Contact me directly: abebe_fola@brown.edu

Isaac Kim

Candidate for PhD in Spetnatz Martial Arts

I was the eighth child to be born into the noble house of BloodMist. I should have been named Lenfarnis BloodMist at the very least but no, this life was taken from me. My birth country, Salvanar, forbid the birth of eight children. Seven was the limit since the rebellion the eighth son had made on one of the kings ages past. Each family was allowed four boys and three girls. My family being of notable power and wealth was spared the ordeal of having me killed... as long as they wiped me out of their family logs and rejected my connection to them. I was to be sent to the orphanage to be brought up as a peasant. I wasn't. Instead my "family" took me as a "servant". I was treated worse than the dogs. I had to teach myself to read and write, how to hunt, and how to kill. When I was eight one of my four brothers died, stuck down in combat. But still I was denied my birthright. My mother was pregnant with my little "brother". The brat was given my birthright, my heritage, MY FAMILY. I was treated like dirt never knowing why. When I reached the age of seventeen I learned. I learned of my past. It was a slip of the tongue from my drunken eldest brother. I was enraged, but I concealed it. showing my intelligence had gotten me more than a few beatings before. When night had fallen I struck. I had slain my eldest brothers, and my three sisters before they knew what was happening. My mother, father, and my little brother, with three guards stood before me and my revenge. I quickly slew the guards. I have to admit BloodMists are the best swordsmen alive. My father being a sturdy man heading past his prime was still a difficult challenge, but they revealed their secrets to me. Their best moves, their fatal flaws, it's terrifying what one reveals to those they believe beneath them. I slew my father and the look of defeat on his face was one I will savor for eternity. I coldly dispatched my mother, but spared the scum I called a brother. He was only nine and no it wasn't some twisted morality that made me spare him. It was the fact that it would be so much more...enjoyable to kill him when he was older. I left him with the parting words, "Survive little brother, and maybe you'll avenge these deaths." I took some money and my fathers prized sword. A long sword with a silver sheen. The hilt had a diamond pommel and it was perfectly balanced. Only a BloodMist could wield it and it was the final nail in the coffin of my past when I didn't die touching it. I live as an adventure now and I hope to one day meet my little brother again....so I may finish what I started.