Unikra: Revenge

CHAPTER 1









Dreamy night

Ocifer



                “Ocifer what is wrong”? I heard Guierdrea whisper from across the room. She walked quietly across the sod floor and sat on the side of my bed. Her tiny figure lithe in the soft light of a half moon hanging just outside the window. A half smile of assurance was visibly painted on her round baby face. I’m not sure what caught my attention first when I met her; her - well cared for - long dark brown hair, or her bluish-green eyes. She was perfectly formed in every way. I adored her. Only a few months younger than I, she remained a part of Ezika’s household, even though tradition would have her married, or at least betrothed by this age.

                I studied her silently.

The brown flaxen gown she wore carried a strong aroma; Sweet golden peaches and the purple wild flowers that grew high on the hill near her parent’s home. The scent reminded me of a time a few nights before when she came to me in the dark of night.  We had snuck out of her father’s house to pick flowers. Under near dark of the moon, we had wondered the hillside hand in hand.

I guess the aroma lingered.

                I rose to a sitting position to see her better. I wanted to make sure her brothers had not awakened. Her younger brother, Gredin, slept on the east side of the room, right in front of the door. Gredin - much like his sister and mother, Dahlia - had a round baby face with petite features. Her older brother slept on the other side of the room. He had more abrupt and sharp features, like his father, Ezika. I found they both still slept.

                “Nothing, I’m fine,” I quickly answered in a muffled whisper that only she would hear.

                I should be over this dream by now, (it’s been ten years). Then again… when your family is killed, and everything is taken from you. Maybe I would be crazy if I didn’t have nightmares about that horrifying event. I held my private memories separate from Guierdrea. I didn’t yet want her to know.

                Either way, Guierdrea instinctively knew when something was wrong. I half expected her to mention my anxiety before. The dream had been coming to me for the last few weeks. The same dream, every night. The dreams always came to me as the cold of fall came to the Jormen province. But I’d only been here since spring so she couldn’t have known what I’d never shared with her.

                “Are you sure? This had been going on for weeks.”

                Her words reflected my thoughts.

                “Do you want to talk about it?” She continued.

                “I-I don’t err,” why did she have to ask? Wasn’t getting this behind me punishment enough? “M-maybe tomorrow.”

                “You know, I haven’t heard the whole story yet.” She moved long dark hair off her shoulder with her fingers. “Father didn’t want me to ask you about your past, but I’m just so curious.” her persistence, the one thing about her I could live without.

                “Tomorrow,” I told her, “When I’m thinking.”

If I’m lucky we’ll both forget tonight ever happened. But even if we didn’t, I could never be angry with Guierdrea for being curious.

                “Okay… We should get back to sleep before we wake someone else up,” she agreed. At least I didn’t have to break the conversation.

                “Good night Drea,” I used the nick name for her when no one else was around.

                I gently kissed her.

“Good night Ocifer.” She walked back to her bed.

                I laid my head back on the cloth portion of the bed and drifted into another dream.



                This place seemed so real, the beginning of the planting season. I saw myself running toward Drea, lovely in my dream; she was right by the barn collecting stored grass for the animals. I remember Ezika wanted me to help Drea with her chores, since I’d already done my own.

                “Guierdrea!” I patted her on the back as I slowed myself from running.

                I wore brown pants; a tunic died the color of grape leaves, and wooden sandals with leather tongs. My long blonde hair was tied back, wrapped in a leather strap. Drea wore light brown robes tied at the hip. Simple clothes comfortable for working, her dark hair was let down and tangled, messy. Strands of hair had blown across her face.

                “Ocifer!” her cheeks flushed. “What are you doing here?” Nervous fingers ran through her hair, as if she were suddenly concerned about her appearance in my presence. Inside, I grinned, pleased at her concern.

“Your father asked me to help you,” the image who was me in the dream responded.

I could see myself in a distant time and place, listening, watching and knew… even in this dream state, Guierdrea liked me. In that moment, I appeared too obvious as well.

                “Oh... Ocifer, I-I wanted to uh,” she swallowed a lump in her throat. “I’m okay, I can do it.” She turned away from me and continued collecting grass.

