AESSA'S CHILDREN: BOOK ONE -- THE LAST BORDER
By V. A. Watts (c) 1993
NOTE: This work is under a registered copyright and unauthorized distribution is prohibited and will be prosecuted. All characters are fictional and of my own invention. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Note on pronunciation: Proper Names and nouns within the language most commonly used on Aessa, Lliyassean, allow that each letter have its own sound. The first vowel in each word is long, the following vowels hold the short sound. Therefore, the name Thana is pronounced: T-HAYN-AH. Maygra is MAY-IH-G-RAH, Kieri is KI-ERR-IH, and Jael is JAY-EL. Diminutives such as Jai and Mag are pronounced as written, so Jai would be Ji (long "I") and Mag would be Mag with a short "a". The use of glottal stops is pervasive. Words ending in "I" are masculine gendered, "a" indicates feminine gender, "n" indicates plurals. Partial Glossary is at the end of each chapter.
Brother and sister made good time, reaching the sparser wood surrounding Rhema without incident. Nearing the Keep, Maygra grew more cautious, tension growing in her body as she surveyed the gaping walls and shattered gates. The smell of molten stone and metal hung mingled with the more nauseating scent of rotting flesh, fallen bodies brutally exposed to the sun. What livestock survived had scattered, driven away by fear and the smell of death in the air. Mikayl's quick scan revealed no threat and they moved like ghosts into the Keep, their targets the broken armory and food stores. CHAPTER FIVE
Mikayl dug among the ruins of the tower with disheartening results. What weapons he could reach were broken and useless, shattered by the fallen stone. As little as he liked the task, he gathered what arrows he could from the still bodies, pulling blades from stiff fingers. The stench overcame him and he drew back to the hall seeking a way into the sick rooms for the herbs and powders Sura had asked for.
The smell of decomposing bodies faded as he entered the cool, quiet chamber. Vague herbal aromas clung to the stone, the thick walls making the silence seem natural. He drew a deep breath, not even trying to suppress the shuddering of overwrought nerves. Another breath calmed him and he sought the storage room where the Healers kept their supplies. He packed what Sura had asked for then added items not noted but which might prove useful -- a small mortar and press, two bottles of distillate fluid, clean linens for bandages and a dozen or so packets of unidentified powders. Emerging quickly, he headed for the steps in front of the hall to meet his sister. Halfway out of the sick rooms he hesitated, turning back, trying to recall what he had forgotten.
The chamber was empty. The beds neatly waited for patients who would never come again -- all save one. Bedclothes were tumbled onto the floor, a basin of something had spilled across the table and floor, the nurse's chair kicked away carelessly. Mikayl approached it slowly, eyes narrowing as he recalled who had inhabited the bed.
Unable to fight back with no one available to help him, the paralyzed guardsman had been taken. Mikayl could find no other explanation. There was no sign of blood on the linens and no signs of violence save the basin and chair -- evidence of haste rather than resistance. His eye was caught by the glint of metal under the bedside table. He drew the slender belt knife out carefully. He recognized the weapon instantly -- Maygra had commissioned it from the blacksmith at Tellis Fair for Damyn. It was more decorative than practical but Damyn had carried it with him, using its fine blade for small tasks requiring more finesse than strength. He stared at the bed, his breath coming in short, hard pants. Damyn had come here with a purpose, a purpose he had not fulfilled -- but had Duran been taken before or after the Healer's visit?
His chest tightened and he trembled, turning away quickly to run from the chamber. Had Maygra been wrong then? Duran was no child, for all his physical helplessness. From their reckoning the day before, possibly six or seven children had been taken. What if the raiders had been willing to take adults as well? He stumbled and nearly fell, catching himself on the steps below the common hall.
He was alone. Maygra had not returned from her own foraging. He stared out blindly, breathing rapidly, clutching the bag of medicinals close to his face to mask the sweet-sour stench in the air.
When Maygra finally appeared he hesitated, unable to express himself in the face of her anxious frown. She caught his hand, crushing his fingers until the pain broke the despair building in him.
"Don't think, kiri," She murmured, stroking his hair. "Don't dwell on what we've lost, only on what--who we've saved," she said, drawing him after her as they sought the living quarters for wearable goods, not hesitating over what they took. The dead would not begrudge them the heavier, sturdier clothing set aside in the gentle days of summer. Inside the great hall the destruction was worse than the common grounds beyond. Not everyone had made it out before the walls collapsed and from the amount of blood drying on the stones, not everyone had died instantly. A quick search revealed the kitchens and store rooms intact and they gathered as much dry rations as they could carry. They would have to depend on hunting for fresher fare.
