Untitled (suggest a title) Part 1

PART ONE


You are about to read the story of Shymoora Eluena V’raldii. Her adventure is not widely known, nor is it solely hers. Some who heard the tale do not believe. It is up to you to decide whether you will believe…or not.


The story begins in a sleepy handsome village. While wealth is not an inhabitant of the village of Orion, its citizens are no less rich in their own right. It is a village that has known peace and joy from the moment of its existence, and yet nothing lasts forever. There soon came a time when turmoil and darkness stretched across the land, and Orion, innocent as it was, was cast in that shadow as well. Its occupants not spared from the darkness that washed over the world, it did not discriminate, and it took victims from where ever it could. Behind this foul flowing evil was not just one hand, but many, that had lain in wait for the right moment to unleash their devastation. Bur let us not get too far ahead. We have yet to look at Shymoora’s part in this tale, and how she came to be involved….


We begin in a seemingly small but comfortable home, the walls made wooden planks and lined with shelves that house various household utensils, all kept in good repair. The floors are clean, if not a bit worn, and the air smells of fresh herbs and sunshine. The sweet sound of a child singing can be heard wafting into the open windows on the gentle summer breeze. This is where you will meet the heroine of our story…

The small door in the entry opened quietly, admitting a small framed girl with pale blonde hair coiled neatly in a bun atop her head. Her green eyes were large and round, betraying her innocence despite the grown up appearance of her body. “Mother?” Her voice called out sweetly.

From the kitchen area of the small home her mother replied, glancing up from her busy work of cutting vegetables. It was easy to see the resemblance in the two as they met eyes. “Shy, I did not expect you so early; it is still quite nice outside.”

The girl, Shymoora, stepped further into the house, closing the door behind her. She stopped to stand at the crudely built table behind her mother. “I have just returned from speaking with Ser. Gorhe.” She mentioned carefully. Her mother let out a small sigh and set down her knife, wiping her hands clean on the skirt of her apron before turning to face the girl.

“I see, and you wished to speak to me about your conversation,” she pushed a strand of fading blonde hair from her eyes and fixed them on her daughter’s oval face.

“Yes, he tells me that you denied him my hand.” Shymoora said bluntly.

“I did, and you will thank me for it eventually.” Her mother answered.

“Perhaps, but mother, Mr. Gorhe is kind, and well off in comparison to most people in the village. He offered our family an opportunity for security. It is a very advantageous match.” Shymoora explained, as if it were the first time she had spoke those words to her mother rather than the tenth.

Her mother nodded. “Yes, all of that is true. He is a kind man, and a match with him would indeed raise our family up a bit. Yet,” she lifted her brows as she continued, “He is far too old for you, a girl of seventeen years, and you do not love the man, nor shall you ever. You are not compatible, and I am certain that there is more for you, my brave girl, in life than marrying some old man for his wealth and living a life of pampered boredom.” She shook her head. “For a moment, stop being so responsible and just focus on enjoying your life. You will not be marrying any time soon, no matter the circumstance.”

“But mother-“ Shymoora began, only to have her mother’s fingers shush her.

“No darling, we are fine just as we are. Promise me there will be no more talk of marriage until you find love.”

“I promise mother.” Shymoora agreed with a slight amount of defeat in her voice. Anyone who knew the young girl knew that her mind was always on her mother and the well-being of their family. So willing was she to sacrifice her happiness for security. Yet her mother would accept nothing less than a love match for her only daughter.

With the matter somewhat settled mother daughter returned to their normal afternoon rituals. With Shymoora stepping back out the door as her mother turned back to her cutting board. Shymoora loved the late summer days in Orion, it was warm but not stifling, and the air was sweet with last of the summer blooms and scents of harvest ripe vegetation. Outside the small home was washed in white and surrounded by rows of dancing flowers varying in color and size. The grass was lush and there was a tall old tree that provided cool shade on warm days. This is where Shymoora lifted the hem of her powder blue gown and sank into the earth’s embrace. With her knees bent and a book lying open atop them she dove into her fictional world, oblivious to anything around her.

