Post by Killashandra on Nov 30, 2008 19:12:50 GMT -5
Seventeen long years of war had finally come to a close for the people of Talora. For years men had toiled and died to protect lands and lively hood from a demon driven army that rose from winter's snow. The very land rejoiced as the snows began to melt away allowing spring to come forth once again. Even the season's had been trapped beneath the icy snows.
On the Laplos islands a small child wept as she stood looking over the destruction of the glass domes and spiraling towers. The once rainbow light that had bathed this ethereal world had died at the hands of the ice driven army. The temples were desecrated. The towers once dedicated to learning had fallen or been drained of their magik. The island had fallen.
The single girl child left of her people looked up with glassy eyes and knew nothing could be done for home. In her hopelessness she made the ultimate sacrifice. With the rage in her heart of the dead and the power of her ancestors she cried out with a magical song and the island rumbled and fell. Sinking into the ocean to await a time when the world was fit for magik to return.
Throughout the land a silver strand of power snapped. Each person no matter their rank or riches felt a something disappear leaving a whole in their hearts. Fey folk of all forms cried out in despair as they were swallowed into the earth and submitted to an eternal sleep. There they would rest until all had healed and they could return to a place safer and more accepting of their light and goodness.
*
A hundred years went by in the land. Common folk toiled to rebuild the splendor of the old times. Talora slowly healed from a war that had destroyed all things. It was a hard time for the people. Each person, in his or her own way, found life missing something important, something so sacred that they could not be whole without it.
In the lands called the Grass Plains a gypsy caravan was massacred by one of the many horse tribes who called these lands home. They left not a survivor. And yet a single child lay hidden tucked under an overturned wagon. Her hair was the color of moonlight and her eyes were a flickering rainbow never settling on a single color. The child lay silent and waited knowing, hoping, her mother would return.
Three days passed and the child remained oddly silent, waiting. The Esponda people rode the length of their lands having heard of the massacre on their lands committed by another tribe. They drove their herds before them, snorting and stamping the horses hooves rolled like thunder before the saddled men.
*
Petar swore as he viewed the carnage before him. The gypsy caravans had always traveled in safety across the Esponda lands. Never before had a raiding tribe attacked. Now that had changed. As chief he knew he could not let this pass without retaliation, but first the ruins must be given a thorough sweep to check for survivors.
"Petar I think we've found a survivor among the wagons. She's only a child but somehow her will to survive has been strong."
Petar looked to the boy who spoke and nodded slowly. "I'll rear the chit. Let's head home know and prepare for war. The perpetrators of this foul deed will not go unpunished. The gathered men nodded in agreement and all set out for the spring encampment.
*
Seventeen years passed and the girl grew into womanhood. Her silver hair grew long and free down her back. Her fluttering eyes spun dreams into the soul of every person who looked upon her. But with hard work she had learned to settle the color when she chose, which was often when not among the Esponda.
"Petar? Father?" the girl called.
"Killashandra child what is it?"
"I am leaving to Quest. My time has come and something strange calls to me. It sings in my very blood. I know you have reared me and loved me, but my people left something inside my heart. I cannot forsake them by turning away and forgetting. I will leave in the morning and ride for Taipai."
Petar nodded accepting his foster daughters request, "Take what you need. I offer you any three horses from my heard. Your tent and mount are also your so take."
Killa nodded and turned away. The next morning with the sun in her hair she rode away from her adopted family and followed her heart. Behind her three proud stallions reared and snickered. Steam puffing as they extended all efforts. The world was open to them.
*
Three long months later and Killashandra had made her way to the city of Taipai. She marveled at the immensity of such a place. Before this day she had never left the Grass Plains.
On the Laplos islands a small child wept as she stood looking over the destruction of the glass domes and spiraling towers. The once rainbow light that had bathed this ethereal world had died at the hands of the ice driven army. The temples were desecrated. The towers once dedicated to learning had fallen or been drained of their magik. The island had fallen.
The single girl child left of her people looked up with glassy eyes and knew nothing could be done for home. In her hopelessness she made the ultimate sacrifice. With the rage in her heart of the dead and the power of her ancestors she cried out with a magical song and the island rumbled and fell. Sinking into the ocean to await a time when the world was fit for magik to return.
Throughout the land a silver strand of power snapped. Each person no matter their rank or riches felt a something disappear leaving a whole in their hearts. Fey folk of all forms cried out in despair as they were swallowed into the earth and submitted to an eternal sleep. There they would rest until all had healed and they could return to a place safer and more accepting of their light and goodness.
*
A hundred years went by in the land. Common folk toiled to rebuild the splendor of the old times. Talora slowly healed from a war that had destroyed all things. It was a hard time for the people. Each person, in his or her own way, found life missing something important, something so sacred that they could not be whole without it.
In the lands called the Grass Plains a gypsy caravan was massacred by one of the many horse tribes who called these lands home. They left not a survivor. And yet a single child lay hidden tucked under an overturned wagon. Her hair was the color of moonlight and her eyes were a flickering rainbow never settling on a single color. The child lay silent and waited knowing, hoping, her mother would return.
Three days passed and the child remained oddly silent, waiting. The Esponda people rode the length of their lands having heard of the massacre on their lands committed by another tribe. They drove their herds before them, snorting and stamping the horses hooves rolled like thunder before the saddled men.
*
Petar swore as he viewed the carnage before him. The gypsy caravans had always traveled in safety across the Esponda lands. Never before had a raiding tribe attacked. Now that had changed. As chief he knew he could not let this pass without retaliation, but first the ruins must be given a thorough sweep to check for survivors.
"Petar I think we've found a survivor among the wagons. She's only a child but somehow her will to survive has been strong."
Petar looked to the boy who spoke and nodded slowly. "I'll rear the chit. Let's head home know and prepare for war. The perpetrators of this foul deed will not go unpunished. The gathered men nodded in agreement and all set out for the spring encampment.
*
Seventeen years passed and the girl grew into womanhood. Her silver hair grew long and free down her back. Her fluttering eyes spun dreams into the soul of every person who looked upon her. But with hard work she had learned to settle the color when she chose, which was often when not among the Esponda.
"Petar? Father?" the girl called.
"Killashandra child what is it?"
"I am leaving to Quest. My time has come and something strange calls to me. It sings in my very blood. I know you have reared me and loved me, but my people left something inside my heart. I cannot forsake them by turning away and forgetting. I will leave in the morning and ride for Taipai."
Petar nodded accepting his foster daughters request, "Take what you need. I offer you any three horses from my heard. Your tent and mount are also your so take."
Killa nodded and turned away. The next morning with the sun in her hair she rode away from her adopted family and followed her heart. Behind her three proud stallions reared and snickered. Steam puffing as they extended all efforts. The world was open to them.
*
Three long months later and Killashandra had made her way to the city of Taipai. She marveled at the immensity of such a place. Before this day she had never left the Grass Plains.