By the time they were finished Mikayl was white faced and silent and Maygra's arm had begun to ache again making the heavy pack more of a burden then she had anticipated. She felt light-headed and feverish as she settled the pack and signaled Mikayl to join her. The sun was already sinking, casting shadows along the walls. Mikayl watched them for a moment before turning to his sister, his grief plain on his face.
"We can't leave the. . . them out in the open like this, Mag," he said
"We have to, Mal. We've left little trace of our visit so far -- we can't press our luck," she said quietly, aware of the aching silence surrounding her. "The Dark One surely has had her fill for awhile," she added, glancing overhead as if Yranna still hovered over the fallen souls.
A movement caught the corner of her eye and she stared, willing it to be one of the uralen come to feast on the carnage. It was some distance away but she needed no Gift to recognize the swift, arrow-straight approach. Alerting Mikayl she ran, the urge to stand and fight screaming in her warrior's soul. They reached the edge of the hulden before she dared turn back and look only to realize the vegen was not stopping, but pushing past the Keep in search of something else. They ducked into the wood, catching glimpses of the beast as it circled beyond them, searching.
Mikayl tensed, sending his sight and sense ahead but catching only the faintest echo of their companions. "They're Shielded, Mag," he whispered as they pushed deeper into the dense stand of trees.
"Where in Kairos did the damn thing come from?" she demanded, not expecting an answer. "It's as though it can smell us."
She looked up, straining to catch sight of the vegen through the tree tops then nearly fell as it seemed to dive straight for them. She could hear the warning hiss, then the trees above them erupted into flame. Mikayl jerked her arm and they ran. Behind them the vegen whirled, screaming, and dove again at the same spot.
Maygra hesitated, a thought half forming itself in her mind, but Mikayl urged her on and she lost it in the need to escape. The creature continued to dive at the spot they had just escaped from and Maygra struggled to remember why it was important.
"We have to warn the others," Mikayl hissed in her ear, dragging her under a deadfall to obscure them from an aerial tracker. Maygra nodded then suddenly gripped his arm so viciously, he gasped in pain.
"No! They're Shielded -- it can't find them -- Goddess! It's Gift sensitive -- don't, Mal!" she warned as she saw him prepare to force his way through Jael's Shields.
"What?" he said, staring at her as if she were mad.
"Look at it, it's still after us -- these vegenen are blind, Mal. They can't see -- only sense. But how far?" she hesitated, thinking aloud as she stared intently at the sky. "They have to have a range, unless . . . . Oh, Lady's Nightmares!" she swore and crawled from under the deadfall, heading deeper into the woods, Mikayl scrambling after her.
"They're waiting for us -- waiting for us to use our Gifts so they can find us," she responded to Mikayl's urgent question.
Mikayl stumbled to a halt, his face stricken with guilt. "Lady below, then, I --," he turned and ran back toward the beast's path.
Maygra swore and chased him, branches snapping out of her way as she thrust through the heavy foliage. She fell twice, regaining her feet each time with a new ache to add. Mikayl was so fast, every movement driven by guilt and the raw need to put things right again, regardless of the cost. The air around them was thick and hard to breathe, burning in her chest and throat. She glimpsed him ahead of her, struggling over a thick deadfall, his pack caught in the tangled branches. Calling him, she pushed herself, tapping reserves she was not aware she possessed until she was close enough to lunge, fingers catching the strap and to pull him back with the last of her strength. He fell and Maygra fell on top of him, desperately trying to pin his arms to the ground.
"I've got to lead them away!" he moaned, fighting her with desperate energy, shoving her aside and regaining his feet. Recklessly, Maygra swung her axe handle, catching him behind the knees and sending him tumbling to the ground, a cry of pain escaping him. She threw her whole weight on him, catching him across the throat with one arm, her other hand tangled in his hair, forcing him to look at her and listen.
"Mal! Listen to me!" she commanded then struck him, momentarily halting the steady guilty sobs. "They haven't found them! Jael has them Shielded and they can't penetrate his Shield completely or they'd have found us last night, " she said and drew a relieved sigh as his eyes focused on her. "Sacrificing yourself won't do us any good, kiri'nai. You've already led it away. It went for us, Mal. For you and me, " she said, watching him, a faint smile brushing her lips as she saw sanity return. "Now, come on," she said and rose to her feet, pulling him up after her and nearly dragging him down again as she reached for the axe, her leaden legs giving way. He caught her, ignoring her curse and put a shoulder under hers, taking the weapon from her numb fingers.
