A New Beginning…
It is said, that when the first man, of the Moriton, came to the new world, the old one having decayed and lost its life within the earth. The Moriton wore what the earth had given, and the Moriton lived off of what the earth would grant. From the guidance of the Great Horseman, to the thanks of the Great Steed, the Moriton people followed their constellations, becoming a nomadic people.
In the beginning, when the first man of the Moriton came to be on his world, he wandered, traveling, following a single star that would guide him to water across the Sandy Seas. As he wandered, so lost in thought and hope, the man came across a lame horse, injured and left to die. At first, he was going to leave the horse, for it was only an animal. Until his hazel eyes fell upon Apatite eyes that shined like gem-like stars. A creature with such eyes was unnatural, and alluring. As the night was coming, the man sat beside the steed, removing his dark gray scarf from around his head. Taking the steeds leg, by force, he pressed the bone, and wrapped the scarf around its leg. The steed did not move for many nights, through wind, rain, and heat. Each day, he would go out, to get something for the steed to eat, and to drink, but nothing would he give himself, save for what he would need to survive. When the days passed by, and the steed raised itself up, the man removed his scarf, wrapping it around his waist, and made ready to continue wandering. He had been expecting the massive steed to take off on it’s own. Instead, that steed turned it’s head, setting it to the mans forehead. Both closed their eyes, and the horse granted this man a gift.
As the horse pulled away, Apatite eyes looking down, the man raised his head, looking up to the horse. Against the steeds soft coat, so close to his face, he could see a reflecting color. Startled, he drew his sword, and looked at his own reflection on that blade, his eyes aglow with the same blue hue of the steed. Something inside him dwindled, something that was palpable, but no longer a thought. He was not afraid, shocked he was, but not afraid. His sight did not change, but his eyes appearance did, no longer bearing those hazel eyes, they’ve been transmuted, with such an honorable gift. With a bow of his head, he thanked the noble steed for his gift, and expected the horse to simply wander off. Instead, that horse stayed with the man, and bonded with him. Ever since, he became the Great Horseman.
As he went through the land, he found a place, large open fields, and a beautiful river. It was there that the first tribe was raised, The Ruby tribe, named after the coat of the steed he rode. From the first tribe, came more, one tribe outgrowing another. And each child born of these tribes, was born with the blue eyes of the Great Steed. Each child was raised to make their first bow, like that of the Great Horsemans, a bow that was re-curved, and let an arrow fly and pierce through an enemy easy, and clean. Which, proved worthy when tribes began to fight for taking the place of Great Chieftain. There were wars rather often, ending in blood, very few making it through to earn the title of Great Chieftain.
The Moriton were nomadic, and thus, were considered to be barbaric in their ways. Tribes, chieftains, all in great round tents that housed an entire family. But the tribe looked to each other as family, and when it was time to strengthen the tribe, a child would be wed to another from a different tribe. Almost all went through with these arrangements, except one that was of the first of her kind…
Which leads us to meeting Sarnai.
Sarnai was young, born of a great warrior, and a woman devout to taking care of the horses that these tribes relied on for daily life. When she was young, a war broke out, within her own tribe, and when she was but a child of seven, mounted on her pale mare, she watched from the side, her first recurve bow held in a tight grip, watching. She watched as the war broke through, and the flashes of steel shined in the bright sun. A line charged to where her and the other children of the tribe waited, and all drew their bows, prepared to take lives. Unable to let the arrow loose in time, a man took hold of the red haired child, and took her onto his horse. A few of the others were taken as well. Sarnai brought up the arrow that was still on her bow, and managed to slam it into the mans eye. When they fell to the ground, she continued to slide that arrow into the mans eye, until he no longer screamed, or pried at her face to get her off of him. The mans blood pooled over her small hands, and she stood, over the dead man, with the mark of her first kill; blood up to her elbows, and a smile on her face. She had found what she could do in The Grassy Seas. But, both her parents had fallen on those grassy plains, and walked their Final Path of the Fates.
Through her years, Sarnai grew up, to be a young teenager, and took the lives of men, one by one, taking them apart, learning the body in depth. She was deemed the Guitsetgegch, the Executioner. She pulled apart each man and woman, bringing true fear up to the surface, a feeling that none of the Moriton know how to feel. As she stood, with a man stretched on the ground, staked down, she sat atop of him, his eyes frightened, but that wasn’t enough. In her earlier years, she killed men by accident, but yet on purpose. As she got older, she had managed to know how to cut the tendons, the muscles, and still keep a man alive, but immobile.
The entire anatomy of the human she had learned. Even on small animals when she was bored, and had none to have at her hands. As a child, she became someone all avoided. Shunned before the tribe told her to leave. The day the tribe elder said to Sarnai, to leave, that no one wants to have that blood staining the bloodline, that the marriage that was arranged was canceled, in their eyes, she was broken. But as any good an honorable Moriton, she held her head high, and left. But, she was not to leave without a parting gift. As she left, hoisting herself up onto the mare she had bonded with, the whistle of an arrow flew through the air. It was not from any who stood paces away, but from further, where the arrow had caught the wind, and it drove itself into her side, between her ribs. Within a breath, she was mounted and the mare was driving onward, away from the opposing threat. Sarnai clasped her hand over that arrows shaft that had quenched its thirst in her. There was no time to remove it yet, she had to get away from them.
For a distance she rode, away from her clan, away from the ones she called family, until she fell from the horse into the high grass that grew, creating the Grassy Seas. Her skin was soaked with sweat, and the area around the arrow that pieced her was turning a rather ugly and agitated red. “…Poison,” she whispered. Snapping the shaft of the arrow, Sarnai threw it to the side and crawled up to her knees. How pitiful she must look; on her knees, and on the verge of death. The Fate’s had a cruel fate for this Nomadic woman. Sarnai couldn’t bring herself to want death, not yet, at least. There was much more to do with her time.
