Dawn of Twilights Past

Chapter I

Karish stepped out of her room onto the balcony, high up on the farthest parapet of the castle, facing north into the morning sun and breeze. This was the standard, no good day started without a good morning.

“Good morning,” Karish thought to herself as she looked out over the horizon and savored the view of white-crested waves and salty sea mist in the distance. She had seen this very scene every day of her life. Since she was old enough to walk, her nanny had a terrible time keeping her off the balcony. She stepped back in, shivering slightly from the cool fingers of dawn running lightly over her slight but muscular body. She was wearing only a light pink-colored silk robe with jasmine flowers sewn intricately into the edging, which was becoming cool for this time of year. She quickly disrobed and pulled on loose natural brown leather breaches for the ride ahead. She added a soft white silk blouse with intricately carved buttons of exotic flowers. She pulled her black riding boots on, added a light blue sash to her waist, tossed her hair, put a comb through it and quickly braided it on her way out the door, down the steps and into the main part of the castle.

“Hi, Bow,” said Karish as she ruffled the hunting dog’s hair on her way by. He was sitting just outside the first floor landing on the rug. Bow was not all that old but he had seen a few years of hunting. He now let his offspring do the family hunts for fox while he slept wherever the sun afforded him a beautiful position on a rug here or a chair there throughout the castle, depending on what time of year it was. Bow wagged his tail in greeting as he had the hair on his head ruffled. When Karish rounded the corner and was out of sight, Bow laid his head back on the rug and was asleep in moments.

She crossed through the hall and took a quick turn into the feast hall, which sat over a thousand guests comfortably. Crystal hung from the ceiling in giant liquid raindrops, which gathered the morning light and scattered it against the walls. The walls were covered in tapestries generations old made by her great, great, great grandmother. They still held their lustrous blue, red, and gold color even after 100s of years of hanging on the walls. Quickly and quietly she padded through the dining hall into the kitchen, all the while absent-mindedly pulling a strand of hair from her face, never having noticed the beauty she left behind her.

“Food for first light,” Karish thought to herself as she moved through the halls toward the kitchens.

“Crystal, where is the way bread and the smoked meat you made last week,” asked Karish as she entered the kitchen.

“Mrs. K, you know I take care of your travel requirements. Now sit down and eat before you starve,” said Crystal, the family cook, as she laid out a daintily sliced meat and cheese platter with slivers of fruit on the side and continued making food for first light for the rest of the family.

“Thanks,” said Karish as she ravenously stuffed a piece of cheese into her mouth.

“Too many things need to be completed prior to leaving this morning,” Karish mumbled around a mouthful of food. Two gulps of milk to wash the food down and Karish was on the move again, quickly grabbing her travel bag full of goodies from the table she was sitting at and heading out the door.

“Slow down, Mrs. K, you’ll choke,” Crystal blurted out as she quickly picked up what was left of the meal that Karish didn’t eat. “Young woman, thinks she’s invincible,” muttered Crystal to Karish’s back and continued her venues.

Karish, swiftly, and silently made her way to her parents’ morning room. It overlooked the gardens in full bloom in the middle of the castle. She swept aside the light curtain, came out on the deck, quickly kissed her mother on the cheek. “Hi, it’s time for me to head out,” turned around to her father, gave him a quick hug and headed right back out just as quickly as she had come. Her mother and father stopped what they were doing momentarily, accepted their daughter’s affections, wished her good luck, watched her leave and were back to their conversation just moments later with not a worry on their mind. Long ago Karish had proven her stealth and skill when she needed to, she had been taught by the best in all arts. None would ever know how dangerous she was until they pitted themselves against her, and then it would be too late.

Karish slid through several hallways, located one of the many hidden doors in the castle and slipped through, closing the door behind her. After she went through two more hidden doors, she stopped, took a quick look around her, all was in place. She quickly traversed the space between the door she had exited and the door she needed to reach. This door had several locks that worked through sleight of hand to open, not one lock utilized the same trick to open, and not one lock could be opened if the lock was not created for that person. Karish reached out and touched the first lock, whiz click, the first lock slid open, and in order she touched two more locks; whiz click, whiz click. All three locks had withdrawn. She was going through the door before the third lock had completely withdrawn.