She took a deep breath, choking on the acrid air, then stumbled forward a few steps before shrugging off her brother's supporting arm; Mikayl stayed close behind her, keeping pace with her as she led him through the hulden as quickly as she could manage. Her chest ached from the run, her vision blurring as a deep pain in her side seemed to erupt from nowhere. She pressed her side gasping and retching before Mikayl realized she had faltered again. He set her good shoulder under his once more, ignoring her protests, and half dragged her through the wood, his nostrils smarting at the scent of wood burning behind them.
By the time they reached the camp it was dusk and the eerie red glow of fire sent shadows into the night. Maygra could barely keep to her feet, her skin feverish against Mikayl's. He was panting with the effort of keeping his grip on both his sister and her precious pack of supplies. There was a movement in the trees to his right and he turned, losing his grip on Maygra and tripping as his feet got tangled in her legs. He nearly impaled himself on his half-drawn sword as a shadow detached itself from the trees.
"Easy, Mal," a familiar voice said soothingly and he let the blade fall to the ground, point digging into the dirt until Laric loosened his grip on the hilt. Other hands caught his bare arms, searching for injury and Mikayl leveraged himself away, shoving the Healer toward Maygra.
"Not hurt . . . ," he gasped as Damyn knelt beside her sister. "Where are the others?"
"We saw the vegen overhead and sent them toward the river," Laric whispered, eyes searching the darkening forest for pursuers. "When it headed back toward Rhema, Damyn and I backtracked to wait for you -- we weren't sure you'd come."
"Don't --!" Maygra's voice was a harsh whisper, as she pushed feebly at Damyn's hands. "They'll find us -- got to move," she gasped struggling to her feet, but her she could no longer feel her legs and she fell into Damyn's arms again fighting him off as he tried to examine her face.
Mikayl restrained him, grasping the Healer's hands and cutting off his protest. "Those flying monsters are tracking us through our Gifts, Dami," he said. "It came after Mag and I when I tried scanning for you. It's still attacking where we were."
"It won't take it long to follow," Laric broke in urgently and picked up Maygra's pack, helping Damyn pull the woman to her feet. She sagged between them, cursing her weakness.
"G'on. Go east -- cut back," she managed to gasp out as the shadows grew darker in her vision. "I' c'nt find me -- no g . . . gift to sense."
"Don't be a fool, Mag!" Damyn snapped, pulling her to her feet again. "We're not leaving you -- so either walk or I'll carry you."
Maygra groaned and clutched his arm, wincing in pain as the Healer pulled her injured arm over his shoulder, Mikayl supporting her on the other side. Darkness wavered before her as she forced her watery legs to move. Laric led them, carrying Maygra's discarded pack as he sought out the least tangled path to follow.
The journey was lost in the shadows for Maygra. She was blind, relying on Mikayl and Damyn to guide her, pain in every slow movement. She could hear their muffled voices, encouraging her then cursing when her legs would give way beneath her and they would have to drag her forward until she could force the limbs to move again. She was only vaguely aware of more voices and the touch of cool water on her face. She could smell wood smoke and urged her kinfolk to run, the fire was upon them. Hands held her, trapping her against the ground and new pain pierced her cloudy mind as knives cut into her skin, pulling back the flesh on her face to reveal her skull, jaws open and screaming . . . then lifting her still living body and throwing her toward the fire in the wood.
Damyn fell back against Mikayl, his face as white as Maygra's. Beneath his outstretched hands Maygra was quiet, her nightmare-strengthened struggles forgotten in the peace of a Healer-induced sleep. Not daring to use their Gifts, Damyn and Sura had first tried to clean the gashes on her face by more mundane methods, lancing the swollen skin to release the trapped blackened blood and bathing the wounds with herb-laced water. Her fever had risen dangerously, her breathing growing shallow and tortured as the poisons from the n'gari's claws filtered through her body.
Damyn and Sura had ordered the others on, planning to wait until they were far enough away their Gifts, if they attracted the airborne trackers, would not endanger their companions.
