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So.. This is a prologue of the book I'm writing. No title yet xD

What I mostly remember from that foggy night I turned seven was my parents being killed right in front of my very own eyes. I never expected something like that to ever happen to us, to me. Especially when I became the only survivor from Ikra Village. There were too many of them that entered the village. Our guards couldn’t stop them even if they tried. The villagers fought back, but it was hopeless. I had high hopes, knowing that we’d make it though this danger, but it all crumpled away. Only seeing the white blade pierce my father in the back and my mother having her neck sliced with the exact blade.
My father had hidden me in the secret room that was below the floorboards. The only way you could ever notice it is if you knew it was there. I didn’t shed a single tear as my parents were killed in front of me. All I could do was stare at the man in white who ordered my parents death. His face will never blur out of my mind. He was burned in my mind like a cross. His smugged face then ordered to destroy the entire village. There was no chance for us to win this battle.
The memories still haunt me to this day. Watching my parents deaths over and over again. The villagers bodies being burned, the grotesque smell, the village burned to ashes. The man in white always grinning .
Nine years have passed and I still wake up sweaty and my heart beating intensely. I was taken in by a man who was a bounty hunter. He began training me to be a bounty hunter the day after I had explained to him what had happened to me in Ikra village. He knew exactly what I wanted before I realized what I wanted for myself.
Revenge.