-No Title Yet-

A bright new sunrise had erupted over the horizon beyond the sea, showering the star strewn sky with reds and oranges that chased away the dark black of night. The rays touched the cliff dropping from the D'yaen Plateau to the large body of water, but were unable to reach the high plain where the capitol city of Haeridor sat.

When the light finally blasted upon Rohnae, it also spilled across the plain and into the valley. Lake Sraem shimmered in the morning's radiance; the fog hanging over the water formed rainbows stretching across the banks.

The Shaeddix Range that lay north and east of Lake Sraem blocked further passage of the light for many miles beyond the other side of the high peaks. The terrain held the morning's brilliance until it burst over the mountains to deluge the rest of Lower Haeridor with the dawn's beauty.

People were already up and out of their homes when the sun first touched the capitol city. The sunbeams wove through the buildings, illuminating the streets already filling up with citizens beginning their errands. Most were women ambling among the different food stands, but sometimes scruffy-looking men stumbled from alleys, where they no-doubtedly had slept after a long night in a tavern. Rohnae was a very busy city; people crowded the streets from dawn 'till dusk.

But as the High Street ran east toward Lake Sraem, the hustle and bustle slowed and ceased at the gates of the city. The road then continued, over a plain that stretched as far as the eye could see from left to right, but just on the horizon a forest was visible, and in the morning--as it was now--a dense fog drifted to the left of the forest. Where the trees and fog met was the road, crossing over a small river flowing south to the ocean from Lake Sraem. A small town sat in this place, just west of the river on the road. Its name was Ahnaehn.

This village, for it could hardly be called a town, was without all the activity that Rohnae had, but it was close enough to the capitol that common thieves often sought refuge, and nobles from the other side of the Shaeddix passed through. The thieves that came to Ahnaehn weren't always 'common,' and every now and then a townsperson would be found dead, killed in the process of fighting off a thief engaged in his craft.

The nobles almost always just passed through. They seemed not to want anything to do with Ahnaehn, and anyone could have read this on the face of one particular Lord that, on seeing a young boy laughing and rolling around in the mud with his dog, was disgusted beyond all means by the village. However, if a noble would enter Ahnaehn as the sun set, and he or she was directed to the only inn of the community.

The sign of The Light's Nexus swung slightly in the evening breeze, and the painted ball of light upon the sign bore spots where time had begun to peel the paint. A grandfatherly old man was walking unhurriedly toward the inn, his long evening shadow falling in front of him. He guided his horse around behind the inn to the stables, where he gave a straw-haired stable boy his horse and a silver penny. The man then strode over the threshold into the common room, which was full of local men discussing various topics over mugs of ale. All of them briefly paused in their conversations to look up at the newcomer, but almost immediately returned to their drinks.

A young woman approached the old man as he chose a table and seated himself. Her dark hair was pulled up in a knot at the top of her head, leaving large slate-blue eyes discernible. She smiled kindly as she spoke.

"Good evening, sir. Would you like a room for the night?"

He smiled in response. "Yes, I would, and also some supper if it is at all possible." The serving girl nodded and slipped away into the kitchen. Almost as soon as she was out of sight, an even younger girl, a child to be more precise, poked her head out from behind the wall where the stair to the rooms stood. Her eyes, which were also slate-blue, scanned the room full of men and eventually landed on the old man. They widened in curiosity and interest behind a cascade of dark blonde hair, and the girl launched herself from the stairs and hurtled through the door into the kitchen.

"Odd," muttered the man with a chuckle. But the instant the word left his lips, the child was once again in the common room, walking toward him. Her head was slightly turned to one side as she stared at him during her approach, but as she reached the chair opposite him and sat, she put her arms on the table and rested her chin atop them.

The old man and young child gazed at one another a moment; then the man sighed and leaned across the table.

"You are a very interesting girl." He chuckled again and continued, "What is your name?"

"Kivosa," the girl replied matter of factly. "What's your name?" Her voice was overflowing with curiosity. "Are you a lord?"

The man laughed softly at this question. Then he replied, "I am Tohnimas and no, I am not a lord." The girl's wide-eyed stare faltered in disappointment at this statement and then recovered swiftly. The old man's own curiosity got the best of him, and he asked, "What is a child of your age doing in a room like this? Your parents will have your hide if they are upstairs in their room--"

"Kivosa!"

The heated voice sliced through the conversations in the common room. Kivosa spun around in her seat, and Tohnimas looked up to see the dark-haired serving girl staring down at the child.

"Into the kitchen. I'll speak with you in a moment," the woman said curtly. Kivosa glanced at the old man and murmured a good-bye as she slid from her chair and scuffled to the kitchen. Her mother followed the girl to the door, and then turned back to the man. "My apologies, she does this to every new person that comes to the inn. Please forgive her if she has bothered you...." Her voice trailed off as the man smiled and laughed.