Jael and Mikayl vetoed the idea. The compromise had been a risky one; Jael tight-Shielding Maygra and Damyn, tapping his brother and Mikayl's strength to contain Damyn's Gift and the physical presence of the group. The plan had not brought the vegenen, but had left them in a state not much better than Maygra's. Jael was gray and trembling from the strain and Damyn near-unconscious from trying to force-heal his kinswoman. Laric kept an uneasy watch, every sound edging tightly strung nerves dangerously. A rustling nearby sent him into near-panic before he realized it was only Osra stirring feebly on her litter, disturbed by the cries of a nightbird.
"We've got to move," he said anxiously, shouldering one of the packs, "get across the river."
"They can't, Laric," Sura said, rising to her feet. "They're exhausted -- we haven't been found yet. Perhaps we won't be."
"We have to, Sura. Look," he said and pointed, already a red glow could be seen in the distance and the air was tinged with the sharp, clear scent of burning leaves. "If those creatures don't find us, the fire will. I don't know which would be worse. We can't stay, Masyra, and it's already been made clear no one will be left behind."
Sura stared at him, disliking the stony set of his face. Mikayl stared at him in shock as well, glancing at Maygra, unconscious and still against the forest floor. His eyes shifted to Maia who had not moved from where Jael had set her hours before. Her face was still blank, arms lax, her infant son sleeping in the cradle of her skirts. Laric's tone of voice, cold and flat, sent a chill up his spine.
"Who would you leave, Laric? Your brother? Osra? Maygra?" Sura snapped. "Or all of us? Goddess below! We are all that is left of our people and you can contemplate leaving some of us behind?"
"No one will be left behind, Sura," he said icily, deliberately avoiding looking at the unconscious woman at his feet. "She told us to go but you would have none of that, willing as you were to stay with her."
"You can't mean that, Laric!" Jael exclaimed, half rising behind Damyn.
Sura laid a hand on Jael's shoulder. "He means it, Jai, Goddess forgive him."
"I'm not the one who will need Aessa's forgiveness," Laric snarled. "I have no infant's blood on my hands!"
"There was no choice!" Damyn's voice was harsh as he lurched to his feet, grasping the front of Laric's tunic to pull himself upward. "Don't you think she would have found another way if there had been one?" he rasped. "We couldn't save them, Laric."
"We should have tried harder!" Laric roared and pushed the Healer away, only Mikayl keeping him from falling. "And you aided her -- agreed with her!" Laric said and suddenly grabbed Renn, watching the argument from beside Kiva. The boy cried out, startled, struggling, but Laric pinned his arms. The violence set Kiva off and she squealed in surprise and fright, burying her head against Sura's leg, the sudden anger tainting the air finally giving her a voice. Laric dropped to one knee beside the boy arm around his waist. "Could you have killed him, Damyn? Sura? One of your own?"
"I don't know, " Damyn said softly, his eyes on his brother. "But I pray, if he'd been taken -- someone would have."
"There was no time, Laric," Jael said dully, rising and gripping his brother's arms, his eyes fever bright. "We all heard them, felt their terror and their fear -- better they are dead than we carry their echo forever."
"Had Rhema survived, she would be put to the sword for what she did," he snarled, pulling away from his brother and releasing Renn. "We do not kill our own! Have you forgotten your Oaths? `Turn no hand against thy brother or sister, serve no evil purpose and swear faith to none who would do so.' Yet you would treat her as a savior!"
"And you think it was easily done?" Damyn asked softly. "You are a fool, Laric. I will not censure her for what she did -- I had not the courage to take such a burden; I have not the right to judge her."
"You, however, seem to think you do have the right," Sura said harshly. "Very well, I am guilty as well for I think she needs no forgiveness. I see no conflict with my Oath."
"Then we are all damned, for by my Oath, I won't abandon you," Laric hissed and glared at her, but her gaze was as hard-set as his, and there was no yielding in her. He swore softly and turned away, grabbing up one of the salvaged swords and began cutting a sapling, indicating Mikayl should cut another. In moments they had a crude litter, saplings lashed together and wrapped in blankets. Mikayl eased Maygra onto the frame, setting one pack beneath her legs and tying the other to the top of the frame, before slipping the makeshift harness over his shoulders. Damyn took a moment to check her condition, frowning, but he nodded when Mikayl lifted the end of the litter. Before the Healer could move away, Mikayl slipped the small blade he had salvaged from the healing rooms.
"What's this?" Damyn asked staring at the blade as if he had never seen it.
"It's yours," Mikayl said impassively, watching as Jael took the straps of Osra's litter, allowing Sura to carry his infant son and guide Maia.