The Petry family had figured out long ago that they needed to do whatever it took to safeguard their family fortune against thieves and unsavory types. This meant that Karish was the sole manager of the family fortune. None knew where all the items of value were kept in the castle and surrounding countryside except her.

She stopped just inside the door and took a deep breath. The air smelled of spice from one of her previous trips to the desert. It made her feel heady. She didn’t always sell everything she purchased, some things she kept for her own pleasure. The room was large with no windows. Situated below the castle, underground, the placement kept the amount of moisture in the room perfect for her delicate wares.

Karish walked over to a large wooden table sitting against the far wall which easily took eight men to carry and was intricately hand carved with the Hunt by a race of people whose sole purpose in life was to carve the perfect masterpiece. Karish loved the table as much as she loved the story. Many a night her mother would tell her stories of the Hunt, about the woman and men in it. The Hunt was fabled to have occurred over two hundred thousand years ago. Anyone who could ride was called to the hunt. They rode tall, regal, elegant purebred hunting mounts meant for the Hunt. They raised only the finest hunting dogs for one purpose, the night of the full moon in the year of the Fox, when the fabled Fire Fox would return. Its eyes were said to burn like hot coal in a blacksmith’s oven, bright red with black specs; its fur looked the color of the perfect bonfire. Everything its paws touched withered as if no rain had fallen in months. The Hunt lasted from full moon to full moon. None ate, none drank, they only chased, for he who caught the Fox had fortunes untold. When the hunters thought they had finally cornered the fabled animal in a gaping chasm near the Gray Mountains, sheer rocky sides rose hundreds of feet in all directions, one lone fire sitting in the middle of the chasm, a hunter hidden behind it. The Fox never hesitated. It flung itself forward in a frenzy of energy toward the hunter and flame. Before the hunter could send an arrow flying, the fox leapt toward the fire, midway twisting in the air to take one final triumphant look at its pursuers just to vanish within the flames, never to be seen again.

Some say the fox would never be caught and would sacrifice itself first to the flame; others say it went home and would return the next night of the full moon in the year of the Fox. Oddly, the night of the full moon in the year of the Fox was coming up shortly.

Karish caressed the carved fox fondly. The wood under her hand was silky smooth and warm to the touch; the wood would never snag her skin or clothes. She looked at the items sitting on the table; soft burlap bags of spice; saddlebags perfectly packed with Aegis; crystal in hundreds of shapes, sizes, colors and quality. Paintings lined the walls and leaned against the table on the far left side, from the most famous artists that ever lived and some who are no longer. On the corner of the table several hummingbirds with emerald green and liquid blue bodies, each with a different colored head, sat in a cage large enough to hold hundreds of birds. Other items of value sat on the table, purchased during her travels and worth a fortune to the right person. She picked up the perfectly weighted saddlebag of Aegis. Hefting it over her left shoulder, since her right shoulder held her supplies for the trip, Karish strode back out the way she had come, being careful to verify that all items in the room remained in their designated positions and the door was thoroughly secured behind her.

Two minutes later she was saddling her horse, Whispering Wind, in the stables. She tossed one saddlebag over the saddle, tossed the bag of supplies over the other side of the saddle and flipped a leg over, mounting swiftly. Whispering Wind was bred from generations of the finest horses for line, style, beauty, intelligence, strength and the ability to travel at tremendous speeds for long periods of time. Easily 17 hands high and silver in color, she had quicksilver-colored mane, tail and hooves. She was easily one of the most beautiful horses ever bred. She had been trained to cut on a single word or flick of the hand, bred and trained by the best horse master that ever lived just for Karish and her esteemed profession. This was Karish’s mount and none would be able to control her except Karish; Whispering Wind was a warhorse for a lady.

“Valia, Saeran,” Karish mouthed the names silently to herself as she moved Whispering Wind out of the barn door and into the beautiful morning sun at a trot. She was in no hurry; her traveling companions were patient.

