Killing Banshees ran deep in my blood. I was born on a ship infested with the screamers and my first wails drowned out theirs. My first kill was at age seven after spying one washing the armor of my father. He lost sight in his right eye that day, but he lived and would continue to live until the Old Ravages came to take him away.
I almost didn't catch the Banshee that had been sent for me. A fierce battle raged all around. My focus was on the King and the King's men. I slew the Banshee come for the King and turned just in time to see the one for me. She held my armor in her hands, her wails piercing through my skull as the blood ran free.
The wailing stopped briefly and her hands paused. Though blind, she knew I saw her. She began again as I started for her, my sword at ready.
One swipe took her head from her neck and she and my armor disappeared. I returned to battle, my life protected until the Old Ravages came to take me away.