"I lead," Laric said coolly and not waiting for anyone to question. Not sure what else to do, Damyn stuck the thin blade in the sash of his tunic. Mikayl stared after him thoughtfully, not sure what to make of the Healer's behavior.
They moved slowly, resting frequently. The terrain was uneven and treacherous in the dim light filtering through the trees and they tired easily. When they left the scent of wood smoke behind, a cleaner scent of water caressed their weary souls. Dawn found the forest changing subtly, the trees older with thick roots thrusting into the damp soil and the heavy sound of moving water echoing off the great trunks.
Laric called a halt between two of the great trees. New growth had not yet filled the distance between the arching roots. He gathered their flasks and pulled cleaner clothes from one of the packs before seeking fresh water. He returned with full flasks, dark hair matted, a bundle of dripping leathers under one arm to find Mikayl keeping a weary watch over his sleeping companions. He set his wet clothes to dry over one of the arching roots and offered to take the guard, but Mikayl shook his head, watching the archer warily.
"I won't slit her throat," Laric growled, flinging himself down beside his sleeping brother. "I'll even promise to wake Sura if she stirs," he added more gently.
Mikayl hesitated then rose, following Laric's example and taking a clean tunic before stumbling toward the river. It was not far, the water flowing steadily between wide steep banks, occasionally tumbling over close growing roots. One of these leaned far over the water, roots half pulled from the bank and offering a handhold down to the water's edge. Below him, where the river began to turn toward its run through the southern half of the hulden, he could barely make out the rocks and boulders marking the edge of the headlands.
Footprints marked Laric's passage and Mikayl followed, discovering the same roots provided a pool of trapped, slower water. He stripped quickly, rubbing his stained clothing against the submerged root to get the worst of the blood and caked dirt from the leather before spreading it over the exposed trunk to dry. The water was frigid, stemming as it did from Itheron's peaks, and it smarted in cuts and scrapes he had all but forgotten. Once he grew accustomed to the chill, the water soon numbed his aching muscles and he might have remained longer save the openness of his position made him uneasy. Suddenly anxious, he crawled out of the water, pulling the light tunic over his head before gathering his boots and wet clothes.
Laric still watched, tensing a little until he recognized the youth. Wordlessly he passed the younger man bread and cheese he had rummaged out of one of the packs. Mikayl took them, eating without hunger, his eyes fixed on his sister's face. Maygra had not moved, her face falsely flushed with the rosy glow of the rising sun cutting through the canopy overhead, The cuts on her face were still red and warm to the touch but there was no sign of the swelling indicating infection. He tore a strip from one of her blankets and began bathing her face and arms, freeing her dark skin from the filth staining them almost black, but fatigue and the soft birdsong and distant gurgling of the river lulled him into a doze, arm protectively across her waist, face buried against her shoulder.
A movement woke him, the feeble motion accompanied by a moan. Bleary eyed, Laric was beside him, and Mikayl could not tell if the archer had just woken or if he were still fighting sleep. Maygra stirred again and true to his word, Laric wakened Sura.
The woman moved stiffly but she smiled reassuringly at Mikayl and had him hold his sister up so she could take water. She choked a little, but Sura stroked her throat until she swallowed, then had to keep the woman from drinking too fast.
"Easy, kira, you've been ill," she soothed, stroking the pale hair, until Maygra's eyes opened and tried to focus on the face behind the voice.
"Where --?" Maygra croaked then coughed and retched a little while Mikayl held her and Sura applied a cold, wet cloth to the back of her neck.
"We've reached the Ayr," Mikayl told her, easing her back against the blankets. "We're above the shoals, at the edge of the headlands. There were rocks below me on the river."
"We need to go west," she murmured, closing her eyes against the sunlight filtering through the trees. "West then north -- remember that, Mal, if I . . . ."
"You are over the worst of it, Maygra," Sura said gently. "It's weakness you feel now. Damyn Healed the worst --."
"Healed!" Maygra's gasp was raw and pained and she tried to rise but Sura pressed her back down and she turned wild eyes on her brother. "Didn't you tell them? Goddess, we can't stay here, Mal. They'll find us. We have to--."
"Jael tight Shielded, Mag, and we moved immediately afterwards. We've seen no sign of pursuit."
"They are blind, not mindless, Mal!" she snapped and winced, her head aching and her thoughts chaotic. "If we're above the headlands we must have come directly south," she said, her brow furrowing as she forced her tired mind to think. "The Hai'Karin can track as well," she gripped the litter, her eyes locking on her brother's. "And this thing would leave a trail a child could follow!"
