The rather pathetic-looking man asked be one last time to help him on his final quest, his hand shaking and sliding in all directions. I'd say it was rather hilarious, but I lost my ability to laugh long ago. I was an earthling, a normal human, just like any other. I read web novels and worked in an office day and night. I had no idea of the potential I possessed, all I knew was my pathetic excuse of a stable environment. I don't know what I saw while stumbling like a fool in the wilderness that very day, though my view was distorted, like trying to see through a rather thin lens. I saw small, yet noticable bills that moved, pointing their pseudo limbs at something, like it was purposeful, like it mattered to them, like I might have a rase in freedom, like maybe my pathetic life would be something greater of matter if I followed where the marks were pointing. I was deeply wrong my decision backfiring somewhat deservingly. I would hate myself for it, but I've become so old, so experienced, so wise, to now know petty and hypocritical emotions are never necessary.
I was reincarnated, reborn, but everything looked weird. My foolish past-self could never notice the changes in her body, weight, and voice in an instant, though she screamed when she, I, found out. Days blurred by, my parents being that of the supernatural, demihumans praised for having lifespans ranging world alterations, surviving the blows of legends, and known as guardians to some, some who see young elves and nymphs as maidens who protect the forests, yet fail to realize they also, get tired, they also get bored, and, this, they also are affected by all emotions; happiness and excitement, yet also anger and fear, as well as frustration that could speak volumes, destroy mountains, dwarf everyone and make their mana supply look like infancy in comparison, become the villains they never sought their saviors to become. The so-called guardians had the power to destroy entire kingdom whenever enraged, some fufiled their anger, others resisted, but the outcome will always be the same in one way; they have a burden to carry on their shoulders.
As I grew in my new age of living, I sought what this world had to offer. Elves and demonoids age at the pace similar to a slug once reaching young adulthood, and then I analyze how their soul slowly disappears, the feeling in their heart fading, curiosity reduced to duties, emotions key to be human, shrinking, like a crunch that's pulling everything back inside the core, hidden from the body. Their passion disappears, hundreds of years feel like mere months in the calendar, their humanity, once prospering, fades away, piece by piece. I analyze how their, how her heart fades, how other's hearts break, how they think they're maintaining purity, but in reality, collapsing inside. The inside of them of dark and hollow like a shadow, the truth always coming out. They long for death. The truth can never be hidden, never in anyone's vision. I am Audrey Dragon, the demonoids that has been alive for twenty thousand years.