Moon Guardian - J. V. Lisa (year 7 reading list TXT) 📗

Moon Guardian

By J.V. Lisa
Hi, my name is Liza Kiyuki-Smith my friends call me Izzy or just Iz. You might be thinking, “Well that’s a weird name,” but don’t worry I’ll explain later. I live in feudal Japan, which explains my fist last name. I look like your typical Japanese seventeen years old; actually I’m just about the spitting image of my mother, except for two physical features that are kind of hard to miss. First my hair is golden, instead of the usual black of brown, and my eyes are a dark blue-green, instead of brown. Those I owe entirely to my dad. So now you’re probably scratching you head trying to figure this one out, as you’ve already guessed my dad, no was not Japanese, he was European, or so I’m told, this also helps my second last name of Smith, he also helped with my first.
My parents met on the battlefield—romantic huh—he had been injured when he was trying to help a family escape from the battle between two rival villages. What was he doing there? Your guess is as good as mine, but he was there. My mother found him and took him in. She patcheds him up good as new. She said he was very hansom and very different, other then the obvious differences she said that he was actually very respectful too. After he was healed she couldn’t get rid of him, he would always find a reason to see her. One of my favorite stories was when he got a splinter in his finger. He claimed it was so painful and that my mother was the only person who could get it out pain free. I would always laugh at the way she played him. Later on, of course, they fell in love. They wanted to get married but my grandfather would not allow it. He absolutely forbade her from seeing him. Thankfully that didn’t keep them apart, and they ended up running away together. They were together for about three or four years before my mother became pregnant with me. Then, the day I was born, my father was killed by raiders. My mother named me Liza. She said it was my father’s idea. But enough history for now this is my story, my legacy. My journey to find my destiny begins the day my whole world came crashing down.
About a year ago, when I was sixteen years old, I was outside in the woods, getting into trouble. You know things boys should be doing—yes I’m one of those tomboys which sometimes, in this era, could get you killed—when it happened. A group of raiders attacked my village. When I heard screaming and yelling I ran back home to see what was going on. When I got to my house I found my mother lying on the floor in a pool of blood. I shook her shoulders and yelled for her to wake up, but it was no use she was already dead. (I can still remember her blood staining my clothes.) As I stared at her body, horror struck, I noticed something clutched in her hands. I opened her hand and found her necklace and a note. I carefully unfolded the note and read.
My Dear Little One,
I’m sorry to say that I am most likely dead. A group of raiders came while you were out, but I guess you already knew that. I don’t have much time, I want you take my necklace, it should bring you luck. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to tell you everything that I should have, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to. There is something you need to know about yourself but I can’t risk writing it in case someone else finds this letter before you do. When you turn seventeen you will understand. Now Go! Please remember I love you, dearly, and I’ll always be with you. Run now and be safe.
I took the note and the necklace and held them close to my heart. Outside I heard the raiders shouting to check the houses again. I quickly tied the necklace snuggly to my neck and tucked away the note. I didn’t hear anyone walk up behind me, I had no idea they were there until I felt him grab me by the back of my collar, and drug me outside. I started thrashing and kicking until I finally landed one on his knee. He released my collar and fell over, landing on his side cursing to whole time. I scrambled around trying to find my feet again but, a hard boot came down on my back pinning me to the ground. It was then I finally got a look at what had become of my village. Thick black smoke came from some of the rooftops, strange men were carrying armfuls of valuables from the houses, and the ground, the ground was stained red with blood. The blood of all those I had ever known. I felt sick looking at it, I had to turn away. I looked at the ground in front of me. I saw a pair of old black boots in front of me. I followed the form upwards until I met a man’s face. I avoided looking at his eyes; it was disrespectful for a woman to look a man in the eye, though why I was showing him respect I don’t know. I mean he was the one responsible for all the death in my village. The boot came off my back.
“Stand up!” The man commanded. I did so looking strait ahead at his armor. It was old, very tattered stained with the blood of my townsman.
“Look at me woman” He commanded, “I want to see your face.”
