Kaie |
"Too many damn pacifists," Kaie thought absently to herself, shrugging past the numerous bodies in the urban streets. All the time she had spent in Syliras and the only fights she saw were friendly jibes between knights. It had been over two years since she had seen serious blood spilled, and her hostility was beginning to boil. She was truly a Myrian down to her very bones, always immersed in fantasies of victory and triumph in battle. Were those not the same goals every teenager in Taloba held to this very day? Much can change in two years, but that one was highly improbable. Impossible even. Regardless, Kaie was tense and irritable as a result of the lack of action. Perhaps if one were to call her an adrenaline junkie, they wouldn't be too far off. She was adventurous to a fault, and her quests to prove her worth often got her into unsettling predicaments. Still, Kaie lived without regrets. Though accustomed to the presence of another creature at every waking moment, it was always refreshing to get away. To find a place where the bodies thinned out and empty space existed. She was determined now, more than ever, to find that fabled area. She sported her brown cloak as usual, the hood casting a thin shadow over her face to keep the sun at bay. Kaie was used to the heat, but her eyes still enjoyed refuge from the bright rays now and again. The weight of her gladius, which she concealed expertly behind her cloak, felt like a two ton stone. It was practically begging her to be unsheathed. To be brandished and swung in a thrilling match of skill. Both which were impossible with all these Knights around with their panties in a wad. Some days it was like an insignificant confrontation caused them to come running, to put down the disturbance of fragile peace. Didn't they know that peace was a relative state which fluxuated naturally? For how could there ever be peace if there was no war to compare it to? Finally it seemed she had enough distance from the Bazaar to allow her to move comfortably. About time. Brown eyes carefully observing her environment, she noticed this area of the citadel was relatively unknown to her. She remembered the storm that ripped parts of the city apart, and since then she left this place to its own fate. Never taking a detour to bother checking it out for new progress. She could've turned around, that she knew, but the unknown was a dull excitement for her. It was something for her to occupy her unbridled mind with. That enthusiasm only increased when she heard calls of gamblers. One thing she had come to learn was that where there were gamblers, there were worthwhile events. Naturally, Kaie followed the shouts zealously, carrying herself confidently across the street to where she found a rare treasure. Upon moving closer, she found that a crummy, old sign signified a training pit. How did she not discover this place before? Her own idiocy astounded her sometimes. The arena was a deep pit far below her, a decent drop that allowed a large audience to spectate. The walls were an orangey tan, crumbling and deteriorated. It bore clear wounds from the abuse it suffered the year prior. Finding a nearby wall, the Myrian woman came to a halt beside it, allowing her shoulder to lean against the vertical surface. Back now to the sun, she opted to remove her hood from her head. Her brown hair fell in curls and waves below her shoulders, bronzed skin seeming to almost glow in the light. It was easy to see who was engaged in the fighting and who was sitting on the sidelines. The gamblers were finishing up their final bets when she had arrived, turning their attention completely to the combatants. Following their captivated gazes, Kaie tuned in on three in particular. What she found caught her entirely off guard and she was enthralled by what she was seeing. A blonde woman gripping her cutlass, clearly aggravated by whatever skirmish had taken place, was closer to the center. A black human stood before his horse, confidence clear in his stature, jabbing with custom gauntlets. Although each was interesting to her, what had captured her attention so violently was the human's competitor. "Well I'll be damned..." Standing there with his back to her, stood undeniably, a Myrian man. Piercings could be found clearly about his face, she could see large earrings and was sure he held more on his face. He was inked just about everywhere on his body, skulls lining his back. Likely a symbol of confirmed kills in the name of their goddess he took great pride in. Now she could see why bystanders gawked in his direction, surprised by his presence. He was confident in a different way from the human, a more subtle arrogance he could dial into if he wished. She doubted anyone else would step up to challenge him if he won. Her initial shock was obvious as could be. Never had she set her sights on such a pure blooded Myrian, not since she was stuck in Syliras anyways. Not even a common passerby. Just when she began to wonder if Myri had in fact left her lost daughter, she sent one of her sons. Oddly enough, it wasn't just that the Myrian was there. Anyone could see his presence with their eyes. Somehow, she could feel. Finally came the realization: they were both marked by Myri. How could she forget the ancient rituals and such on her Coming of Age? She had filled her body with the bloodlines of every Myrian who had ever lived in Taloba, and the faith burned deep within her soul. It reminded her then, she was not alone. Quietly, she watched from afar, the ensuing battle. Worthy opponents facing off before an audience who had a stake in their fates. Each of their movements were commendable despite different backgrounds. May Myri guide his strikes. Biased by her birth, she held no doubts about the fruits of victory the Taloban man would indulge in momentarily. After all, they were seen only as bloodthirsty savages, right? |