"Living here my entire life? I can't take it anymore here!" Lynx's voice quivered as she tried to flee, but her body remained still, refusing to budge, “Let me get the fuck out of this shit!”

A lump formed in her throat as she struggled to suppress memories she wished to forget. "No! No! I... I don't…”

***

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"Hmm... do whatever tickles your fancy," The dragon disappeared with a dangerously hated look, leaving everyone scratching their heads and wondering what mischief it was up to. 

"Wait!" Lynx called out to the mythical creature, but her plea was met with a haunting silence, enveloping her in an eerie shroud of darkness.

After what seemed like an eternity, As hours passed away, consumed by her own melancholic thoughts, the dragon reappeared before her, its expression oddly neutral. 

As she stood there, facing the enigmatic creature, a flood of memories and emotions surged within her, triggering a poignant storm of despair and self-loathing. 

Lynx couldn't bear to remember the moments that had shattered her spirit, the weight of existence that had fueled her disdain for life, humanity, and ultimately, for herself. 

Each memory felt like a dagger, piercing her already wounded soul, the reasons for her deep-seated resentment and sorrow in a haunting reel of painful recollections. 

Each thought, each regret, and each heartache coalesced into a suffocating cloud of desolation, encompassing her in a cuddle of misery. 

"Very well, Notify me when you feel prepared. I assure you, there will be a brief moment of discomfort, perhaps lingering for hours. Yet in return, you shall gain unwavering resolution and willpower," The dragon assessed Lynx's resolve from some unseen vantage point, mildly taken aback by her swift decision-making, yet again, in this current existence.

"A-A-Are you going to show me everything?" Lynx asked with a grief-stricken face. 

"Nope; Only a select few scenes that have inflicted the deepest pain upon you!" The dragon responded evenly.

(If only I had power and could kill this son of Bitch with his whole generation.) Clutching her jaw tightly, Lynx glared at the dragon with a seething loathing, wishing ill upon the creature and its descendants for generations. 

Unmoved by her animosity, the dragon paid no heed to her venomous words.

"I wish you nothing but damnation... Do what you must to fulfill the task," Lynx exhaled deeply, steeling herself for the impending ordeal. 

In her own unique style, she will face and go through challenges with a touch of diplomacy, pushing the boundaries of her patience and resolve.

A glacial gleam danced in her eyes, signifying a whirlwind of conclusions within her mind.

While the aftermath might carry a tinge of melancholy, she stood firm like an unyielding warrior and stealthy ninja. 

“Good, It's time for you to accept your past.” With a haste motion, the dragon flashed a grin and gestured, transforming the setting to reveal Lynx's former abode.

As the scenery shifted to a quaint village setting, Lynx half-expected a cinematic display to unfold before her eyes. Alas, reality was far from her expectations once again. 

To ensure she wasn't dreaming, Lynx gave herself a gentle pinch before seeing some next awaiting image.

"Eh!... W-Why did I start to feel pain?" In a moment of bewildering pain, Lynx's punch collided with her own abdomen, checking if she was in hallucinations, a miserable try to awaken from what seemed like a surreal nightmare. Yet, the harsh reality persisted, refusing to yield to her doubts.

A sudden apparition materialized before Lynx's eyes - a young girl of five, adorned with silver locks cascading like moonlight, eyes reflecting a depth beyond her years, clad in tattered garments blending seamlessly with the dust of neglect.

The child bore the marks of suffering - scratches, bruises, and wounds painting a grim tableau upon her fragile form, crimson trails marrying the purity of her once-white kimono. Despite her pitiful state, she exuded a resilience that defied her destitution.

As the poignant scene unfolded before her, tears welled in Lynx's eyes. The realization struck her with a force akin to a thunderclap - this forsaken child was none other than a spectral echo of her own innocence. 

In that moment of clarity, Lynx understood the haunting truth behind the girl's battered visage.

Lynx's heart ached as she saw the plight of her younger self, pleading for sustenance amidst a sea of indifference.

With tear-streaked cheeks and a voice trembling with fear, the innocent child, no older than five, stretched out her tiny hands towards a stranger, seeking food or something in the form of nourishment. 

"Please..." A faint whisper carried across the barren expanse, its timidity belied by the raw urgency underlying each syllable.

Five-year-old Lynx knelt before a stranger, her small frame shaking with dejection, yet hope still flickered in her wide, moonlit-blue eyes.

Her plea for food met with nothing but deafening silence; the man before her merely glanced down at her, then continued onward without a second glance. 

Undisturbed by her entreaties, he left her to fend for herself, abandoning her to the cruelty of fate.

Lynx's knees buckled beneath her, sending her tumbling onto the rocky terrain below. 

—boohoo! 

—sob sob!

Tears streamed freely down her face, muddying the dirt beneath her. She tried to stand, but her limbs felt heavy, weighed down by the burden of hopelessness.

Meanwhile, a lone canid watched from afar, its tail twitching nervously as it observed the human drama before its eyes. 

Its instincts urged it forward, yet some invisible barrier prevented it from dashing the distraught child or perhaps he was feared. 

—woof! —woof!

But… Instead, it let loose a mournful wail, adding to the song of misery surrounding Lynx.

In response, the child's shoulders slumped further, her spirit broken more under the weight of rejection of someone else. 

She lay there, defeated, unable to explain the cruelty of the world that surrounded her.

Lost in a world of confusion and devastation, Lynx found herself grappling with a struggle she could not comprehend. 

Her gaze drifted towards a nearby family, where a mother lovingly cradled her child, offering sweet solace in the form of ice cream.

—borborygmus!

A pang of hunger gnawed at Lynx's stomach. The ache intensified as she longed for even a morsel to quell the emptiness within. 

Yet, in a world where mercy seemed reserved for the privileged, her silent pleas fell on deaf ears.

Tears welled in her eyes, wetting down her cheeks in silent streams of anguish. Each sob echoed the depths of her longing, a poignant symphony of unmet needs and unspoken desires. 

The weight of her isolation bore down upon her fragile frame, suffusing her with a profound sense of desolation.

As she wept, the divide between her reality and the warmth of familial love grew ever wider, leaving her adrift in a sea of unrelenting sorrow. 

In that moment of vulnerability, she yearned for the simple comfort of sustenance and compassion, yet she was cast aside by the world that seemed indifferent to her suffering.

 

In the days of yore, Lynx was engulfed by disdainful and nasty gazes, shunned and discarded like an insignificant, unwanted object. 

People averted their eyes, deeming her no more than a forlorn outcast in the eyes of society, as if she were nothing more than a desolate swine undeserving of care or consideration. 

The weight of their collective judgment bore down on her, each individual harboring their own motivations for casting her aside.

Lynx's genesis was marred by the misdeeds of her birth parents, who were entangled in nefarious activities, engaging in acts of theft and looting. 

Consequently, their lives were taken by another hand when Lynx was a mere four years old, leaving her utterly alone amidst the tumult of loss, choas and ensued.

Adding insult to injury, the children of others sought entertainment in tormenting her, pelting her with stones whenever her presence crossed their line of sight, All in the cruel mockery they showed her.

In those formative years, Lynx had been immersed in a wellspring of tears, weeping until no more remained within her eyes, bereft of even a modicum of encouragement from anyone in her immediate surroundings. 

Concepts such as parents, family, and love were foreign and unattainable to her. 

Yet at the tender age of seven, the Shade Family extended their hand, though their motivations remained obscured by a veil of uncertainty, in so doing effectively adopting her into their clan.