Closed We Can Not Direct the Wind (Kaie)

[Kiaramali]

31st of Fall, 513

Beyond the City Walls by the Stables

The stables were enormous. The amount of land wasted on the building made Kiaramali’s stomach weak, but the rest of her spirit was slowly on the mend. Though the city was still cold to her, it was warming up a little. She thought about the kindness of the man she met not that long ago and the corners of her mouth turned up in response.

Her slight change of mood might also have had something to do with the fact that the city’s endless red walls were out of sight. Now that she was once again beyond the choke-hold of Nyka’s gates and free to roam at will, the wind stirring in her direction made her fingers ache to be stretched.

She pulled them free of her pocket and spread them widely in the direction of the blowing wind, igniting an itch that burned through her body. The tickle started at the tips of her fingers and ran deeper than she could have imagined. How she had survived any length of time without using them to guide her was a testament to Makutsi’s ever-watchful eye.

It felt like validation of her recent choices—however painful they were to make. If Makutsi blessed them, she blessed Kiaramali too. The fissure between her heart and her spirit had closed just a notch. It no longer resembled the depths of Nyka’s Aperture.

A wisp of wind ruffled the heavy silk fall of her hair, tempting her. Although the sun was shining overhead, it was scarcely a bell since the curfew had lifted. It was another one of those strange things about the city that would take more than a few days to get used to.

She had only a chime to spare before she’d have to leave this freedom behind and head back to the stables where she’d trade the walls of one prison for another. There was time to linger. Her body shifted, propelling her forward before she had a chance to register the fact that her legs moved. By then there was nothing that could have stopped her.

The first sense of anticipation she felt in days rose as she followed the wind down the road, away from the gate, ignorant of what might lie in wait. She had the sun at her back and her fingers to guide her, what could there be to fear?

[Kaie]

The barbarians always had a strange saying that claimed curiosity killed the cat. She could only hope it wouldn't kill the Myrian too.

Kaie flitted through the trees only miles outside the hated city of Nyka with the nimble speed of a deer. Her stalk was feral and low. A precautionary position she took on this hunt that would not produce her with a meal to feed her. She had not stopped to track any kind of quarry at all. Instead what drove her forth toward the Celestial city was wonder. As a Myrian, she grew up hearing the stories of Myri's conquests. Those tales never excluded how she rose to divine ranks by killing the God of War back then. Yet now she was worlds away and the story had become reality. She knew she was close. Finally she would gaze upon Uphis's domain. Kaie could already feel the ancient hatred for the demigod and his followers boiling within her violently.

In her hand was her bow with an arrow placed upon the string. Though it was pointed toward the earth as she moved through the foliage, it would only take her a moment to lift it toward the enemy. Truthfully she wasn't the greatest shot anyways but at least she had her gladius should things turn rough.

The wild woman was dressed in her traditional attire. She donned a loincloth and leather vest, barefoot with brunette locks flowing behind her in curls and waves of hair. Bold brown eyes watched her surroundings carefully, always keeping an eye on the path she believed lead toward the city. Her only guide. If all went well she'd simply glance at Nyka, say a silent prayer of reverence to the Goddess Queen to condemn Uphis, and then be back on her way. Besides Jervis would probably already be stumbling after her already in the brush. No use in getting him captured when she had other plans for him...

Suddenly she stopped her predatory run with wide eyes. Shock ran across her features and she hurried to rock back on her feet toward the tree behind her. Kaie slipped behind the rather large trunk, placing her back flat against it. She cursed herself under her breath, wondering how for Goddess sake she could've been so idiotic. Of course she should've suspected someone would be on the path to the city. Wasn't that what a path was for?!

The Myrian woman stood there for a moment quietly, listening to the gentle footsteps of the traveler. Was it a monk? Uphis himself looking for his ancient enemy? Could he know? The person was coming closer. Closer. Closer. It would only be a few more paced until the stranger would walk right past her. With the kind of light and close proximity Kaie was to the path itself, surely she would be seen. She had to strike first. And hard.

She took a deep breath and pivoted outside her cover with her bow raised. The arrow was pulled back o the bowstring and the Myrian's expression was furious and warlike. She aimed for the chest of the intruder quickly, prepared to loose the arrow just as Roderick had reminded her to. Much to her surprise, it was no monk or demigod but rather something else. A woman with black eyes and jet black hair. Her skin was a reddish hue that almost reminded her of sandstone and...Did she have more than one eye lid?

