A Name of My Own

“I didn't name you, so you can be whatever you want.”
“Really?” the little girl asked. “Well... then I want to be a Xanthia, too.”
Xanthia laughed – a high pitched and yet mahogany giggle. “Well... if you want to be a Xanthia, you're going to have to work so hard to be stronger than I am, and destroy me to take that name from me. Not that you ever will be able to. You half-breeds are weak. All of you. Always will be,” she said, casually, ignoring the hurt expression of the child. “Good bye, Xanthia-in-training,” she chortled before disappearing off into the night.

"I'm here for my name, bitch."