                The field spread across the valley, rolling through the hills, parting for trees that grew up in the draws and following the ridges created for holding water. Guierdrea would harvest most of the field within the three days, much of it alone. She worked hard, long hours from early morning until late in the evening before the shredders came to gather whatever gleanings would be left for their own beasts. Guierdrea, the daughter of the land owner would work until her hands were raw, gathering grasses to feed the stock.

                “Drea, what is wrong?” my voice had clarity in the distant past memory.

                We stared for a moment. She clasped my face between her hands and kissed me. She let go of my face, the warmth of her hands lingered. Her lips parted, still. She gathered up an arm load of grass and began tying the grass she collected. Before she could finish tying I grabbed her arm, and kissed her again, more passionately. The grass fell to the ground. I pulled away.

                “We should keep this between us, All right?” I asked.

                “All right.” Her dreamy gaze just made her more magnificent.

Suddenly, I felt pain, my vision went blurry. Guierdrea faded into the background and I felt a stinging in my head. The scene changed, the smarting stopped and my vision became clear again. The dream state where I felt as if I was watching myself relive the past disappeared and I felt as if I was really there, although in a different time and place.

Was I still dreaming?

                Tuwa, a young boy that used to work alongside me, stood between me and Shogman, I stood in the present, as if I was brought here to this time and place in a dream to relive the past. I recognized the dream state, but I had changed. I was me again, not watching from the future. I noted the change in colors, scenery and time. Spring had become winter.

We stood at the entrance to Zarigia, a gated community with high walls, towers at each corner and a central tower that held watch guards. This was a town where noblemen, men who had community value in Unikra would commonly meet.  I looked around the place and knew the location, though I realized that I’d never been there.

Tuwa, Shogman and I had ‘Business’ to tend in this town. Tuwa had his long bow, Shogman and I had our swords, two iron short swords. Standard swords from the fortress in Yeegen, perfectly balanced, similar to that of elfish swords without the curve that fit their hands and fighting style.

                Tuwa stuck out, his youth obvious although we were near the same age, bold and without the finesse of a fighter. I wore chainmail armor underneath my Sevlow cloak; I had earned the Sevlow cloak after I’d helped Shogman assassinate an entire band of thieves outside of Genity.

The Sevlow cloak is a simple gray cloak that ended just at my boots. Shogman had the same; his uniform consisted of plate-mail armor and a golden armguard on his left arm. The golden armguard indicated he was a true assassin. Tuwa, who was a few years younger than I, had only the chain-mail armor.  He was a good archer, but nothing more. He stumbled when he climbed buildings. He dropped his swords in public so often Shogman took them away. He’d bought a brown shawl to cover his armor. Tuwa looked ridiculous. The shawl dragged on the ground. His hair had started to grow out so it poked him in the eyes a lot, but Shogman didn’t seem to mind. I probably looked the same way as an unskilled fighter, so I never said what I thought about Tuwa to anyone.

                Tuwa had elf features; pointed nose, long fingers, and squinted eyes, he even had slightly pointy ears. If the elves hadn’t been extinct for so long I’d have sworn he was an elf. Shogman had no pointy ears and his eyes were almond shaped slivers in his broad angular face.  A muscular frame made him appear bigger than life and stronger than most that I knew. His appearance reminded me of the ancient’s from the north that founded this land: tall, strong, with small features. His beard and long hair covered his defined chin line, long neck, and distinct jaw line. Yes. Much like how the ancients were described.

                We talked about our plan. Shogman wanted to make doubly sure Tuwa knew what to do.

                “Hello,” a small girl walked toward us.

Her hair, white as snow, surprised me. I was taken by her gray eyes. She wore a pale robe, the color of moon beams. “I am Sliver, What is your name?” she asked.

                Without thinking, I answered, “Ocifer.”

Shogman glared at me. The Sevlow were forbidden to tell our real name. I’d momentarily forgotten that important detail.

I noticed the leaves on the trees shivered as if they were chilled in the breezes. They settled and I gazed back at the girl, Sliver looked small and fragile. She appeared confused.

                Sliver smiled, “My sister is calling, I have to go.” She skipped away.

                “Hold your tongue next time,” Shogman ordered.  I nodded imperceptibly acknowledging his authority without saying a word. I felt confusion bringing me to some level of awareness. I spoke, “I don’t remember that?”

                “What?” Shogman asked politely.