Once again I did so still not looking at his eyes. He circled me starring intently, studying me, with his arms crossed in front of his thick chest and one hand holding his chin. He came around to face me again his stare had changes slightly to amazement. His eyes flickered from my hair to my eyes and back again. He took a step towards me, my body tensed but I did not move. His hand extended out to touch my hair, I didn’t flinch only my eyes flicked to his hand. He caught my glare and dropped his hand back to his side. I soon regretted it as his hard hand hit the side of my face. He hit me so hard it sent my sprawling across the ground. I rolled a few times, when I came to a stop I shook off the dizziness and stood. He took a few paces towards me, and my eyes betrayed me as I glared at him again. He stopped in front of me. I cringed slightly, thinking he was going to hit me again, but he didn’t, he simply stared. I caught sight of my reflection in his armor. My hair had red stains from blood I had picked up from the ground. I saw my face, it surprised me, my features were usually soft and gentle, but they were hard this time, my expression was fierce and murderous. My eyes were like two blue flames of rage, ready to make someone burst into flames at will. —I wished they could—I almost scared myself with my eyes, I had never seen them this way before. “That must be why he dropped his hand earlier” I thought to myself. He suddenly grabbed my medium sized neck in his large hands jerking my head forward and my chin up. He stared at my eyes, but I didn’t meet his gaze (The whole respect thing, I still didn’t understand it.) Instead I looked over his left shoulder at the handle of a large sword. I studied his sword for a few seconds, the handle had a very elegant and beautiful design with a few small, sparkling gemstones scattered about it. I could tell, by the sheer design, that it wasn’t rightfully his. He had most likely stole it from another village.
“Look at me!” He commanded startling me. My eyes slowly drifted to his face. His face was dirty, scarred, and hairy. His eyes were a muddy brown with a hard and malevolent expression, but with a hint of joy. I saw his mouth it curled into a devilish grin as his eyes traced down my body. This sent a hot rage though my body and of course my eyes. Then my brain-mouth filter failed to kick in.
“What are you smiling at?” I hissed, I couldn’t believe the way my voice sounded. I had never heard that tone come from my mouth before. His grin faded but his eyes were still amused, and once again I was flying through the air crashing down with a thud. I failed to roll this time, so all the force of hitting the hard ground radiated through my body forcing a grunt from my mouth. I tried to stand again, but then felt a sharp cold object at my throat. My body froze but my eyes wondered up the man’s elegant sword at my throat. I starred at the sword then at the man’s face, his mouth again curled into a grin as he tilted the blade back and fourth. He was most likely trying to find the best angle in which to kill me.
“Stand” he commanded, moving his sword from my neck a few inches. I rose, still watching his blade as it stayed close to my throat. When I stood straight he touched his blade to my throat again. He watched my reaction., I simply looked down at the blade, then back to his face.
“Are you going to kill me or just wave your sword around?” I blurted out almost impatiently. He looked at me astonished, then his grin widened. He looked to the man behind me.
“I like this one. She’s wild and unbroken,” He glanced at me then back to his man. “I will enjoy breaking that spirit of hers.” His eyes were dark and malicious. I heard a footstep behind me. Something hard hit the back of my head then, everything went black. My guess would be that one of the men hit me with the pommel of his sword.
I woke up about a little while later tied up in the back of a wagon. Luckily I was very good with knots, and was able to untie myself with ease. I looked around the wagon. I saw many familiar objects that were stolen from the various people in my village. I peeked out the back, and much to my dismay, my captor was right behind the wagon.
“Darn!” I whispered. “No escaping that way.” I sat down by a pile of crates trying to collect myself. I starred down at my blood stained clothes, my mind raced back to my village and my mother’s cold, lifeless body. I suddenly remembered about her necklace and note. I quickly checked for them, to my relief, they were still there. After a couple seconds I suddenly became aware of the fact that I was in pain. I felt the back of my head, and sure enough there was a very large, and tender bump there.
“Ouch” I said to myself, gently rubbing the back of my head. My hand drifted to my cheek, it was slightly swollen and sore, but not nearly as bad as my head.
“Thank goodness I have a high pain tolerance, I have a feeling I’m going to need it.” I thought to myself. I started thinking about what happened before I was knocked unconscious. What