Name: Kylara Kuhn (KoS Name: Jasmine)
Age (if you have any): 23
Your group/occupation/level: Prey/Slave - but can be Bedouin too
Brief background story of your character: Jasmine was born 23 years ago in the loving care of her mother, somewhere in a country far north from where she is in her present days. As long as she can remember there was always her mother and her 2 year older sister Kylara that she always shortened to "Kyla".
Kyla and Jasmine were inseparable even if looking different. Kyla was black haired, fair skinned, with a small but distinctive tear-shaped mole on her left shoulder and with the blue eyes of her mother. Jasmine was all the same except for her totally blond hair. Their mother had told them that after her husband died, she had had a short affair with a noble that promised her the world but left her with Jasmine. Then again... Jasmine was always made to feel by her mother and older sis that the world revolved around her. So in a twisted way the noble kept his promise.
Often as Jas and Kyla wandered beneath the silvery light of the stars, she thought that, for the time being, they were as happy as mortals could be. Young sisterly love knit the air in a charmed silver mist around them. And often they trod the wave-washed shore, always with their eyes turned towards the future.
Thus while the years slid fluidly by and Jasmine dreamed about the green fresh verdure of existence, she was softly put to sleep by the sweetest voice of a siren. Poor, naive and trusting girl she was. She could not see how hard the bridge was rocking upon which her feet rested. How slippery and unsubstantial was the flowery slope on which she stood? There she rested, basking in the soft glow of her happiness, together with her sister. Yet, she did not see the clouds, dark and charged with thunder that rose up quickly to bide the stars from her view
Shortly after her 16th birthday, out of nowhere, when the family had just gone to bed, three men, sweaty and smelly but heavily armed, bust through the door of the small room they were in. Kyla and Jas were quickly tied up while their mother was stripped and ready to be raped by two of them when she suddenly and totally unexpected saw her chance: She picked up a forgotten knife and without thinking twice, buried it to its hilt in one of the men's chest.
Rage replaced the euphoric feelings the other two must have had, which sealed her mother's fate. With a simple thrust of a sword, her mother's fight was over. Jasmine and Kyla looked in shock and were not able to do anything but stare as their mother's life quickly fled her.
It would not be the last time they saw the colour of death.
Truly, death is like a thief in the night. With it's still, feline tread, it entered their chambers and stole their mother's breath away without any warning of it's coming!
Shortly after, Jasmine and Kyla were separated. It would be the last time Jasmine ever saw her sister alive. She was sold in slavery, way south to where she had grown up, becoming one of the girls in a foreign warlord's harem. He did not care for her age and pleads not to touch her. He couldn't even understand her but still made her his favourite. Jasmine was nothing more than a slave there though, the older women in the harem jealous and her Master cruel and cold.
After an exceptional cruel treatment one night, she was laying next to him, softly sobbing so he would not hear it. There she saw a small bended dagger on a stool on which he had thrown his clothes before raping her. She remembered her mother's action which led to her death, vividly . Then again, death was not unwelcome to her at that time as life without freedom seemed unthinkable.
As in a dream, completely detached from herself she reached out for it; she didn't even have to stand up. Slowly turning to her Master, she looked at him for some minutes. She might not have had the courage to go on with it if one thing would have been different: He lay there with his face towards her. The arrogant features were clearly visible, the satisfied grin on his face still there. It was too much for Jasmine and with one, fairly supple move, she cut his throat. The grin disappeared instantly. Jasmine watched calmly while he was holding his throat and gasped for air, air that was not his to claim anymore. Without much of a sound he died.
Only then it was that Jasmine realised what she had done, realised that a fate worse than death would be hers if she stayed so she slipped out of his room, not even looking at the two guards. They were not surprised when a slavegirl left his quarters. As long as nobody complained from within her Master's chambers, they would not hinder anybody coming out.
She was somehow able to get away, something she thought about doing numerous times, but never dared to, fleeing into the desert without even thinking if she actually could escape. More dead than alive, she was picked up by a tribe of Bedouins that took her into their camp. Yes, she had to work there but she was never made to feel a slave again.
Then there came a day when the Bedouins were at the beautiful city Ireem that rumours reached her that a black haired girl with blue eyes had been killed by a slaver. She left the camp and went investigating. Horrified she was there when a body was recovered somewhere from a beach near Ireem. She stepped to it and almost fainted when the body had no head and a small tear-shaped mole that Jasmine knew all too well.
Whenever Jasmine hears the word slave or slaver, she is not able to help herself and goes almost crazy with an inner rage. The word "slaver" is used by herself too but from her mouth it sounds like an insult...