                “Wait . . . I don’t remember that happening? There was no little girl when we were there?” The dream disappeared as I awakened to a different reality. Fear held me silent.

                Ripped from my dream, I didn’t move a muscle. Gripped by a different scene, an unexplained change in my surroundings… I waited.

                “Ocifer,” a voice whispered into the room, “Ocifer!” it repeated a little louder.

                “Shogman?” I answered, confused. “What is it, are they here?” my body tensed and ready.

                “Not yet. But they will be soon... here,” he handed me a letter through the window. “Read it in three days. Don’t forget,” He left.

Like a shadow in the night, Shogman was gone. Shogman never said much, only when I needed to know something did we talk.

                I couldn’t go back to sleep after hearing this. I wanted to open the letter, but I could never disrespect the Sevlow in such a manner. Shogman had been there for me. He’d given me much. I owed him and the Sevlow my life. I owed him my obedience.

I stood. I put on my tunic and brown pants. Then I tied them with a worn leather strap. I tied my long curly hair back by weaving the narrow leather around and around until I could tie it off with short ends and walked out of Ezika’s house.

One of the biggest houses in Genity, it had two bedrooms; one for Drea, her two brothers, and myself, and one for himself and his wife, Dahlia. They opened into a hallway that led to the main room where we would eat, cook, relax, and have parties. Ezika took me in. More specifically, when Shogman found that Ezika was willing to let me stay here, Shogman told me to stay until he was ready for me to return with him.

                I walked outside, just in time to see Shogman climbing over the wall that surrounded Genity; the capital city of the Jormen province.

The wall that surrounded Genity was stone, about twenty feet tall with no real footholds. The stone was rough so it could be climbed.

How he’s still jumping walls like that at his age, I had no idea. I smiled a little, where would I be without Shogman? I wondered. One of the oldest assassins of the Sevlow and he was my best friend. I’d never forget him saving me from Fessici, an old man, brave and strong with a gray beard arrived, lucky for me he had Gladimare with him.

The moon gave me plenty of light. I decided to see what day it was. Besides, my 18th birthday was coming up. I walked north to the center of town where the only sundial stood in front of the inn on a platform of chiseled stone. The sundial had twenty-four numbers that symbolized the time of day, and around the numbers were days, three-hundred and sixty-five, each with fifty-two weeks, and twelve months. I fingered the dial, in the moonlight reading as much by touch as by the light of the unfading moon.

                Today was the fifteenth day in the eighth month, five days before my birthday. I sighed. This is the very night it happened. The night I lost my family; my father, my mother, everyone I knew. Eight years ago… tonight.

                “Sad isn’t it?” a small girl stood beside me. All I could see of her head was her pure white hair. And a sparkling white dress that wrapped up to her neck, and flowed down to her feet.

                “Sliver?” It couldn’t be her, could it? I just dreamed of her, but she wasn’t a part of my past.

                “You know my name. What an honor.” There was no doubt, this was the same girl as in my dream. This was Sliver.

                “Why are you here? Wait, what’s sad?”

                “Your family, they died tonight. Eight years ago, correct?”

                “How did you. . .”I looked back at the sundial and tried to remember if I’d said any part of my thoughts aloud.

                “I find that listening will take a person a long way in life.” She chimed, her voice melodic and delightful.

                Who is this girl? And what does listening have to do with her knowing my history? I haven’t told anyone about this except Shogman and Araba. (Even that was before this little girl was born.)

                “You don’t know anything. You’re just a. . .” I froze, standing before me was the little girl. But her eyes… her eyes turned black as night. Her skin, ghostly pale, what was once a sparkling dress, now a ratty old brown cloth that barely covered her body.

                I jumped back at the sight of her. I looked down, and then back at her. She’d changed back into what I saw before, a small, innocent girl in a white dress.

                “Wha…” I was speechless. No words came to me… nothing.

                She gave me an enigmatic smile “You see me, and I know why.” What was she talking about?

                “Why what? Who. . . What are you?”

                “Patience!” She warned. “You will learn in time. Right now your mind is closed to what I have to say.” She gave me a perplexed look, then smiled and sighed. “My sister needs me, bye.” She walked to the sundial, and then walked through it, as if it wasn’t even there. I was torn from the shock of her unnatural being, between confusion and disbelief I collapsed on the ground, unconscious.

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