Early Life – Pre-Strider “Your Strider is your life, care for it before you do anything else. My young rider, remember that if you remember anything I have taught you.”
Spoken years ago those words bring up a recollection of memories of events since passed.
The first memory Isabelle could recall from her early childhood was being taught to ride by her father, sitting on the back of his large barrel chest Strider She could recall the feel of the Yvas’s flat broad hand grip under her small hands, worn smooth by the rough hands of her father. It was also these rough hands she was able to recall covering her as they cantered along the paths that crossed the Sea of Grass. The wind rushing through her locks as they flowed behind her. The horse’s muscular stride as it took it’s duo of riders across the rustling Sea of Grass.
When recalling his rough hands covering hers Isabelle recalls moments when he was guiding her hands across his Strider’s mane showing her how to remove the burrs the got caught in it during their rides together. The tough whiskered brush he used to brush the horse down before settling down at night and how it rippled through the beautiful chestnut’s hair and mane. She recalls that the brush was far too big for her childish hands to hold without his aid.
Mostly she recalled his hands and their callused toughness and the roughness with which they felt, yet their gentle touch against her skin and how he caressed his Strider gently.
These memories held steadfast in her mind for so long that Isabelle remembers the everyday occurrences in her life. Waking early to greet Syna to feed and brush down her father’s Strider. She had no mount of her own at this time. After they fed her father’s companion and lifeline they would feed themselves and then gather their supplies and prep the horse. Then it was a long day’s worth of riding and resting, always tending to the Strider’s needs before their own.
Early Life – Death of a Rider “Run my little rider! Run like a Strider! Do not stop keep running ‘til you hit rock!”
Those very words echo through her head daily, a reminder of the sacrifice a Drykas goes through to protect their clansmen. Those words and the curtain of fire that consumed her father in his entirety wake her from slumber. Sweat would roll down her face, and yet she knew she could never bring him back. The Web will show me him, yet only how he shall appear to me—as a figment of my past.
The story of how her father died is n’t exactly the most widely known story, but it is likely that others have heard of it, the story of his death is a great lesson to be learned by Webber and Drykas alike. It goes a little like this:
It was a hot and dry summer the year that Isabelle turned six. The Sea was dry and brittle, little rain had fallen during the previous season. Isabelle’s father was on duty guarding a Webber; their protection was paramount in keeping the integrity of the Web. Today was no different, The fire came suddenly from the eastern side of their campsite, a hidden spark within their campfire’s soot bed that ignited and was quickly fed by the warm breeze that swayed the grassland’s foliage. It was this same swaying foliage that resulted in the fast moving fire curtain that erupted whilst the party was packing up. The fanned flames quickly spread, resulting in an intensely burning curtain of flames that separated the child, father, webber, and the father’s strider. Luckily for the Webber his strider remained on the other side of the flames.
The fire was able to grow far faster and taller rather quickly in a short span of time that the rider couldn’t wake the web-walker fast enough to get them to safety. In a decision Isabelle’s father did what he had to, pulling his daughter to her feet and quickly onto the back of his Strider, the yvas and blanket that normally adorned its back were missing as they were brushing down the beautiful chestnut. Grabbing the blanket from the ground and his water skin, without answering the screaming pleas of answers from his daughter proceeded to dump the contents of the water skin on the blanket.
It was with a toss that the soaked blanket covered Strider’s back and the young rider upon it. With a whisper to the horse the Strider bolted through the hot flames.
The five second ride on the Strider seemed a lifetime of heat and torture to Isabelle. Without her father’s callused hands gracing the tops of hers the ride was alien to her, grabbing tightly onto the mane of the chestnut she held her breathe, afraid that sucking in any of the hot air around her would burn her lungs out completely.
On the other side of the ring of fire, as that is what the curtain indeed became, several sets of callused hands gripped at the smoldering blanket and removed the sweaty frightened child. Blinking and covering her eyes from the sun, it was blinding in it’s clear brightness compared to the red-orange glow that pierced her eyelids and blanket.
As voices tried to sooth her, members of her clan there people were, she only stared off at the ring as they rode off, keeping always ahead of the expanding flames.
Father… Her mind screamed repeatedly, yet Isabelle remained silent in speech, her hands remained curled against her chest the whole ride.
