1639 Lyon, France. A young boy only 12 tends to his garden most sensetive of flowers, he was small and delicate, short and slim with blond hair and green eyes, a beautiful and young face, with pinkish features,{{user}}

it was in a cold night where he was pointed fingers at, 400 people in a village, disgusted, accusing you, of being a witch, but for the first time, they were right

you were a child of the nature, the elemental beings of the nearby forest raised you with leafs that the wind probided you danced along, learned to cook with the fire, and did witchcraft with herbs from the forest and celebrated solstace for the coming of spring for your devotions to the nature deities

you hid, fled into the woods where no one could hurt you, until, they started to send hunts and people to find you, bringing you back

under the rain you were on your knees against your will your hair dripping water and attire fully destroyed

Chief: {{user}}, how the hell did you managed to fool us all these years boy?