a sob story of all the different kinds of beatings they gave me, or that most of the scars I carry are not from battles.

I was sent to the most prestigious military academy as soon as I was of age, no longer at the graces of my tutors. Time passed and I rose in the ranks quickly, not only because of my name but because of my skill. I joined the Royal Guard, the youngest to ever join much less graduate from the Academy. I took on the surname of Rosefang, a nickname that the soldiers had given me. A dangerous beauty with twin fang-like swords. When I won a war against the giants, I was named Commander over the entire Royal Guard, putting me as the King’s right hand and leader of the whole army.

But I hated it. I hated the nobility and everything they stood for, even after my adoptive parents finally met their “unfortunate” end. My own right hand, Aerytos, who was Captain of the Guard, while being my closest friend, never knew my true feelings on the tyranny of the monarchy, or on some other matters. No loose ends, and even if he agreed, I didn’t want to drag him into my ordeals. Not to mention, I was certain that he only felt for me as a subordinate would normally feel for his superior, but he was the closest thing I had to a friend. Regardless, behind the scenes I was planning a coup. A revolution, so that the lower class would no longer be trampled on.

When Aerytos brought his family’s murderer before me, I was thrilled for him. Perhaps his mind could finally find rest after his childhood. I sentenced the man to death, and everything went to Hell.

At the execution, I turned away for just a MOMENT to speak to a lieutenant, and when I returned to the scene I found Aerytos taking the prisoner’s place, the strike falling on him as I screamed. But I was too late. Even as I ran forward, the Headsman slew the only person whom I could even pretend was my friend. Without a second thought I drew one of my scims and decapitated the Headsman, snarling that that was what happened to those who acted without my orders. One of Aerytos’s men stammered what his captain had done, while other members of the guard kept hold of the prisoner and his two children. I stared at them with cold eyes, blood splattered on my face and dripping off my blade. “Leave, so that his mercy is not in vain.” I growled, and the Guards released them, the rest of the crowd scattering.

Years passed, and I devoted myself to hunting down criminals and fueling the ever growing rebellion. I caught wind of the kingdom’s most wanted, and finally had a decent tail on him. When I caught up to the pyromancer, I thought that he was merely another criminal, albeit a nasty one, until I got a good look at his face. It was the face of the boy who Aerytos had given his life for so that he wouldn’t be an orphan. A loose end I hadn’t dealt with when I had the chance.

I was filled with rage, and immediately dragged him back to the citadel to have him executed. As he burned in the fire he so loved, I cursed him, over and over I cursed him to 100 years in the abyss. I wanted his soul to be damned for all that he had done, and for what he meant to me. I hated the nobility even more, because they had been right. You can NEVER leave loose ends.
My mind fogged by the turmoil I was feeling after the execution, I rushed the coup, wanting to be rid of the monarchy once and for all. We failed, miserably. The members that weren’t slaughtered were offered a deal: Give up their leader, or die a slow, agonizing death. They gave me up, and they still died. All hail the great nobility.

I was brought in and crucified as a traitor, and while I hung there a bonfire was lit beneath me so that I would burn at the stake as well. Having been flogged thoroughly beforehand, my mind and body were numb to the flames for the first few moments, until I started to smell my own burning flesh and felt the skin on my upper body melt and drip off as I burned alive. I didn’t scream, however. I had lived with pain my whole life, and I had been trained to be stronger than any pain. I lived as a legend, and died as a traitor.

Zorranza Rosefang

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