The Dawnclad - Changeling

  From the moment she was born, Ania Straka knew she was Ania Straka.

  She knew, but she didn’t understand. She was a problem child. Ragtha, as her parents called her, spent her first years screaming constantly, as if in a state of perpetual fear and confusion. And she was. Her infant brain could not comprehend the memories it carried, only that it did not belong here. It was trapped in a vessel that was not its own, with no idea of how it had got there.

  As she grew into a small child, she became known for her wild imagination. She came to know herself, her soul. She had been reborn from somewhere else. When she told her parents that she was Ania, not Ragtha, they hit her. Her tribe told her tales of the World That Was, and the four Gods and their Everchosen who had purged it of its wickedness. Ania knew as soon as she heard the stories that this was where she was from, that she was a traveller from a different time. And though the tribe never spoke the Gods’ names, she knew one of them. Tzeentch. She told them, and that was the first time she was beaten within an inch of her life.

  After that, she learned not to speak.

  As an adolescent, Ania was quiet, reserved, and studious. As her tribe moved, following the armies of their Gods - whose names they did not deserve to speak, she had learned - she grasped at every piece of knowledge she could find. Books were stolen away, artifacts hidden, and dying words stolen from those left behind. Anything that could be salvaged from the wastes, and knowledge that could be gleaned, she hoarded, all the while stealing and killing to keep herself alive. Life in the lands claimed by Chaos was cruel, and she had to adapt to survive, and all this came to her instinctively, like she had done it before. She did not want to live like this forever. There had to be something better.

  She learned of this world from outside, and of the last one from within. Her books told her of the Age of Chaos, and her memories told her of the End Times. She learned about how Chaos had come to this world, bringing untold suffering and turmoil, and how Sigmar, the great betrayer, had left the land behind and shut the gates of Azyrheim, leaving her ancestors to the mercy of daemons and worse. For generations her people had been forced to survive by any means necessary, while the lucky few hid behind blessed walls and lived a life of comfort. And now His armies took to the field, to slaughter those who He had left with no choice pledge allegiance to the forces He had fled from.

  She remembered growing up in the World That Was, an orphan abandoned by her parents, sold to a noble house to work in servitude. She remembered that then, too, she had desired change, and had sought knowledge. She had poured over the restricted area of her owner’s library, discovering forbidden knowledge.

  She remembered summoning a daemon. She remembered making a pact with Tzeentch. They had both wanted change. She had wanted freedom. He had wanted a leader. So Ania pledged her soul to him on these terms.

  Then Tzeentch, along with the other Gods, had destroyed the world. He had plucked her soul from her body as the army of sisters she had built was erased. He had betrayed her. And now he had brought her back, placing her not in a life of servitude, but a life of duress and survivalism.  She knew she had been a fool to make a deal with the Great Conspirator, that her rebirth was obviously intended to serve his purposes. But still, her heart yearned for revenge. She wanted her side of the deal paid.

  As an adult in this new world, this new body, Ania had retraced her previous life. She gathered her knowledge and prepared to face Tzeentch once again. And she made the same pact again. Servitude for power, for change, for freedom.

  This time, she would not make the same mistakes. She would not trust the greatest lying mouth of all time. She would be smarter, stronger, and she would not stop until she had built a place where her people could be free. Free from Sigmar, free from Chaos, free from their life of struggle and suffering.

  And now, as she stood upon her floating daemon and gazed over her warband, Ania Straka made the only promise she would ever make - to herself. That she would not waste this second chance that her God had been foolish enough to grant her.

  "Sisters. Sigmar’s faithful come to purge us, for the crime of surviving where we should have perished. They call us the Slaves to Darkness. Today, and forevermore, we will prove we are no slaves. Not to darkness, not to light, not to any God or man. I have granted you power, but it is in your own hands to control it, to control your own fate. Forward! For yourselves! For freedom!”