The last Isabelle saw of the horse that saved her life was that it disappeared from her sight, circling around the flaming circle of death trying to find a way to it’s beloved rider. No one knows what happened to the poor horse. The remaining members of her family made it to a hard rock outcrop and here they waited for the raging flames to die out, while there were several that ran out several yards in all directions with digging tools. For hours they were gone, digging trenches to stop the spread of the wildfire, before returning. It was days later that Isabelle and a member of she hardly knew returned to their campsite, hoping to find Strider and Rider a live. Yet, all they found were the ash piles and charred bones of two corpses and no sign of the Strider. The only thing left was the stone Isabelle picked up and kept (see heirloom in possessions).
Early Life – Chosen by Strider and Windmarked “He is now part of the Web…”
Isabelle used those words to remind herself time and again during the next two years that her father was part of the Web and the Sea of Grass, it was a reminder that life does indeed move on much like the city of Endrykas. The young girl always found herself staring out along the tall grasses of the plains she called home, especially in the early morning when she hoped and prayed to the Sun and Moon in the coupling that her father and his Strider would come back to her… Her prayers were never answered.
That was until one morning in the early Spring during her usual pre-dawn prayer when both lovers (Syna and Leth) were in the sky together. It was a rather clear sky but the ground was graced with a fine misty cloud of silver, thicker in some spots than others. It was through this that Isabelle could hear something whisking through the Sea’s damp grasses. Making its way through the mist was a silhouetted beauty of a horse. Isabelle could catch small glimpses of it through the weak spots in the mist.
Deep red dun color, with a black mane and tail that with Syna’s rays shimmered with a faint red-orange that reminded the young girl of the fire still so raw in her past.
It was with Syna’s gracing rays that started to break the mist’s embrace and wake the camp’s sleepers. It was here and now that the others saw the young horse breaking through the last of the mist and trot up to the young girl. It bowed its head and with a huffing snort graced Isabelle’s braided Mohawk locks with an adorning sniff of approval.
Isabelle’s Strider had arrived.
It was nearly thirty days later before Isabelle and the group she traveled with made it to the location of Endrykas at that time. Taking it slowly upon her newly found Strider the two were a perfect match for each other.
It was before the Ankal of her pavilion she was presented to, as was her Strider. She was only eight winters old, a child still.
The ceremony of gaining that coveted Windmark was extensive, the pain of gaining her Windmark was drawn out and tedious, but she cried out not once, nor did she flinch during the whole process. Even though her left hand screamed in its own nerve running wildfire and her brain threatened to cave under the pressure… Isabelle remained strong, reminding herself that her Father would want this of her.
After everything was said and done Isabelle’s Windmark was presented to all her peers. Her left palm was etched with black lines that curved, whorled, and entwined themselves. These lines were graced and accented with a lovely shade of red that would eventually fade over the next few days.
Now Isabelle was amongst peers. A member of society. She was a Drykas.
Early Life – Post-Strider and Introduction to the Web
“Your father and I agreed that when you were ready, you would learn to become one with the Web.”
The words took place in private, in the Ankal’s tent the young Drykas rider stood before her Ankal. There was a moment of silence as the words sunk in heavily saturating the air with the honor-bound words invoked. Isabelle couldn’t believe the words she was hearing, the Ankal spoke to her like she was someone of importance!
Isabelle was without words for sometime, only a nod of acceptance of his words. She had been out near the boundary between the Sea of Grass and Riverfall where the blue men live. Isabelle had spent the last few weeks out that way with a small group of her pavilion learning the ways and language of the Akalaks before returning home. It was Isabelle’s vision to see better relations with the blue-skinned natives.
It was during this small bout of time that the young Drykas woman learned what little she knew of their native tongue, Tukant. It was also during this time when young Isabelle found her passion of negotiating between the two races.
But this was an honor and Isabelle wasn’t planning on missing it for anything. Accepting the Ankal’s invitation to learn webbing was also with a simple nod.
The next day once more early in the morning when one could see both Syna and Leth together in the sky as a couple should be the Ankal introduced Isabelle into the world of the Web. It was an amazing sight to behold.
The world took on a kaleidoscope of colors: greens, reds, yellows, and blues. Flashing brightly and weaving wondrous patterns around her. It was as if the world took on these whirlwind of colors and images, animals and people she never knew before but heard stories of. Legends and myths rallied against reality.
Father! He was amongst the Web’s occupants, and the webber she recalled him trying to save.
A call and shake from her Ankal though quickly returned Isabelle to reality. Yet she could feel the tugging pull of the web and could feel the current beneath her feet.
Post-Webbing to Present TBD
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