Origins: First Blood Part 1

The day I became the Paladin was the day I became a symbol. It's how you survive in this grand underworld. Being crueler, smarter, and more charismatic will have your actions ripple out into distortion. Eventually, twisting into something unrecognizable over time. That hurdle serves as a barrier preventing most from ever going forward.

However, you can become a legend if you transcend the flesh and control the chaos. Or at least that's how I did it. I'm a nervous drop of sweat, hesitant gulp, and paranoid jitter to every criminal who thinks of me. A myth that will trudge through dirt and snow to kill with bloody hands. Not even Titan knows my past, and I doubt they ever will.

So when I tell you this tale, know it isn't out of sadness or forewarning. Regardless of your thoughts, I've made peace that my path ends in a bloody noose. Whether I or someone else tightens, it is still a mystery. No matter what happens, I am not dying as a hero or martyr but as a sinner with a story. I'll start at the beginning.

Growing up, my birth parents weren't around much. I was a "surprise" to them, causing so much strain they broke apart. Mom left before I was a year old, leaving my father in such a stupor he passed ownership over to his family: the Walters. More specifically, though, I've spent most of my life under the care of my auntie Shanice and her wife, Nia.

They never made me feel like an outcast or missing out on anything. To them, I might as well have been their daughter. It didn't mean that I remained an only child, though. On the contrary, when turning 7, I had evolved from a solo act to an almost sister-like figure to my baby cousin Darius. Those early memories get harder to recall by the day, though.

I only remember the broad strokes now. Darius' aimless proclamations made him look too big for his britches; Shanice's blunt movements made any challenge a nail. Perfectly balanced by Nia's serene personality that seemed to be the lightning rod that could hold all of us together. And in the middle was me, the same self-serious, ambitious, and loner woman I've always been.

I smiled without a worry in those days. Because back then, I wanted to heal instead of hurt. A spark developed during my late teens. Those days I felt like I could go anywhere, leaving me more frustrated over what path to walk towards. If I was going to spend most of my life working, I wanted to do something that could help people, something that could change lives.

My answer came soon enough, though, as one day, off some silly dare gone wrong, Darius took a nasty 20ft to fall from a tree. When we rushed him toward the hospital, the aunts and I were ready to start a riot there. Until one doctor, who I can't even remember the face of anymore, reassured us. His words held care and intelligence, reassuring us while he took care of Darius.

We stayed near the hospital round the clock to survey his condition, but I couldn't remove my eyes from the man, watching him work calmly and smoothly throughout the process. He had complete control over the situation, making an impact that could last a lifetime. After Darius's recovery, I knew what I wanted to do.

The events after fell through like dominos. I poured everything into studying essential medicine and becoming a doctor. However, I didn't exactly have the biggest financial opportunities, courtesy of being an African American living in a small town. This led me down a rabbit hole that had me enlist in the military at nineteen. I know it was a far stretch, but it provided the necessary support, I met the mental and physical requirements, and people needed me.

With teary-eyed goodbyes and heartwarming promises, I sent out to serve my country. Basic training was grueling, though, not as bad as saying goodbye to my family on my first tour of duty. If not for the river of tears shared amongst us, then certainly the location.

I've said travel wasn't a priority before, but guarding a nameless camp in the Arabain desert for six months was a limit. Thankfully, I could squeeze out some perks so long as I bent the rules. How once a week, I would sneak out at night to call my family on whatever hanging connection I could find. A stupid move, but I was always the sneaky type.

"I don't know if it was the poor connection or the disbelief, but you think you can repeat that?" I said while utterly astounded.

"I said I'm getting into law, Sarah, so I can bust you out of whatever trouble comes your way," my shrimp of a cousin Darius said.

"Hmph, that'll be the day."

"Oh, please, the only one who's ever going to need legal trouble in this family is you."

A line like that was par for the course in our usual ribbing, but I guess I struck a chord.

"I'm serious, Sarah. You don't know what will happen, especially if I'm not there."

Picking up on his true intentions, I got more serious.

"Hey, listen to me; I'll be fine, Darius. All I got to worry about was shade and how to ration my water. But if being a lawyer is something you want to do, then do it. I know you'll do great in it."

"Thanks, Sarah," Darius said excitedly before giving a near-infectious yawn.

"All right, with that little matter settled bed head. Leave the late-night dread to the adults," I replied.

'Fine, take care of yourself. Goodbye," he said before hanging up.

Immediately after he did, I got a shout that scared the crap out of me.

"And what do you think you're doing away from the base, Private?!"

A straight shiver shook my spine until I recognized the voice's owner.

"Please, like you ever cared about protocol Jasmine," I said casually.

"Hmm, got me there, but seeing you scared shitless for a second was worth it. Your peripheral vision sucks," she fired back.

"Oh, shut up," I say while sitting on a stone near me.

As I said before, this job did have perks—the biggest being something I always had in short supply: a friend. Despite being my superior three times over and about five years, my senior, Jasmine Lin, always had this down-to-earth vibe. It didn't matter where you put her. She would always stick to her own pace. Making even the most dreadful places look like Disneyland in comparison.

Jasmine and I remained quiet, taking in the scenery for a brief few seconds. The cold wind and shifting critters scuttering underneath the sand felt refreshing. The open moonlight showed off Jasmine's bright brown highlights tying into a bun, along with her petite frame and mischievous light brown eyes. After we soaked it in, we started to talk again.

"That was Darius, wasn't it? How is the little one?" she said dotingly.

"Yeah, he was just worried about me. Said he was going to bail me out once he becomes a lawyer," I said fancifully.

"Well, if that's the case, we gotta take him up on his offer. Because after this tour, you and I will drink like we got a problem."

"You can save the partying for someone else. I'd rather focus on heading home, even if it'll take forever," I sighed.

"That's why you got to focus on the party. Or any goal, Sarah, it makes time faster and less tough. Besides, there are worse places to be than here."

Jasmine's eyes then narrowed as if she were speaking from experience.

"Like what? Have any war stories to tell?"

Jasmine took the quote uncharacteristically seriously, wavering briefly before saying.

"None, I can tell you. Ooh, but I can tell you about the time I-"

Our conversation got immediately interrupted by a sound that shook both of us: a gunshot. The sound alone curled goosebumps across our skins as we approached the dark camp.

"Probably a snake or something that one of the guys saw."

Jasmine took it far more seriously, cocking back a Sig Sauer M17 before taking command.

"Sarah, stand back and get some cover. Now."

"But what about-"

"Now, Sarah!"

Utterly panicked, I complied, deciding to hide amongst the sand and hope for the best. Before moving in, Jasmine gave me one last reassuring look before saying.

"I'll be back soon, don't worry," she said before advancing in a center-axis relock position.

Despite her kind words, daggers of dread pierced through my composure. Leaving me so distracted that I didn't even dare notice another nameless figure behind me as soon as she left.

"Good, I thought she would never leave," a mysterious voice said.

I didn't even have time to turn around before getting clocked in the head through a pistol whip. Weeks of MMA got utterly wasted as I struggled to keep conscious. Through my blurred senses, I saw two male silhouettes over me. The one on the right raised a pistol, only for the man on his left to lower it as if I wasn't worth the effort.

The infuriating sentence was enough for me to struggle on, pouring whatever strength I had to get up. However, my twitching was only met with a brutal double axe handle punch to my skull. Leaving me to slump into slumber. Only to wake to the man that will be the first of many enemies. The man who struck first blood in a war that'll cost him everything.