"She was not a bother at all--more of a relief after my long journey. A wonderful child..." He paused a moment before shifting his gaze to meet hers, his grandfatherly features exploiting themselves to their fullest extent, and continuing in a concerned tone, "You are very young to have a child. I don't mean to pry, but I can't help but worry....A job as a serving girl can't be making much money, and--ah...." He did not want to offend the woman, and the end of his words brought an awkward silence in which he was certain she felt affronted. His face sank as he stared at the table; his hands that had been fidgeting nervously ceased when the woman laid her hand on the man's shoulder.

Her voice was appreciative when she spoke. "I thank you for your sincerity, but I am doing quite well. But I do think you have me mistaken—I’m not just a serving girl; my husband and I own this inn." There was a hint of amusement in her voice now, and the man looked up, red creeping into his weathered face.

"Oh! Oh, forgive me, miss. An old man's mistake, I assure you....It is my time to apologize full-heartedly," he said very quickly as the woman continued to smile understandingly.

"It happens often. Most people that aren't from Ahnaehn and aren't nobles think the same. The lords and ladies that pass through do not care at all for the commoner's affairs." She concluded with that and smiled again, "Your food will be out shortly." She turned and walked back to the kitchen. Before the door closed Tohnimas heard a clamoring voice begin, "Mother, I was just—“ The rest was lost as the door closed.
Tohnimas propped his elbows on the table and rested his head in his hands. He had begun to doze off when he heard the kitchen door open, revealing a defeated-looking Kivosa and her mother holding a plate and glass. The pair walked over to his table, the mother setting the plate and glass in front of him while Kivosa stared at the floor. The mother straightened and her eyes rested on Kivosa.

The girl must have felt her mother’s gaze on her, for she sighed and looked up at the old man.

“I’m sorry if I bothered you, sir,” she muttered quietly.

“No harm done, child,” he replied. “Would you mind being my company while I eat?” he asked. Her face glowed, her eyes became wide again, and her jubilant grin answered his question. Kivosa’s mother smiled a small thanks and watched her daughter scramble into the chair opposite the man, and then returned to the kitchen.

The night wore on as Kivosa questioned where he came from, if he had any children, everything she could think of…even if he was a Master Swordsman heading to the capitol to compete in the annual tournament. He laughed at the last question—thinking of a man at his age as an entrant—and replied that no, he was not a competitor.

The common room was still full when Kivosa’s mother came to the table and chided the girl off to bed. Kivosa bade the man a good night and hustled off up the stairs, her dark blonde hair flying behind her as she went.

“Thank you for allowing her to be with you all evening. She doesn’t leave the inn much,” the woman paused and sighed, “and there aren’t any children her age in Ahnaehn.”

Tohnimas talked a while longer with Kivosa’s mother before he went off to bed himself. His room was well furnished and the window looked to the west. That was good—he could wake and see the sunrise from his room. He would be in Rohnae after midday tomorrow, and he drifted to sleep with that thought.


“Wake up, child! Quickly now!”

There was a strange smell in the air. Kivosa noticed it when she heard the old man’s voice. She opened her eyes and noticed the lamp had been lighted, casting shadows upon the man’s face. Droplets of…something could be seen on his dark cheeks, but Kivosa couldn’t tell what it was with the bad lighting.

“Hurry, hurry, I need to get you out of here,” he muttered quickly. His face darted to the door as he carried Kivosa from the warm bed. The light reflected in his eyes and shone upon his face, and Kivosa realized—it was blood on his face! She glanced out the window to her right to see a house burning. That unusual smell was smoke. Her understanding of this must have been apparent on her face, for Tohnimas grabbed her hand and dragged her from the room.

“Where are mother and father?” she asked loudly.

“Don’t you worry about them, child. They are safe,” he replied.

They reached the common room and turned into the kitchen to find the door leading to the stable blocked by two beings. Startled looks materialized on their feminine faces, but a sneer appeared an instant after on one woman’s visage while the other glanced nervously at her companion. Kivosa noticed that their hair was white and a bright shade of purple before the beings’ forms began to mutate.

Tohnimas shouted, “Cover your eyes!” Kivosa’s hands flew to her face.

Two bizarre sounds resonated in the kitchen, followed by two dull thuds as something fell to the floor. Kivosa felt something warm on her hands and started to pull them away from her face to see what was on them but—

“Keep your eyes shut,” Tohnimas said grimly and he picked her up. She was jostled in the man’s arms as he began to walk. He must have been avoiding the things on floor. Overflowing with curiosity, Kivosa decided it would be all right to peek. She shifted her fingers and saw a dark, twisted hand lay in a pool of some deep green liquid. Horrified, she clamped her eyes shut again and buried her face in the man’s shoulder.