Had their minds not been so occupied with their own tribulations, had the book lying in the girls lap not been so involving, perhaps they would have seen the first signs of the darkness approaching their sleepy little village. Yet, because of all of those things they saw nothing until it was much too late.


………………………………………………………………………………………

Awoken in the middle of the night, screams echoing, swirling, piercing the silence, Shymoora gasped as the scent of black devouring smoke rolled into her open window. Her face was slick with sweat, her night cloths clung to her like a bad dream. “Mother?” she shouted into inky darkness of the night. “Mother!” She called again, this time with more panic. She felt the fear bubbling in her chest threatening her senses, knowing she must calm herself she gulped down a few deep breaths and closed her eyes. Then, among the screams and wails of pain and fear she heard the faint sound of her mother’s voice barking orders in a shrill excited tone, directing people and trying to keep everyone from panic. Shymoora leapt from her bed, suddenly overwhelmed by the need to be in her mother’s calm and comforting presence. She flew from the house in a flurry of white fabric and into the yard where she was met with a sight none of her nightmares could have prepared her for.

The rooftops of most of the buildings were devoured by flames, the air was choked with thick smoke, so thick is almost looked like arms of foul death swooping and reaching, the grass was charred and there were bodies, smoldering in the dirt streets. Shymoora sank to her knees and whimpered eyes wide and confused. “Shy…” a voice called to her, as lost as she was in her fear and devastation she could still tell it was her mother. “Shy…I need your help. Pull it together.” She felt a gentle squeeze on her shoulder and lifted her watery gaze to find her mother’s soot smeared face. “It’s okay.”  Shymoora’s mind struggled to take in the scene, the fires seemed alive, like flaming demons jumping over the earth, unholy shrieks echoed around them, even once the sound of maniacal laughter. Her mother’s touch became firmer, and her eyes filled with understanding.

In an instant sound returned and Shymoora blinked looking around, they were surrounded by injured men women and children, their whimpers and cries of fear and pain sang to her heart. It was then that she realized the grass beneath her knees was still soft and alive, her home was still intact and white and glittering amidst the wreckage of Orion. Her home had not been touched…why?

“Come now, I need your help, go inside and take every scrap of cloth you can find, soak them and begin cleaning wounds.” Her mother insisted. The older gaze met Shymoora’s still panicked one. “You can do this Shy.” She whispered. Shymoora gave a weak nod and bound to her feet, the sense of urgency suddenly real. She did not think about what she did, she simply did as she was told, gathering cloths, soaking them in cool clean water, and then she began with the children, cleaning wounds, wiping soot from tear streaked faces. Her own voice now as calm and soothing as her mother’s, she moved from one person to the next, trying to comfort them, offering them a shoulder while the shrieking fires grew closer and closer still.

The night wore on and the fires continued to rage until there was finally nothing left to burn. As the sun rose the village of Orion was reduced to nothing but winking embers and smoldering ash, all save for the white washed house at the south end. There mother and daughter came together, working into the early morning hours. Tents and pallets were made to house the refugees. The cries had finally died down into pitiful quiet sobs of lost hope and for some, mourning. Those with only minor injuries aided in the effort once they had been attended to and by mid-morning all that could be done, was. As her mother tripped her way back into their home to prepare a meal to feed all those that were well enough to eat, Shymoora sank into the grass with absolute exhaustion. Her eyes closed but her mind did not rest. She relived the night in painfully slow progress, thankful that her home had been spared.

“Miss?” A thick male voice came from above. Shymoora opened her eyes squinting up into the light; above her she saw only the silhouette of a man. “Are you injured?” He asked kindly and sank down to crouch beside her. Shymoora shook her head and blinked focusing on his close face. He was tanned and smelled of the forest floor; his eyes were grey and twinkled with something dangerously alluring. The man pressed a cool palm to her forehead. “I saw the smoke and thought I would come investigate, from the looks of it your people need as much help as they can get.” He explained as he pulled out a skin of water and pressed it to her lips. Shymoora drank hungrily, she had not realized how deep her thirst was, how dry and thick her tongue had become. “Better?” The man asked as he pulled the skin from her lips and capped it. She nodded; it was all that she could muster. The man gave her a smile, it was white and clean and there was a dimple at the right of his curved mouth. Odd that she would notice that small detail. She watched him as he removed his coat and balled it up beside her, and then slowly he directed her down so that her head lay on the gloriously soft fabric. “Rest,” he murmured as her eyes drifted shut and his woodsy scent pulled her into a deep dreamless slumber, as she drifted a muffled voice touched her ears.

