• If good memories are the ones we hold on to, what are the bad ones? The ones we let go? My name is Eraglo Cientillo, Princess Eraglo Cientillo. I rule all of Scarland. Perfect life, perfect world, perfect kingdom, everything in my life was perfect, or so I thought. My life just took a wrong turn and ended up here. So many questions were running through my head. The memories, both good and bad, are still fresh in my mind. I hold on to both, because when you've lost everything, you grab what you can and hold on tight, that's my motto. I've lost so much; I don't even think I know who I am anymore.
    The Arcians started out as a race known as the Quisilains, they had their own galaxy, their own god, their own paradise, but all that changed. God went corrupt in his power and began to forsake them. The people were horrified. They began a war against God; angels, demons, Quisilains, everyone. Two angels were flying through to an armory, when they fell through a time-space hole, a rip in the fabric of time and ended up in a place called Gresca; on a little island they called Scarland, after the past war. The angels were stripped of all angelic positions and left with only wings and one ability each. They named themselves Arcians, as it was Quisilain for Cursed because that's what they were, cursed forever.
    In the beginning of my life, I always knew I was different. While everyone’s names meant something in Flail, the language of both Eternia and Gresca, Eraglo means lost in Quilsilian. So, I knew something was wrong with me. Also, while other’s wings were beautiful and ebony, mine were white, like a snowflake. I was always teased as a kid. I was often referred to as “the lost cause” or “Snowy” I never really fit in. Another shock from my childhood was, my mother died when I was but three years of age.
    It was mid-summer, before I was four. My birthday was but a week away, and my mother was going to give me flying lessons. We rushed outside of the palace walls and ran out to the field. My mother reminded me to pace myself.
    “Calm down Eraglo! Learning to fly takes patience, my child” She laughed.
    “But Mum, I want to learn now!” I squirmed. She bent down to my level and looked me in the eyes. Her beautiful Hazel eyes met mine and she laughed. She looked at the sky and, almost like a rocket, leaped into the air, where her wings popped open like a butterfly’s. My mother’s wings were huge grey blankets coating me in warmth every night.
    “My turn! My turn!” I yelled to her as I jumped but a few feet in the air and landed with a hard thud. My mother laughed. She landed ever so gracefully, and picked me up. She kissed my cheek, set me down on the ground, leaped into the air and began to soar again. Bang, Bang, Bang! The sound hurt my ears, but the most shocking part was to see my mother, as elegant and graceful as she was, fall rapidly towards the ground, not slowing or even moving just falling down and down. Thump that was the sound of my whole world dying. I lifted my mother’s body over my shoulders, leaped into the air and flew her home. Tears stung my eyes as I did so, like tiny wasps crawling into my eyes. My head hurt, I had just witnessed my mother get shot down, on our own property. Already I knew I was going to grow up angry and bloodthirsty.