When Sarnai had managed to come to a place, away from anyone that was around in the tribes, miles away, she pulled herself up the slopes, to the forest that rose above the Grassy Seas. Indeed, it was a tricky climb for someone holding onto their side, loosing blood, and a racing heart that pushed that poison deeper into her system, but a task that Sarnai knew she could not fail. But within this time, of scaling this treacherous landscape, Sarnai’s fingers that had been griping onto the rock, had been going numb, and slipped free. This sent her sideways, down the boulders and rocks she had just climbed, to tumble, head over heels, cradling her arms around her head. Down to the bottom she went, sprawled, covered in scrapes and dirt. The moment her head impacted on the ground, it was lights out for Sarnai.
A pain, akin to a throb, a constant thump in time with her heart beat, echoed in her head. When she opened her eyes, she was greeted with the dark sky, and the Great Horseman over head. What was more disturbing, aside from the hours she had lost, was that she could feel the effects of the poison, and it caused her heart to race. Sarnai pulled herself up, holding her head, and her side with the other hand. But, she looked around, with new eyes. Still the same bright Agate eyes, but, they were new. For a brief moment, she appreciated the view of the Grassy Seas below the starlit sky. Something, she felt, she had never truly seen before. The sounds of the grass moving with a soft breeze brought peace to her mind, but the pain still roared in her temple. She thought perhaps, it was a concussion, but, what she found, while sitting on her knees, watching lazily at the grass that stretched for miles, was… The blood-lust she had. The want and need to feel her fingers and blade cutting into people, it was simply gone. Where had that want gone? It was there, not hours ago, and then she was able to see and feel the world so differently?
Sarnai knew there was no going back to her clan, and she accepted that. What she couldn’t accept, was the arrow that was still embedded in her ribs. Pulling herself over to where she could lean, a noise, that she had recognized as her mare, came close. The blonde steed settled down along side of her, angled so that she could reach into the leather saddle bags. First thing first, was removing that arrow, second, was finding an antidote once she knows what the poison was. From across the saddle, Sarnai pulled her coat, unfolding it so that she could find the hidden pocket where she kept a particularly thin blade. This blade was used for more of her precise work. Slicing the skin, in line with the broad head arrow, she slowly eased it out. On it, still, was a bluish looking goo. Sarnai knew exactly what that was, and if she didn’t get the right herbs together, her heart would stop within the next few hours. Cutting some silk from a stash of fabric she had in her saddlebag, Sarnai filled in the wound, binding it, and stopping the bleeding. She had to get up those rocks, into the woods, and search for the things she needed.
Sarnai rolled, slowly, onto the horse’s saddle, and the mare eased up, and began to go the long way into those woods above. She didn’t miss a single sound, or sight on her way there. Every shift with nature was beautiful, and she felt she could sleep easy surrounded by it. Shaking her head, she couldn’t sleep. She would die, and she didn’t want to die.
It did take time for Sarnai to gather what she needed, and she could feel the harsh effects of the poison in her blood taking its toll on her. Finding the last ingredient, she began to press and fold it together, adding some water, and pulled the silk from inside the wound. Sarnai had managed to start a small fire, to made a tea of the other ingredients, to help the antidote get into her system. It had to be strong, for it had already festered deep inside her, coursing its way through her blood, and to her heart that hammered in her chest. The potency of that antidote took its toll on Sarnai, sending her into a deep sleep.
Come the next day’s setting sun, Sarnai had pulled herself from a drug induced coma, to find that she had managed to survive the night. Taking a stronger, much more potent version of the antidote did its job on her body. There was still the issue with the horribly patched wound, but, she would get to that. Sarnai had couldn’t help but to hold her head, the pain still roaring, but, it was slowly going away. Again, Sarnai found herself wondering what it was that she was banished for. Was she truly that bad of a person? “I am who I am… Now…” she found herself whispering. Although there was no one to speak to, she simply frowned and went about patching herself up.
In time, the years to come, Sarnai had roamed the outskirts of The Grassy Seas. There was a shift in the air, a guiding push from The Fates, as she would say, towards the heavy wooded area that surrounded the Moriton Territory. But it was something that grasped her attention so fiercely that she couldn’t stop her feet from moving. A gentle wind, a soft breeze, and it pulled her along into those woods so dark and thick. Of course, the mare followed behind, and Sarnai took the reigns tightly in her hand. Pausing, she wrapped her black scarf around her head, tucking long red hair up inside. All that could be seen was a pair of glowing Agate blue eyes, and the pale porcelain skin around them. Before she knew it, a shimmer, just ahead, began in the air. Sarnai couldn’t stop her feet. What was it that was pulling her in? As Sarnai stepped through, she found herself being pulled and twisted around, the mare’s neighing made her grip onto the reigns.
Everything stopped moving, and Sarnai opened her glowing blue eyes to look around. A road. Plain and simple. But, the trees around, were not from her home. There was no smell of desert on the air from the south, instead, it was salty. Ocean salt. Sarnai pulled the mare along, its hooves stomping into the hard packed earth.
“….I do not know where we are.. but… It is not the Moriton Territory anymore,” she said to the mare, her arm going around the mare’s neck, hugging the horse. She had looked back, to see if that portal had vanished, but, as she looked, seeing it wasn’t there, she found herself leaning against the mare, “…Maybe… that is for the best.” Sarnai mounted onto the saddle, and began off, searching for the new and hope for the best. Although, what she found, was a lonely inn, called The Red Sun Inn, and with it, it’s occupants.
Twelve years of solitude had lead her to a new place, to meet new people… What… could possibly go wrong?