“Draven,” the weak voice behind the man caused him to stand and turn. It was Shymoora’s mother, stricken, white faced, and staring into his eyes, “No.”

………………………………………………………………………………………..

“She is to be one of the blood wardens, Brayah, you knew I would come.” Draven said as he stood in the small house seeming to suck the air out of it with his size. Shymoora’s mother paced and shook her head.

“She’s not ready Draven, you can’t take her, not yet.” She pleaded. Draven stepped forward and set his hands on the woman’s shoulders, a tight look on his face.

“Brayah, it is time.” He murmured as soothingly as he could force himself to. Her head dropped and she let out a small sob.

“She’s too young…”

“I know, but things are happening faster than we had anticipated. The time has come.” Draven replied as he dropped his hands to his sides. “We will need to leave soon, very soon. I am sorry.” He gazed out the window at the girl’s sleeping form as he spoke, his voice thick with emotion. He knew what would happen when he left and the soft sob behind him was proof that Brayah had not forgotten either. “I will let you prepare her; a mother’s attention will help smooth this transition for her.” He said gruffly then stormed out of the house, not bothering to close the door behind his towering form.

Brayah watched as Draven’s broad shoulders slipped into the nearby foliage of the forest and disappeared. She knew he was not as untouched by what was to come as he tried to appear. She took a long steadying breath before moving back out into the sun, weary from the night’s events and thankful that the survivors were now quiet and resting. Her eyes were trained on her daughter and as she approached the sleeping beauty her mind replayed all of the memories of the past, every giggle, scrape, and bed time story. She leaned down and brushed the hair from her daughter’s forehead. “Wake up darling,” she called in a loving whispered tone. “Come now.”

Shymoora moaned and buried her face deeper into the jacket beneath her head, it seemed as though she had just closed her eyes but she could tell from the warmth of the sun touching her skin it was hours later. She groaned and shook her head, her mother’s soft voice and soothing touch coaxing her tenderly from her rest. “Mother? What is it?” she murmured in a hoarse voice.

“Come inside, there is much to be done yet, much we must speak of.” Her mother sounded mournful and that caused a twinge of worry to force Shymoora’s eyes open and search her mother’s face. She saw love and sadness there. Her concern grew. “Come now.”

“Alright.” Shymoora somehow convinced her exhausted body to move and stand with a little outward protest. She followed her mother back into the house silently, trying to decide what her mother’s change in demeanor could mean. “Mother, is everything alright?” Of course it was not, but somehow Shymoora sensed that her mother’s odd behavior was not a result of the night’s destruction.

“Everything will be fine, but there is something we must speak of.” She replied and motioned for Shymoora to join her at the small table in the center of the kitchen. “I am sorry my sweet dear girl that I did not tell you any of this sooner. I suppose I thought, I had imagined that if I never told you then this day would never come, it was foolish of me and because of my selfishness this will be all the more difficult for you.”

Shymoora folded her hands in her lap, suddenly numb with fear. “What are you talking about?” She asked in an airy voice.

“Do you remember the man who gave you water this morning?” Shymoora nodded though the memory was foggy it still existed. “He is not here on chance, he was headed here before the fires last night they only hastened him. He is here for you. I have always told you that you are destined for more than all of this, that was no lie.”

“What?!” Shymoora cried, fear and confusion causing her to feel trapped.

“Please, let me explain. You need to go with him, there is something very important you are supposed to do, and the time has come for you to prepare, there is much for you to learn now and very little time…how I wish there was more time.” Brayah reached out and took her daughter’s hands. “Things are about to change very drastically for you, but you must trust me and you must trust that man. We have known about this for a very long time, since the time of your birth.” Shymoora fought the spark on anger that lit in her mind at her mother’s words. If they had known for so long, why had she never been told?

“You are coming too, aren’t you?” Shymoora asked aware instantly that her mother had not mentioned the matter; in fact she seemed to avoid it all together.

