the talks of war, secrets to unravel, retribution awaiting in the corner, and a curse to break. Will the resolve of the mated soul prevail? or will the horror of the past once haunt the harmony again? Nevertheless, Wajan has only one answer. Her dagger, and her sharp fangs. Yet, she must be wise as to where she points the end of her blade, or else it might cost her the heart of the Lakanni Rajanuk, the mighty Alpha chieftain of the Tagar tribe. The Moon sees everything. Will they be strong enough to endure the trials and save themselves from the curse of the Moon and unite the tribes again to their former glory? or will they repeat the forsaken history that will unleash chaos into the scared land? "It rests upon you, child."
View MoreMy mind still lingers on that conversation with Ykar all while Ettina brought me to other part of the village with a scorn plastered on her sternous face. She still mad about what I did on the training yard and she must know I don't even feel the slighest guilt from it. I didn't kill anyone, nor even inflict a wound. This woman should ease up a bit more. I'm in no advantage to actually cause a big mess without having my head be gnawed to death or my neck be slit to half.My wolf is still recovering, so my abilities in hearing and seeing was minimized for the time being, but it does not hinder me to sense that Ykar was obviously apart from the village folk with regards to his approach to me. He seems likeable and in so far have not insulted me with either stares or words. But he looked at me like he knows something about me that I could never know, and I have every ounce of conviction that I will discover that. That itch on my skin will never go away if I will not learn about it.Etti
Merely a seconds ago, my confidence at escaping from the grasp of the Alpha remains unwavered despite the meeting I had with thim. He seemed sensible, but I know what danger lurks behind those eyes so I will not be swayed by her kindly gestures that I often see at Regent's council. But now, I have realized that my initial plan of fleeing from this village might be a sumptous feast I cannot afford. Ettina have taken me half past the village town, walking through the mud then turns into stone-paved ground the moment we step in the center of the village. My eyes were met with either smoldering stares, or be filled with their enormous body that I assume was gained from their rigorous fighting surviving this forest. Nonetheless, it made me feel small and I am not fond of that irksome feeling. These people are what my hometown people would call giants. With their tall and muscular figure, it does not take a second to guess they are formidable opponents even if they lay asleep around you.
The gods must be toying with me. That was the first thing that came on my mind when I was left once again in the four corners of this cold and plain chamber. The wind blew coldly, and I thank the gods I have a thick blanket to shield me, though it stank a bit but it is something I coudl endure.I've heard of those tales from when I was still in my youths. The sisters, especially Olgra, often talks about the wonders of it. It has been known, or at least been recorded, that the dwellers of mount Anquioar have the distinct ability to find their partner for eternity. It was a magical tale to most women who dreamed of romantic entanglement for a young age - it was the sweetest dreams they would rather have than be a grim and brooding lady such as me, they say - but I regard it as nothing but a child's imagination. It was that or to live in the shadow from suffering the cruel training of the Order. Ettina bid me good night and said nothing else. I was silent the whole walk and she did not
With one soft graceful flick of my hand, the wind blew soothingly, as if trying to dance along with my movements. The melodious and feline dance seems to attract the breeze, the only audience to my little show.The surroundings stilled with silence. No one seems to bother by the peacefulness of the vicinity. The reigning sun shines brightly above the covered forest, peeking through the little holes in between the bundles of leaves. Along with the soothing breeze, the chirping of the birds, and the rustles of the leaves is the melody I play inside my head. The hymn of Rathkara is one of the oldest songs ever played in the history of Kharsahans. it is an honour to perform this dance for the show. Grateful for the Maestra, I vowed to fulfil my part."Wajan, are you certain you can do this?" The doubt in her voice is evident. She does not fear for me, but she fears I might fail her and disgrace myself."I am, Maestra. I beg of you to give me this chance," I pleaded, in a tiny, frail voice
She is feral when she took control of our bodies. Snarling and snapping at every wolf that nears her five paces, she is chaos walking. They stalked her, circling as though she was a rabbit in a hole when they realized a strike upfront would not do. That pestered her mind. She felt the great need to put these dimwits in their rightful places.Four enormous wolves, experienced ones, I have gathered by looking at their footing and stance - a lot different than the wilding she have tangled back in the village. Those were deranged - driven entirely by their lust for blood. Less five than before, but these are hardened male warriors, and intact. They move with preciseness and sharpness with their eyes.She knew we are at disadvantage - perhaps our only edge was that we are bigger, being that they only reach the snout - but we are not backing down. Well, at least she is. I planned to escape, but with her hands on the reins, it would be difficult to convince her otherwise.She waited too long