"Who are you, Nykan?" She interrogated, only putting the poison in her words when stating the name of the very city she was headed to. Kaie was uncertain of this woman, but did she have right to be?

[Kiaramali]

"Who are you, Nykan?"

Those words burned the Chaktawe from the inside out. She was no Nykan and if not for the arrow knocked directly at her, she would have voiced her distaste.

At once she felt the nakedness on her back, knew she’d left her own bow behind to pass through the gates, traveling to the stables. If she had gone straight to work like she was supposed to, she would not currently have the threat of death looming under her chin.

So delighted by the play of wind on her skin had Kiaramali been, she failed to notice she was being stalked from the woods. Trees would be her downfall. There were so few in the Burning Lands, the fledgling hunter hadn’t thought to scan them first. Zulrav's spit would have eaten her skin or buried her alive if she’d made the same irresponsible mistake in the desert.

Now this hunter with an arrow aimed at her chest, would have the honor of being her sand storm. Kiaramali couldn’t help the feeling of respect that filled her at the level of skill this warrior held.

However, this was not the first arrow ever aimed at Kiaramali’s heart and the last one had hit its mark with certainty. If the steady hand holding this one let it loose, there’d be little left for the pointed tip to hit.

There was nothing she could do but be calm. Her hammering pulse slowed as her fears drained away. Despite the sweat on her brow, if she was going to die here on this path, both eyelids would be wide open.

As she prepared to look death in the face, the obsidian pools of her eyes filled with an emotion she dared not name. Her gaze scraped up the muscular arm of her death-dealer, past the wild kink of hair behind her thick neck, to the chiseled features of the woman’s face.

There was no surprise in Kiaramali’s spirit to find another woman at the other end of the arrow. The fact only deepened her level of respect and made her melancholy for home and the sturdy women of her tribe. Perhaps in her next life, she’d be born with better aim.

Slowly, she opened her mouth to speak to the woman who was as tough as the bark of the tree looming behind her. Pride laced through the Chaktawe’s words, in consideration of the end.

“Kiaramali, of the Tatsuwaat Tribe,”she savored the words in Tawna, refusing to die with the taste of Common in her mouth.

[Kaie]

It was tough for the Myrian woman to keep the shock off her features. Her expression was as rigid as her bowstring, struggling to keep the intensity about her. There was no room for any other emotion. In confrontation, anything that could be taken as a sign of weakness was potentially fatal. She could not allow the risk of granting her opponents any opportunity to find leverage over her. Even if that was simply uncertainty.

Kaie's brow pulled down in thought as she eyed the woman. Her arm was tight as she held the arrow in place against the taught string, staring the red skinned woman down. The Myrian was trying to read her but she found nothing that read of the typical stories of Nykans. She didn't look like Aider at all either, and he had been the first real Nykan she interacted with. This woman was different both in body and in mind. Kaie didn't need to see past the startling gaze of black eyes to see the strange woman's defiance. It radiated from her like heat from the Rearing Stallion's kitchen. Still the cold savage remained in place, waiting for the words that would be her signal. The moment she could let her arrow fly from the string into the heart of the enemy. What would be more gratifying than spilling the blood of a resident of Uphis's domain right under his nose?

The words hit Kaie like a loose wagon. This time she couldn't contain her surprise. The tongue was not the Common one spoken here. The words were foreign and passed over her meaninglessly. She could only assume somewhere within that stretch of words there was a name. Some sort of introduction at least. Though the mysterious figure could've just as easily told Kaie to eat shyke, and she still wouldn't have known the different. Nonetheless, it became clear on both ends that the speaker was now Nykan at all. She certainly hadn't looked it but now Kaie could see she didn't speak like them either. Putting two and two together, the Myrian began to relax. Only a bit though.

"Who do you worship?" Kaie asked with conviction, a final question to rest her spirit or reawaken it. Her voice was smooth and direct. She gave no hint of exactly which deity she may have a grudge against, unless it was already obvious. Unwilling to let her guard down just yet, she knew that most pressing question of all must be answered first. Then and only then would she be able to even consider lowering her bow. Bold brown eyes scanned the woman expectantly and then the tree line behind her once. Waiting for the moment in which both their fates would be decided.