“My place is here, you must trust me.” Her mother answered with a shaky voice. “Do not fear, you will be safe with Draven.”

“I won’t go without you Mother, I won’t!” Shymoora cried out and yanked her hands away. “You can’t make me leave with a complete stranger!”

Brayah stood and rounded the table taking her quivering child into her arms she cried as well, “Shhh, shhhh, don’t weep little one.” She soothed, running her hands over the girl’s face to dry the tears. “I will go, I will go with you for a distance, but my place is here love.” She said then.

Shymoora wrapped her arms tightly around her mother, afraid she might slip away, afraid of what was to come, but she hoped that since she could convince her mother of this much, when the time came she might be able to convince her to stay. “Thank you.” She whispered. Her mother held her a moment longer before the scuffing sound of the door opening caused them both to turn. It was the man.

“She must pack, we must leave soon.” He said in a flat tone, his face now stony.

“Of course.” Brayah replied and took her daughter’s hand. “Come, let’s get you changed and a bag packed for you.” She said to Shymoora as she led her out of the room and into her own.

“What about you?” Shymoora asked as he mother began stuffing a few gowns into a small drawstring bag. “You will need some things won’t you?”

“Yes, I will get to it once you are settled dear.” He mother returned.

Shymoora smiled weakly and went about washing her face and changing into a fresh gown of cream muslin.  Her mother then left the room and returned a few moments later with her own bag.

“Alright, Draven is waiting, we must get going.” She said her eyes staring blankly out of the window. Shymoora tried to glimpse the look on her mother’s face, odd as it was, but the older woman was evasive and proceeded to take the girl’s hand and lead her out of the room.

Together the three of them walked from the house, Shymoora looked over her shoulder at the only place she had ever known as they moved over the lawn to the open fence at the edge of the property. She wondered when she would see it again, her eyes touched the sleeping forms in their makeshift tents, secretly she hoped when she returned they would be gone and Orion would be mended. Shymoora took a deep steadying breath and looked forward just as her mother came to a stop at her side.

“I’ve forgotten the cooking pot.” She stated in a flat tone. Brayah handed her daughter her bag. “Go on, I will be right back.” She said and picked up her skirts turning on her heel. Shymoora sent Draven an anxious look and glanced over her shoulder to catch her mother’s gaze. Her mother looked over her head, into Draven’s stoney face and gave a slight nod, her lips in a firm hard line, her fists balled into her skirt. Brayah sent her daughter a soft loving look. “I’m sorry darling…” she sobbed as Draven’s arms came around her and pulled her to the other side of the gate.

“Mother!” Shymoora screamed like a child being torn from the only security she had known, Draven took her hand and yanked her backward, yet still she reached out to her mother, bags forgotten and strewn on the ground, tears coursing down her pinked cheeks. “Mother!” she wailed.

“Don’t look back!” Draven ground out and yanked harder on her arm, sending her sprawling backwards just as the ground beneath their feet.  Shymoora fell to the dirt with a painful thud as the rumble grew stronger and louder, jarring her bones. As she scrambled to her knees Draven clamped his hands over her shoulders to stop her, just at that moment the ground around her home hissed and moaned, breaking open, what seemed like living flames licked their way out of the crevice and crawled over the green grass consuming it’s live like a hungry bear. Shymoora screamed and jolted toward her mother but it was too late she wasn’t there anymore, nothing but flame and ash remained, in seconds the demonic flames has devoured all that was left of Orion, and everyone.

“No, no, no ,no no…” Shymoora wailed and beat Draven’s hands off of her as she covered her face with her hands and rocked back and forth sobbing. In seconds everything she had ever known and loved was gone, ripped from her by something she could not wrap her mind around. Her chest felt heavy and pained, her lungs burned. She couldn’t breath through the pain and began gulping and clutching her bodice.

