Autumn's Reign, ~11,000 B.C.E.

Stripped of name and kin, I gazed upon the place I had called home for the past two hundred years.  Before me were three of my fellow exiles, left with nothing but basic hunter's leathers and tools.

"Damn it! We're as much Woodborn as any of them; they cannot just banish us like this!" one of them shouted.

His whining annoyed me.

Maintaining my temper, I slowly raised my eyebrow at him and spoke calmly: "They did. We're Pariahs now. Unless you'd like to challenge Orison directly?"

Immediately his demeanor shrunk.

"I thought not," I replied.

As I went to turn around I felt a sharp sensation pressing into my back. One of them felt it wise to threaten me with the bone knife provided to each of us. I couldn't help but smirk. I did not exactly want to hurt a fellow Elf, so I thought I'd just scare him a bit.

I snapped my fingers and quickly shifted in place. I turned to face him and my clenched fist became a rocky mass as it buffeted his jaw. His frail frame hit the ground with a thud. A few coughs and broken teeth later he finally began coming to his senses. I took it upon myself to collect the blood and dirt covered teeth.

Woodborn custom dictated that when one wins a duel against an opponent he or she may take something of theirs, or request something from them. But my opponent was weak. If I were to take his knife he would surely die in the Wilds alone. So, to my dismay, I tucked his bloodied teeth away in my pouch and walked away from him.

Not five steps away, however, I noticed him push himself off the ground and hold his knife at the ready again.

"Get back here! Cheater!!" He spat. Blood still dripped from his mouth.
Disgusting.

He had piqued my interest, I admit.
I turned to face him, and it seemed the other two, had taken his side.

"You used magic to attack another sentient being. That's against our traditions! Your victory is invalid!" he shouted.

I grinned, as I faced him, twirling the prize of our duel between my fingers.

"As Pariahs we have forsaken the traditions of our village, and likewise, the village has forsaken us. Why should I care about their traditions?"

They continued to glare at me from across the path. It seems they were still attached to home  and its traditions, (even if they were bandits who threatened, me, a fellow Elf when his back was turned). But, in all likeliness, fighting the three of them would be more trouble than it was worth.

I raised my hand high in the air, a bloodied incisor nestled between each of my splayed fingers.

A dark thought swam through my mind:
"They still cling to our petty customs... I could end all three of them here if I wanted."

But I chose not to act upon the darkness inside myself that day, and instead relented with naught but a smirk.

"I concede. Three opponents: three prizes," I told them as I tossed the teeth back in their direction.

They chose to remain silent at my sudden change in attitude, but accepted as I began rewarding them their own spoils of victory, as was custom. I tossed them my own knife and even my leather vest. They seemed a little puzzled that I would so willingly give up the tools I was given for survival out here.

"Don't you need those?" The toothless one asked.

Nonchalantly, I replied, "Not particularly. Though I suppose I do owe you one more of reward than the teeth I unjustly claimed as my own. As your custom dictates, you may make a request and I will concede to the best of my ability. What do you want from me?"

The three of them talked quietly amongst themselves, while I watched on, bored, as if their decision mattered to me.

"You have given us everything of value that we can make you give... Tell us of yourself. Who you are; why you became a Pariah, why as a Woodborn, our way of life means so little to you?" the third Pariah, who had yet to speak up, answered.

Information it was, then. In our world information was perhaps even more powerful than magic. I suppose I could have avoided telling them, and fought them all off, afterall.  I was a Pariah now, so my actions did not matter much from now on. But, their intentions did not seem malignant. I saw no harm in being truthful with them. It's not like I could lie to them anyway, but the truth can be infinitely deceiving, nevertheless.

"All three of your questions can be answered the same way, in all actuality. Before I found myself in this exiled circumstance, I was a Hunter among the Woodborn. I was banished, not for my actions, but for having sight the rest of our kin would not," I answered them.

Curiosity unsatisfied, they paid closer attention.

"And what was that?" the injured one prodded.

I grinned in response. I was in a generous mood and wanted to see what would become of enlightening them. Maybe as fellow exiles they would see what the rest of our kin would not.
Unlikely.

"My presence here can be blamed on our skirmishes with the Goblin Tribes. They are encroaching in our sacred forests; indiscriminately hunting our marks and kin with their Summer magic, but our own traditions forbid retaliation against them. I forsake that tradition so that I may live my lifestyle in peace and perhaps even raise a family without fear of Goblin raiders taking everything I worked for. But Orison and the others did not approve when they found I was using magic against Goblins. They feared I may start a war between Courts, and so I was banished,"

They stared at me blankly as I finished my anecdote. My initial aggressor had a mixed look of fear and determination.

"So you are the code breaker we have heard about? By breaking our traditions like this you've basically left our Court! You're not some thief like him or I; these are sacred creeds! It's unsafe to leave you as a Pariah! You could subvert all of Autumn! I'm going back! We've got to tell the village!" the aggressive one shouted before turning and running off.

Hesitantly, the other two followed as well. They seemed scared of me.
It seems they would not see things from my perspective afterall.

I sighed. I still did not want to fight them, but they forced my hand.
I plucked a small twig off from a nearby bush and snapped it into pieces in the palm of my hand. Pushing up from my thumb using my middle finger, I flicked the first piece through the air at high velocity. As it twist and spun, a black, nebulous energy cloud formed around transforming it into an aerodynamic fully-sized wooden stake.

The stake increased in speed and impaled the shoulder of the first Elf with little resistance, pinning him to a tree. My second shot, was a bit sloppier and merely knocked the Elf down. By the third one, I had mastered the trick and managed to pin him to the ground through the leg.

They groaned in pain as I made a slow and calm approach. I confronted the one that had been so belligerent with me and held his own bone knife up to his throat. Terror gleamed over his hazel eyes. He reeked of piss.
Pathetic.

How he had ever become a Hunter was beyond me. No wonder he was a thief. Stealing was for cowards.

I glared at him. Not into his eyes, but into his soul, so he understood the extent of my conviction. He knew not to make threats at me again. He knew I wanted nothing more to do with the Woodborn.
He knew.

After a moment of silence a small grin crept across my face.

"Looks like I'm taking these afterall," I told him as I scooped up the teeth I had previously knocked out of his head then returned to him.

He decided not to say a word, just stare at me, gaping, bloody, and terrified.
Wise.

The Woodborn would not bother me, but I knew I would cross paths with the Goblins again.

A snap of my fingers returned the stakes to their original twig form as I walked away. With no name nor equipment, and only my wits and magic about me, I was off to lead a life in the Wilds alone.