[Kiaramali]

The two women remained locked in a battle of wills, like two stubborn goats. For all the emotion welling up in Kiaramali’s chest, how she managed to stand upright staring into the woman’s eyes failed her.

Why wasn’t she dead yet? The next life would be a welcome salvation. This one held little value for her any longer. If this woman had a clue, she would take advantage of it. There was no honor in dragging out her death. The pause in action only made the air in her lungs taste sweeter.

There was that selfish part of her rising to the surface again. How could her will weaken so easily?

The wall in her mind slammed up, refusing her entry to the darkness where those answers lurked.

Tears threatened, but the well there was dry. Her hands began to shake when there was no release. She would not admit the want of another chance at life. There was nothing in living but loss—she knew that better than anyone else. The feeling of despair that followed that loss had destroyed her spirit. Never again did she want to know a darkness like that.

The tremors in her body deepened. This was surely Makutsi’s final test of her will. The easy way out that presented itself in the form of this hunter, was no accident. In the face of death, she couldn’t allow herself the option of choosing to live.

Despite the cold arrow still pressed to her chest, Kiaramali’s heart slowly began to beat again. It hurt so much worse than her flat acceptance of the end. This woman needed to kill her and be done with it.

The Chaktawe could see the gentle shift in the woman's posture and it gave her pause.

As the tremble in her hands, moved up her arms, it spread iciness through her body that ran deeper than anything the weather could have manufactured.

Her mind and her spirit were more out-of-sync than ever. The reasons she’d left Ekytol were clear to her then—still clear to her now. Even if her body betrayed her. However heavily those reasons weighed on her, she would not allow herself to give in to the landslide of feelings that threatened.

Kiaramali’s tunnel vision narrowed around the woman who now seemed to be toying with her. Her question plagued the Chaktawe’s mind.

Why did she care who Kiaramali worshipped? She doubted this hardened hunter was going to see her body home for a sand burial. Her body would disappear instead, like many others of her people. When she didn’t come home, her parents would know the world had devoured her the same way the sand saw to her long lost friends.

The twinge of guilt she felt surprised her—as much as the fact that her next words were in Common. “Makutsi and Eywaat see to the care of my people. They are the ones who call to me.”

It annoyed her that there was the tiniest shred of hope in her words, only partially because it was likely to be false. Only later, if she lived, would she look for the strength to pick apart the thoughts that drove her in that direction.

Her body convulsed as the tiny spasms driving through her slammed home to her core. It was as though the gods themselves punished her for her weakness. Had she cursed herself by breathing their names in anything but praise?

[Kaie]

It seemed the defiant woman before her had began to shake under her own fortifications. The Myrian watched the tiny tremors shake the woman's frame just a bit. Though she had yet to find one who did not fear her race, Kaie couldn't help but wonder if it was her she truly feared. Despite the fact she could not see through such dark eyes she could tell this Kiaramali had more to her. She did not fall to her knees, begging for her life and offering up valuables. Instead she stood there fiercely. Just staring at her assailant with those black, soulless eyes. They were so void that Kaie felt as if she was the one being truly threatened. Yet she was the one in control of both their fates. The tension in her arms caused her muscles to quake just as gently as the red woman. The arrow still aimed at her potential victim.

Then the answer came and immediately Kaie relaxed her arms. She lowered he bow toward the ground and created slack in the string. Aiming it at the dirt with the arrow still ready, Kaie stared blankly forward. The seconds deity was unknown to her, but the first was unmistakable. Makutsi, Goddess of Rain. Her clan had worshiped the water woman back in the jungles of Falyndar. Certainly this stranger's own allegiance to the Goddess counted for something. She could no longer see further evidence to find this woman a Nykan. Now that she had established the stranger had no pronounced connection to Uphis, there was no reason to try poking her throat with an arrow.

"The Daughter of Laviku is celebrated in Taloba. Myrians aren't welcomed where Uphis rules. Surely you understand," She explained with an apologetic tone to her voice, though she wasn't willing to say the words. Considering anyone around Nyka would know the anger of the demigod, Kaie figured a declaration of her race would be enough. Any Myrian would be defensive in these lands.