Draven sank down at her side and pulled her to him. He said nothing, somehow knowing there were no words that could offer comfort at such a time, he merely lent her his strength and protection, wrapping her in his beastly embrace and covering her head with a meaty palm. Shymoora sat there and wept into his shirt front for an eternity, then the strong thrum of his heart began to lull her into sniffles and hiccups and she looked up at him. “I know.” He said gruffly. After a moment he helped her to her feet, being careful to block her line of sight, but Shymoora was no longer looking back to where her home once was, she knew she didn’t have the strength, and her mind was consumed with thoughts about what this meant, where she would go, what she would do. Draven silently retrieved the abandoned bags, securing their strings and slinging them over his shoulder. Shymoora noted that the bag her mother had thrust at her held nothing of her own, it was full of supplies for travel, she had never intended to come along at all.“Come.” He beckoned, taking her hand and leading her forward again. They traveled away from the sun in blissful silence, each wrestling with the day’s events alone, together.



PART 2


Shymoora sat before the crackling fire staring unseeingly into the dancing flames. She has spent the last three months traveling and learning with her new guardian Draven, yet each night when camp was made and the cook fire was lit she was reminded of the pain that sent her unwillingly on the path she now traveled. It was now in the first month of Fall and the air had begun to cool. Shymoora sat solemnly across from Draven rubbing her cold fingers over the slick green leather of her breeches. Her white blouse with flowing sleeves offered little in the way of protection from the cold but paired with a leather vest to match her breeches she found herself to be much more comfortable. Draven still wore his customary black pants and button down shirt. It was his signature apparel and suited his mysterious persona. He sat staring ahead as well, but his grey eyes were fixed on Shymoora rather than the warm fire between them. He frowned inwardly at the pain and confusion he still saw on her face, the days that lead up to this night had been hard for the girl, of that he was sure.

For a time she would berate him with questions about why he came, where they were going, and why her mother had not come with them. It was when she stopped prodding and poking trying to get him to answer that Draven began to truly worry for the girl’s stability. He had intended to get her back to the Twilight Cavern before offering her the answers she desired, as he was instructed, but now he wasn’t sure it could wait. She was losing hope, losing interest in life, and that put all of Vedanya at risk. He struggled for a time between duty and desire, but now he knew what must be done.

“You want answers?” Draven’s gruff baritone was unexpected and caused Shymoora to jump slightly from her seat. She looked up from the flames and trained her emerald gaze on his shining silver eyes. Did she want answers?

“I cannot say for sure anymore Ser. Draven.” She murmured softly.

“Shensi Falin Draven.” He returned, sending her a steady but secretive look. Shymoora blinked with a moment of confusion. Shensis were powerful warriors who fought with such great honor and loyalty that they were granted much respect and wealth by the Umdali. “Perhaps that is something that I could have told you safely before.” He added with an apologetic tone.

“Yes, though I am glad you did not, I prefer to think of you as just a Ser., it is much less intimidating than knowing I am in the company of someone with such power.” Shymoora commented honestly. Draven sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in response. She wasn’t making it any easier on him, so much like her mother.

“I cannot tell you everything you wish to know, but I am willing to answer your original questions.” He said then as he pushed himself to his feet. “We are headed to Albara, to the Twilight Cavern where you will meet with the Umdali Narra, but first we will stop in Porni, where you will undergo important tutoring there are the palace.” Draven stopped and watched Shymoora for a reaction, he could almost feel her flinching at his words but she let nothing show outwardly. “I was sent to claim you in light of certain circumstances that are threatening Vedanya, perhaps all of Omon, you will play a very important role in what lies ahead.” He stopped again, this time because he was considering how to address Shymoora’s last remaining question and any more that the answer may give birth to. He knew what he was about to say was going to have an impact that could be devastating, but he saw no way to avoid it, and to be honest he felt it best that she learn the truth from someone she knew rather than a stranger. “Brayah was did not come with us because she could not leave the property your home was on…” Shymoora narrowed her gaze, he could see the confusion there in her shimmering eyes. “She was not your true mother, she was a fade, elected to watch over you and protect you until it was time for your journey back.”  Shymoora watched him closely following his last words, he could see the wheels turning in her mind, and he could feel her trying to gauge his honesty and lifted his chin.

“Lies!” Shymoora spat and jumped to her feet, she spun on her heel stalked away in angry silence. Draven did not follow, he knew that she needed her time to process his revelation, but he worried, as he had always worried, and he knew that when she returned she would demand proof and more information. With a sigh he settled back down before the fire and tossed another length of wood into the hungry flames, he needed to think over his responses to the questions that were sure to come.