With an oath, she threw off their restraining hands and sat up, almost passing out as her vision swam and dimmed. She gripped the edge of the litter tightly, willing the weakness to pass, finally opening her eyes to find the world had stopped spinning. "Wake them," she ordered tautly, using her brother's shoulder to gain her feet. She lurched forward and caught herself against the tree. "We'll go along the river then cut back north,"
"North!" Laric said, rising to his feet unable to contain his anger. "Have you lost your mind? They are behind us here!"
"I know that, but they will come this way and take their time with the trail we left. They will think we crossed Ayr Rive and continue southward. We can be past the breach at Itheron's base and into the northern headlands before they realize we've changed direction," she said flatly.
"You are mad," Laric breathed. "We should have left you behind."
"Laric!" Mikayl warned, advancing on him, his eyes narrowed and fists clenched. "That's enough --."
"Be quiet, Mal," Maygra hissed, glaring at both men. "He's right -- you should have left me behind -- and grateful as I should be, it was idiocy to endanger your escape for me," she said and drew a shaky breath, her face softening a little at the stricken expression on her brother's face. "But I am grateful, little brother, and the only way to thank you is to make sure you live long enough not to regret the decision. Please, Mal. Wake them. If we only reach the headlands, the rocks will obscure our trail somewhat."
"It's too open, " Laric argued, "we can be spotted for miles."
"They are looking for us in the south," Maygra insisted. "If we go far enough, we'll be in the path of the A'denna Gul. The rocks of the Shattered Mountains can shelter us as well as these trees, better because we'll leave no tracks. Or you can stay here and let the vegen or the Hai'Karin find you," she added harshly, her eyes locking with Laric's in a battle as violent as the one they had faced at Rhema. Maygra knew she courted disaster, for Laric was testing her command as surely as he ever had within the Watch. The ease of their defeat had set him against her for all time and she did not blame him for the hatred she saw burning in his dark eyes. But she would use all her cunning and instinct to keep them safe even if she had to drag his broken body behind her.
She was in no condition to fight him but there were other methods. Mikayl would follow wherever she led and she saw the same trust in the eyes of Damyn and Sura. Only Jael might waver, but he would not abandon Maia and the Healers were his only chance to bring her back to herself.
Laric saw Maygra's assessment of her strengths and almost gave in to the rage threatening overwhelm him. He thought Maygra would lead them to their deaths but he was as fierce in his loyalties as she to hers, and he had taken his Oath in a faith equal to his anger and that faith cautioned him against turning his hand to her. He quelled the hatred and turned away. There was no defeat in him, only a grudging acknowledgment that, for now, they would follow where Maygra led.
GLOSSARY
A'del'eva:..............Literally: "By your oaths to Aessa" A war cry and a summons. (think au seccors)asa:........................Literally: Truth. an affirmative as in, "yes" or "is it not so?"
Graen:....................pl. Mountains, (also Grae; Mountain)
hait:........................ "To Me" or "Here", imperative, a summons.
kira'sai:...................f. sister, little sister, beloved sister, [familial]
kira:........................f. little one, child (diminutive)
kiri:........................m.little one, child (diminutive)
kiri'nai:...................m.brother, little brother, beloved brother [familial]
Makyera:................f. First, as in a title.
Makyera Gen:........as in First Sword a title, overall commander ot the Watch (also: gen... sword, shield, defense)
Masyra-Maena:......f. title of rank for females, equivalent of Lord-Master, title for a member of the Elder Council (or Lady-Master)
n'gari:.......................large lizards, desert scavengers, about the size of a rhonocerous, but looking more like komodo dragons.
Shadrai:...................Literally, Shadow Speaker.
shan'nai:.................m.Wise man or brother, an affectionate term of respect. Used between equals.
shan'sai:..................f.Wise woman or sister, an affectionate term of respect. Used between equals.
theris:.......................fruit bearing tree native to Elerak and the Eastern Plains, rather like a pulpy pomegranate
uralen:.....................pl. Ural; a large cliff dwelling bird, average wingspan is about 20 feet, scavengers mostly.
varin:........................a breed of extremely stocky, sure-footed horses, powerful bodies but small heads. (pl. varinen)
vegen:........................historically they were small leather-winged creatures, not unlike bats, but with elogated snouts and long flattened tails used as messengers for the gods. (pl. vegenen)