Curse of the Moon

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

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 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,

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

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.