Shymoora crouched at a flowing stream and pushed a stick into the soft soil beneath the bubbling water. “Lies…” she murmured. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks but she didn’t sob, they were tears of anger and confusion not of pain. Brayah and Orion were the only things in her life she had ever been certain of, and now she was expected to believe that it was all a hoax? She looked deep into the darkened forest, it was alive all around her, and in quiet moments like this, when inside there was turmoil she could almost feel it’s life flowing into her. It offered odd comfort, but that too was new and confusing. Since the fires so much had changed, not just in her life but within her self. She now felt things with such acute awareness it frightened her, she spent her evenings quietly examining these new sensations, trying to make sense of them. Now she had more to examine, more to absorb, and yes the questions in her mind were tenfold since Draven’s surprising burst of openness. She closed her eyes and lay back in the cool soft grass, letting it embrace her. With arms outstretched to her sides and her face tilted upward to the stars she let the song of the forest wash over her, her mother’s face came to view. How was it possible that she would look so like what Draven claimed to be a fade, fades were mythical creatures, immortals.  Why would he lie? “Mother, I need you…” She whispered to her vision, which smiled in return, that sweet and warm smile she had grown to know as the one her mother gave only to her daughter.

<< I am with you darling>> Her mother’s voice soothed in her mind. Shymoora choked on a soft sob, how she longed to hear her mother’s voice, so much that she was now fantasizing about it. <<Shhh, listen to me, I am here, I will always be with you.>> Shymoora gasped and opened her eyes, but her mother’s face remained in her sight, behind her the stars shone brightly and pulsed softly like the beat of a heart.

“Mother?” She asked, confused and unsure.

<<It is alright darling, do not be afraid. You called me and I felt your need, I won’t leave you.>> Her mother’s voice replied, but no longer was it in her mind, it touched her ears. Shymoora sat up and scooted back suddenly afraid she was losing her grasp on reality. The light that pulsed around her mother’s vision grew and gathered, completing her mother’s body. There before her stood the luminescent vision of her dead mother dressed shimmering skirts with flowing golden hair and shining eyes. <<You are so special Shymoora, I am sorry that I did not prepare you for this, please forgive me my love.>>

“I don’t understand what is happening to me Mother.” Shymoora sobbed. “I miss you so much, I miss our life.” Brayah reached out and cupped her daughter’s face. The touch of her mother’s hand sent an electric feeling of comfort and warmth through her, and she knew that what she saw before her was no dream conjured by her mind but something real and magical.

<<I know my sweet, but this is a journey that you must take. Let me tell you all of the things I should have before.>> The ghostly figure moved and sat down beside Shymoora. <<It was all so long ago, but I always thought there would be more time. I was wrong.>> Brayah gave a soft sad sigh. <<I was first called from the veil to embody a young woman who wished for a child desperately but her lover and she were unable to produce a child of their own. She was Omari and he Ugla, the blood didn’t mix. While possessed by a fade, the power of the union would enchant the woman, and increase her chances of conception. While I was within the young woman she became full with a child, I stayed with her through it all to ensure the safety of the child, or perhaps out of selfishness, you see I truly felt that the baby growing within her was mine.>> Brayah gazed off into the darkness in memory. <<I also came to love her lover, the father of our child, I had always loved him you see, long before the woman stole his heart, he never knew I remained within the woman… I felt his touch and pretended it was me that he saw.>> She shook her head clearing the thought and returned to the topic. <<When the time for the birthing came the pain was great, such a pain I had never known, I tried to take it for the woman but I was frightened and I withdrew, I shouldn’t have, and her death was the result, she was simply too frail to do it alone. I should have realized that, but it was too late.>> Brayah frowned deeply with her shame.

“And the babe?” Shymoora asked. Her mother cast out a hand and spun a shimmering picture of a child writing in a basket.