“All right,” Tohnimas sighed, “you can open your eyes.”

Kivosa’s hands dropped from her face and she began to shiver. A quick glance at her surroundings showed that Tohnimas had brought her to the stable, but her gaze shifted and lingered longer on her hands which had splotches of that green liquid—those women’s blood—on them. She hastily wiped it off onto her nightdress and clutched her skirt in an effort to stop trembling.

“W-where is Mama?” she managed to ask between sobs. At least she had tried not to cry.

“Your mother is safe. Your father, too. They only had to leave before us.” His voice comforted Kivosa and slowed her trembles. “They are just outside the village. We will go to them soon, so you must try to be brave for the time being. Stay here and do not move at all; I will return shortly.”

With that Tohnimas strode from the stable. Kivosa stared after him with glistening eyes as she settled into a corner, her knees brought up to her chin.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed since Tohnimas left, but Kivosa began to doze, thinking it had been quite a while. Then the all-too familiar sound of the stable door sliding open on the far side broke through the sound of a crackling fire, causing Kivosa’s eyes to shoot open.

She could feel the blood drain from her face as the strange being seemed to glide into the stable. It—well, it looked to be a male—he had not noticed Kivosa yet. Pressing against the stable wall, wanting to shrink into it, Kivosa felt her blood turn to ice as the man’s dull orange eyes fell on her. The malicious grin that split his face drew a helpless yelp from Kivosa’s throat before she could catch it. He chuckled deeply and squatted to rest on his heels.

“A little pretty, what a find,” he drawled in a smooth voice. His silky accent surrounded her, blanketed her with a strange static that blocked out all sound except his voice. Kivosa shuddered and began to violently shake her head, causing the strange man to laugh outright. She had to not listen!

“You are spirited, my little pretty…” His caressing voice trailed off as he rose and started to walk toward her, but in mid-step his appearance changed. His mouth and nose came to resemble a dog-like creature, his great maw filled with sharp, curved teeth. His eyes remained a dull orange color, but the pupils had become slits as the position of his eye sockets shifted to an upward slant. The rest of his body continued to distort to this appalling form and when it was finished, the creature emitted a raucous roar and began advancing toward her.

Kivosa couldn’t move, couldn’t scream, and couldn’t understand why not! All she could do was sit there with her breath coming in short gasps and her eyes widening in fear with each step the monster took. Finally her voice came back, and she screamed, flinging her arms up.
Another strange sound thundered in the stable, and Kivosa felt the same warmth all over her front as she had on her hands. She sobbed and screamed uncontrollably, and when she felt arms wrapping around her she kicked and screamed even more.

“Peace, child, peace….It is only me.”

Kivosa looked up and, on seeing Tohnimas holding her, wailed more with her face buried to his chest.

“Your parents are waiting,” Tohnimas said as
Kivosa’s tears began to subside to small sniffles. She nodded and Tohnimas carried her from the stable. She did not look up from his chest. After her ordeal she knew what she would see, and what was really there was exaggerated tenfold in the mind of a six-year old.


That night remained etched in her mind even now, sixteen years later. Memories of her family and home seemed to pester Kivosa more so when she was away. She hadn’t been home in…how many years was it? She had lost count after leaving to study at the Rohnae College of the Arts when she was fourteen.

Kivosa smiled at the thought of the College as she sat in the shade of a willow tree, its branches spreading wide above her cast a large shadow onto the waters of Lake Sraem. The sun was setting with brilliant purples and oranges to her left—she would have to head on soon if she wanted to get to Ahnaehn before midnight.

With a sigh Kivosa rose, grabbing her leather gloves, her knife and her two broadswords. She puffed dark blonde hair from her face to reveal slate blue eyes; only slightly different from her childhood. There was tightness about them, a lack of innocence.

After donning her gloves she continued equipping herself by buckling her knife around her left thigh, and then strapping one sword across her back with the hilt visible above her right shoulder, and the other sword at her right hip. Kivosa sighed again as she saddled her grey mare—Lia’ta was her name—and recalled the first T’nehrian she had slain with those blades. She did not know it then, but the creatures that had attacked her village all those years ago where T’nehrian. While studying at the College she had learned much about their culture, but fighting them had taught her much more.

T’nehrians were very shocking to see. A young T’nehrian could be almost identical to a child living in Haeridor, for their skin was the same as any Haeridi—that is, citizens of Haeridor—but their ears extended to points from their heads. Their ears grew with age and some T’nehrian ears could be more than a foot long. Their hair and eyes could be any shade of color. A very strange people indeed.

Kivosa climbed into Lia’ta’s saddle remembering that first fight. It had been two or three years ago when she was traveling along the eastern bank of the Wistaer River to the town of Taemirh.