I took off my cloak with one swift turn. It revealed the standard black livery the Order provides. This one is a new, the latest design from a wardrobe that I had picked. It was lighter than most but durable and workable with the linen fabrics weaved by the fine hands of Kivans - The royal seamstress of Ailech Kingdom, renowned for their adept skills in their crafts, especially of combat garbs. My chest is covered with a silver-plated corset that is used for protection. I had one too, a heavy iron-plated shoulder on the left of my shoulder where the largest wound still inflict its pain. I must have it protected as I can no longer afford it to be hindering me further. My leather belts wrap tightly on both of my legs where most of my throwing daggers await their use. On my waist, a leather pouch on both sides was strapped. One filled with ruchin powder. I had to remind myself not to use too much, otherwise, it could also affect me despite the cloths covering my nose and mouth.Normally,
When I was left alone in the room, the quiet whispers of the cold wind made the flame from the candle dance in its direction, my mind drifted to the possible outcome of Sudan's tricky plan if I was sane enough to agree to it. It was maddening enough that he was doing this not because of his pious preaching of charity and generosity but because he longed to hold a seat in Antuan, and I was even madder that he held me accountable for all the lives at stake under this vermin of a disease that is not only wrecking my insides but also causing me distress. The worst is, he is right. I needed that herb.Sudan is all but an honest man. There is no doubt he was a great healer and a medical practitioner, being a young alumnus of the academy, but he was no good-natured man, despite his devotion to One God and the seven sons. The wolfsbane was one of his many antics to earn the favor of the masters. If curing a whole city of infectious Rot, surely the deed was worth commending of a good place in
I screamed in pain when the scorching metal came straight from the burning flame or brazier pressed on my open wound. My body arched from the sting of the procedure as my handmaiden caressed my head in hopes of providing comfort. She knew the great pain I suffer at the moment and being knowledgeable in just the household chores but nothing of healing treatments, she was left to do the consoling.I cursed aloud repeatedly and rather heatedly. No one in the room minds my brazen tongue. They are all concentrated on attending to the open wounds and injuries. Commonly, they would sew the flesh to close it, preventing the foster of bacteria on the wound. But the healer, after a fleeting moment of examining the flesh when the Maestra had personally escorted me to his infirmary, had deduced an infection and called for his underling to aid his procedure.I was on the brink of literal death when I set foot at the city gates, carrying the unconscious coachman in my arms weighing almost twenty po
I wiped the crimson spilled over my shoulders and left of my face with a white cloth I have prepared earlier just for this purpose. My stiff hands were gritting with force as I remove the splatter of blood from my face all while staring at the horror before my eyes, sitting comfortably on a red couch remembering if I ever did my work this messy before. Bodies atop of one another and their blood spilled like hot milk on the slight sheen of the floor. The air is thick with the stench of blood as though you licked the rust off of the metal. The warm glint of the lamp provides in the small corner of this chamber has given me enough light to see the scenery in detail. One particular body, just beside my seat, has been a bother among all. Her hair was sprawled and drenched in crimson from the cut of her neck. Her gown is made similar to mine, red silk and soft fabric, with embroidery of gold and silver. Her arms were twisted and turned, legs were bent to a certain degree, but her face was
The raging fire swallowed the last stoned home, it's flame burning bright towards the vast horizon as if reaching for the moon. The thick smoke drifted to the heights of the sky, the wind blowing it everywhere. To the north, where bodies of foot warriors lay dead. To the eastern gate, where all women of bay'ala were drenched in cold blood. To the west of the shore, where the spirit warriors - stilled on their coats soaked in the saltiness of the old sea - were gnawed and torn to pieces. And to south, where she stood still behind the thick and tall trees, holding her child against the blistering cold, watching silently but her heart's mind bear deafening screams.To others, seeing the smoke in the sky meant triumph. Victory. But to her, it filled her heart with immeasurable hate and agony.And there it was, the village has been burned like Arum himself descend from the sky down and wreaked his wrath. It was a punishment. That was the story most of their kind believed, but for a mother c
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