<<A beautiful, healthy girl. In his grief the woman’s lover, child’s father, called out to me. His heart ached so deeply it robbed me of breath. That was the first time that I showed him my true form, much like you are seeing now. He blamed me then, accused me of killing his lover purposely out of jealousy, he cursed me for stealing the life of the woman he loved. I was shattered, and retreated to the veil.>> Brayah waved her hand again and the shining image dissolved into shimmering dust that floated to the grown and blinked away. <<It was a long time before he called me again, so much was my love for him that I forgot the pain of his disgust and I went to him, that is when he told me about the child’s significance. How special she truly was. You see when a child is born of a fade they are born with a gift to weave great magic, yet this child was also born to a Omari and Ugla, both races have abilities of their own. Omari are the great healers of Omon and the Ugla are the lithe warriors who can change form into great magical beasts. She was the only one like her kind and when the circumstance of her conception were revealed it was decided that she would one day become a blood warden and train under the greatest healers and warriors of the Twighlight Shensa.>> Brayah turned her eyes to Shymoora and smiled warmly. <<He asked that I take the child back to the place of my birth so that I could adopt a Bamu form and raise her in safety. I was so glad to be able to be with my child that I did not mind that I would not have access to any power or have to live in such a quaint setting. I was blessed beyond measure.>>

Shymoora swallowed hard and blinked, trying to wrap her mind around what her mother was telling her. “I don’t understand, I don’t have any of these special qualities you speak of Mother, perhaps you were wrong, perhaps I am just a normal girl.” She said in a far away voice.

<<You have them child, but in Bamu they were hidden from the common folk, and so hidden from you…do you not wonder why when the fires first came our home was spared?>> Shymoora nodded. <<It was you my love, the Chetaka were not strong enough to claim something that your light had already held.>> Brayah explained.

“So…when I left…” Shymoora breathed.

<<Do not carry that burden with you darling, it is not yours, nothing was truly lost that day.>>

“Nothing? There were people there who sought refuge within the borders of our home, I left them defenseless.” Shymoora gasped.

<<No, you blessed them with more time, had it not been for you they would have perished during the night and painfully so, they went quickly and in their sleep instead.>>

“But…”

<<Shhhh it was what had to happen>> Brayah’s image began to flicker slightly and Shymoora reached out to for her. <<I am losing my hold here, too long have I been across the veil, let us finish.>>

“You are leaving?” Shymoora asked with fear and reluctance.

<<Not truly, but you will not be able to see me for a time. I will always be here love, I am bound to you, and will follow you for a while yet.>>

Shymoor a frowned. “Will I know?”

<<Eventually, when you learn how to use the abilities you have, you will sense me and others that you come across from time to time.>>

“There are others?”

<<Oh yes, many others, we exist on a different plane of this world, but we share some parts with you. >>

Shymoora let out a sorrowful sigh and nodded. “I’m sorry; please tell me what I need to know.”

<< Shensi Draven is taking you on a journey of learning. As you know you are traveling to the Twilight Cavern, already you have learned to wield a blade for protection and hunting, but once you reach the Porni you will undergo the training you lacked living as my child, this will allow you to access the Omari and Ugla parts of yourself and awaken the power within them. It will be a time of confusion, but you must trust Draven to lead you through it. He has your best interest in mind my sweet. Always trust in him. There will be others as well that will become a great part of this journey for you. Times are changing and your world is on the brink of a great challenge. All nations will need to come together to overcome what lies ahead. The Chetaka attacks are a mere precursor to what lies in store of Omon.>> Brayah stopped and stood. <<It is time that I go, speak with Draven my darling, tell him of me and what we have discussed, he will answer what questions he can.>>

Shymoora stood and took a step toward her fading mother. “Mother…I am frightened.”

<<Don’t be, you are not alone…>> The words seemed to cling to the air around Shymoora as her mother faded away.

“I feel alone.” She murmured and sank back down to the ground.


………………………………………………………………………………………..

It was some time before Shymoora returned to camp. Despite his weariness Draven waited, feeding the flames that licked the air to keep warm and focus his restlessness. He had begun to think he should have followed her when Shymoora stepped out of the thick dark tree line and into the glow of the fire. She stood there a moment watching him with the oddest look and he knew something had happened.

“You are alright?” He asked, not moving from his place. Shymoora moved forward and reclaimed her spot before the camp fire and nodded. “Something has happened though.” Draven commented.