Whispering Wind whinnied excitedly, sidestepping out the castle gate. Karish placed her hand on the mare’s neck, “Easy, girl, save your energy for the long trip ahead.” This did little to stop the raw energy coming off the silver mare’s body as she danced down the road bustling with townsfolk selling their wares of instruments, books, fruit, meat, and cheese, with other miscellaneous indescribable foods from far-off lands mixed with the fruit grown locally. All the while the children played nearby, oblivious of the excitement of the markets.

Karish finally made it past the most active part of the markets and playing children into the residential area, an area that housed only those who could afford it or were married into it. Whispering Wind turned into one of the beautifully carved gates within the residential area.

“Hi, Valia,” Karish said with a warm smile, quickly dismounting Whispering Wind to give Valia an affectionate hug.

“Hi back at ya. What took you so long?” inquired Valia, returning Karish’s hug with an affectionate smile. She turned back to her mount, Gray Ghost, named so only because of his ability to quickly and silently disappear like a ghost during twilight, an animal bred with the same characteristics as Whispering Wind and a few more due to the nature of the owner.

“Ah, yes, no hurry, Karish, never in a hurry to get into trouble!!!” Valia winked and turned back around to finish putting her wares into Gray Ghost’s saddlebag for the long trip ahead.

“What do you mean by that?” sputtered Karish, “I take my time because I can and I don’t get into any trouble I can’t handle.” She rambled on knowing Valia had stopped listening about ten seconds ago.

"You ready to go?” asked Karish as she tied Whispering Wind’s leads next to Valia’s mount, Gray Ghost.

“In a moment, my mom wants to give us something that would supposedly keep us safe on our travels to the desert. I love the woman to death, but honestly, we probably don’t need to carry the extra weight of whatever it is she has on her mind to give us,” whined Valia as she sat down on a low wall that weaved throughout the grounds outlining key areas.

“Hi, Talia,” said Karish as Valia’s mother exited the side door of the house where Karish and Valia sat talking. She was a stunning woman but due to her nature you had to wonder what she truly looked like.

“Hi, Mom,” said Valia with a rueful grin.

“Thanks for waiting. I know you two think you’re invincible, but don’t disregard this old woman yet,” said Talia in a light musical voice. A slight look of concern flashed across her smooth ebony features to be replaced seconds later by a laughing smile, crystal clear eyes and a carefree stance.

“Valia, Karish, I brought these talismans back from our homeland on one of my last trips. They are called wings of warning. I want each of you to have one.”
Karish and Valia looked at each other doubtfully and then looked at the small silver dragonfly broach that had just been placed into their hands, thinking, “What could a small silver dragonfly broach do to help in times of danger that a sword couldn’t?”
Talia took a deep breath and continued talking in her musical voice. “This is a living creature created from the old magic, magic which is now generations gone. The dragonfly brought into this dimension upon command is alive and when told to, will scout any route for dangers untold and upon returning will make sure the safest path is taken. When its job is finished it returns to its own world and in this world it turns back into the broach each of you has in your hands.”

Valia and Karish smiled and thanked Talia with a huge hug for the gift and watched her walk back into the house. Talia was happy that she could help in any way without being intrusive.

“I guess she was really thinking of us when she purchased that gift. Do you know the amount of sacrifice given to own one of those,” Valia trailed off.

“Yes, let’s go,” said Karish as she mounted Whispering Wind. Valia was on Gray Ghost a moment later, moving down the path toward Saeran’s place. She lived a couple cobblestone roads away, down from Valia’s home, around the corner where the bakery stood. Whispering Wind and Gray Ghost nickered to each other on the way out the gate, eager to move.

It was still early morning when they rolled into Saeran’s place. Dressed in strange peach-colored sturdy cloth breaches with a matching blouse, she was considered the eccentric of the three companions, wearing what might have been considered the latest style but could have easily been a style that had been out of style for years. She was sipping a light yellow tea that filled the air with the sweet aroma of flowers and honey. Slices of bread, cheese and fruit were laid out like a banquet before her, more than she could have ever eaten in one day’s worth of eating, let alone one meal’s worth of eating.

“Valia, Karish, sit down, eat,” said Saeran, enthusiastically picking at a piece of fruit. She wasn’t really hungry; as usual, this was just for show.