The (very long) background story of Nigma Ebenos

The earliest memory she has of her origin is a long, long trip over windswept, barren lands to the city of Cherak, the city that would become her home. Her parents had brought her there at the age of 5 or so and for reasons unknown. Soon after their arrival and mere days after they had installed themselves in the city a tragedy struck her family. Her memories of the event are extremely blurred and all she remembers clearly is the blood and her parents’ faces, masks of pain painted across their lifeless features. The murderer, through some miraculous oversight, missed her, where she was hiding under the small kitchen table. Despite being too young to know death, she instinctively understood that her parents would never wake again. At first she spent a few days in the house, crying as silently as possible in fear of the murderer returning to finish the job. But as no one came she finally dared to go out into the bustling streets of the unfamiliar city. However, she did not get far for a neighbour lady saw her walk out on her own and took her back into her house so she would not come to harm. “This city was no place for children to play on there ownâ€, the lady had said. She also remembered how the lady screamed when she saw the bloodied bodies in the kitchen. Nigma never knew what happened afterwards, only that she got put into a place with other children. The place was dirty and she was hungry all the time and the other children kept making fun of her thin frame and abusing her whenever the adults were not supervising them, which was very often. The older children were smart and knew to hit her where it wouldn’t show and any potential questions, and they were very few, were answered with a child’s innocent “we were playing and she fellâ€. No one stood up for her when they stole her food, no one helped her when she was beaten and she soon felt that everyone was against her, and those who weren’t simply did not care. The latter would probably explain why no one ever came looking for her when she left the orphanage or why people would walk past the skinny little girl without even a second glance. She was starving and stealing became her only means of survival. But as one of the many children roaming the streets, competition turned out to be hard and even if the theft was successful you had to fight to keep your quarry. Cherak moulded her into who she had to become to survive, and already as a teenager she was an excellent thief with focus only on her own survival and little or no regard for other humans. The city had taught her that caring for others was a luxury only available to the ones living in the safety of society, a society which she had never been part of and resented because it had chosen to shut her out.

At the age of 18 she was almost infamous in the city, even though no one knew who she was or what she looked like. Partly due to her success, thieving became a hazardous business and any potential thief was hunted down and brought to “justiceâ€, as the leaders of society would call it. It was also during time she got caught for the very first time. Nimbly climbing through the window of one of the finest houses in the city one night, she was spotted by a girl in her teens. After a millisecond of frozen silence the girl opened her mouth to scream and before Nigma had time to think her arm had already reached the rusty dagger at her belt, and flung it into the throat of the girl. The girl’s eyes widened in shock and Nigma’s mind was stalled by panic. She grabbed her dagger, if they found a lead on her she would be dead. Fortunately it had been dark in the room so the girl had most likely not seen exactly how she looked. Just as she turned to leave, the door opened and a guard entered. She quickly hid in the darkness of the room, watching the silhouette of the man carefully. The light from the room beyond fell onto the dead girl and the guard shouted for backup. Nigma had no choice and silently she crept through the room and before the guard even noticed her, his throat had already been cut. She made her escape through the window but just as she jumped out onto the roof an arrow shot straight through her ribcage. The moonlight! It had mad her a formidable target, and she had not thought about it. She cursed again, spitting blood as she crawled across the roofs, vaguely aware of the heavy footfall behind her, if it had only been cloudy, if only the sky had been moonless! Her body felt like a sack of sand and her usual agility failed her over and over. She stumbled and fell and she swayed dangerously near the edge of unconsciousness. Suddenly she spotted a tree with big, stable branches and with leaves that offered impenetrable protection from her persuaders. It was a good leap away though but either the fall would kill her, or the guard would and even if she made it, the wound would probably drain her life away anyway. But she’d rather rot in a tree than die in the hands of people and as she focused her mind and drew together all the strength she had left, she jumped from the rooftop and into the tree with what would seem almost ease. That last effort drained all the will that had kept her conscious and she passed out before even having time to be surprised or reflect on the sudden ease with which she had taken that jump.

Had it been a day, days? Had it really happened? Her memories of that night seemed strangely distant but the arrow which still protruded from her chest banished any doubts. It had been real. Somehow she had also managed to hold onto her dagger and she used it to cut the tip of the arrow and then pulled it out the back. Her own strength surprised her and she almost yanked it loose rather than slowly pulling it out which she had had in mind, her body seemed to soar with unearthly powers, of an intensity which seemed almost godlike. Exalted, so that was what it felt like.

It quickly became clear to her that this city was no longer safe, although no one knew her features still, her somewhat distinctive arrow wound matched the one described on the “wantedâ€-poster perfectly. She found that hiding and sneaking past people was much easier than before, it was as though shadows were drawn to her and eagerly lingered around her face as to shield her from the questioning glances of the city authorities. It was as though she no longer existed alongside, but above them. Although tempted to play around with her new powers and punish those she felt deserving, she was still wounded and this city was no longer a place for her. After stealing a horse and carriage she let the horse lead the way and the roads take her wherever they would and eventually she ended up in Sijan. There she explored her new abilities but soon grew restless and hitched a ride with a ship. Onboard she discovered that not only was she more skilled when it came to killing people, she also had absolutely no problem with doing it. The shocked horror she felt when killing the young girl in Cherak, had quickly turned into a dark pleasure of exercising her own justice. After arriving in Kirighast, leaving a ship and its crew terrified of the murdering shadow ghost in the hold, she soon found people who had something in common with her. They may not have had the same ideals as her, or the same views as far as people and life was concerned, but at least they were solars and that was a start.