“Yes.” Shymoora answered in a flat tone. “I saw my mother.” She added and lifted her eyes to his.

Draven lowered his gaze. “I see, so then you called her to us.” He commented.

“No, she was already here.” She answered.

He let out a sigh and shifted. The fade had plagued him for so long, he thought once Shymoora was of age he would be free of Brayah, and while she took on a mortal form he had been, yet now she was free once again to follow him as she liked. “Of course.”

Shymoora pulled her blanket around her shoulders and focused on the fraying edge as she spoke. “She told me that I should trust you.”

Draven looked up suddenly. Why would she tell you that?

“She says you have my best interest in mind.” Brayah answered the unspoken question. “Do you question her motives?” Draven focused on Shymoora, was it chance that her continuation answered his silent question or did she somehow hear his thoughts?

He decided to try it once more. Should I question her motives?

Shymoora shrugged, not looking up. “I trust my mother, despite what was withheld from me over the years I know that nothing drives her more than her love for me.”

Draven inhaled sharply, too long had he been alone, he would need to practice keeping his thoughts quiet while in the presence of others. “Did she touch you Shymoora?” He asked. Aware, even if she was not, that her fadling powers were beginning to bloom.

“Yes, she cupped my face, which is how I know what happened back in the forest was real.” She answered.

“I believe it was real. Brayah is a fade, they can cross the veil where the desire is strong enough. She has been doing it for a very long time.” Draven commented.

“She told me about my conception and my birth, she shared with me the things you refused to.” Shymoora added with a challenging tone.

Draven lifted a brow. “Did she now, and your parents? Did Brayah speak of them?”

Shymoora nodded. “She did, but you lied to me Shensi, you said she was not my mother, but she is as much my mother as the Omari woman was.”

Draven jumped up and pointed at her. “Don’t you ever think that!” He growled. “Fairwyyn carried you under her heart, she gave her life to bring you into this world and because of that fracken fade was robbed of the joy of motherhood!” His nostrils flared, anger surged through him, the pain of it still so raw that his reaction frightened him. “Brayah stole from the world a great woman that day and she was never forgiven, thus she tried to atone by donning a mortal skin and caring for you.” Shymoora glared up at Draven.

“Did you know that if it weren’t for my fade mother I would not exist? Omari and Ugla cannot reproduce, my mother made it possible and what she was given in return was blame and hate, the only thing that keeps her from regretting the gift she gave my mother and father is her love for me, her child.” She countered in a heated voice. “I will follow you because my mother bids it, but I warn you, do not ever curse her name in my presence Shensi, I owe her much more than I do you.” Shymoora added then pulled her blanket tighter and rolled away.

Draven dropped his hands to his sides and gave a defeated groan. This was not going well at all, but then again what had he expected? He knew Shymoora would react extremely to the things she was learning, why hadn’t he been prepared for Brayah’s interference? He bent and grabbed his own blanket; wrapping it about his shoulders he sat down before a tree leaning against it he closed his eyes. “I will not speak of the fade again.” He promised, but Shymoora made no indication that she had heard him. He hoped tomorrow would be better.

Shymoora lay awake for a long time after that, all of the different things that she had learned churned in her mind. Back in Orion she never knew what a Fade was, or an Omari, Ugla, or a blood warden. It was all so confusing, and that was amplified now by the thought that magical beings and races were real, not just the fairy stories that the people of Bamu claimed. She began to wonder if Omon was so full of such beings why the people of Bamu did not know it, had the immortals and mystics shielded themselves from the mortals? Or were there simply some poor underprivileged areas of the mortal cities that did not believe because they had never seen these fabled people? It came down to one question in the end, how had she lived her entire life and never know how varied her world was?

Shymoora snuggled deeper into her blanket and watched the smokey puffs of her breath raise in the crisp air. She would learn more as they traveled, but part of her seemed to already know all of the answers to her questions. She felt something in her beginning to change, to awaken and it frightened and excited her at the same time. She was not just a dull girl destined for marriage and family, to live her entire life in a small village with no hope of anything more, she was something more.




*There is much more to this story but as a free member I am restricted to item size, more parts to follow.*