[Flashback] From Dusk Till Dawn (Shai)

[Jamisia Abijah]

13th day of Summer, 507 AV Nights..Nights were the coldest. Even in Summer. It was not even late but the Sun was slowly hiding behind the horizon. Jamisia picked up her pace to our run the incoming dusk and return home under Pillar of Dust. She didn't feel safe in the richer districts, filled with Ephyrians and Dhani, that treated every human like a dirt on their expensive shoes. The poor's Pillars were her home and not many dared to attack a healer's apprentice. There was not much such help you could get there so every doctor had their weight measured in gold. At least her aunt would repeat that. It had been a year since her father's passing and Jamisia began to leave the grief behind but the anger was still there. Boiling close to the surface. If she was born Ephyrian her life would be so much easier. The young teen features constricted with anger at the thought of all the injustice she was brought up in. Jamisia was so wrapped up in her own rumination she didn't notice that the moon began to rise and it was getting dark. And nights in Ahnatep were not for the young healer apprentices. Oddly enough it was not the poor and lawless that threatened her the most but the noble Ephyrians and Dhani who could do whatever they wanted with a lone human and no one would raise a finger. Her steps became more and more frantic, breaking into the run. Not far..One more alley and she would enter her home district. Her dress was Ephyrian in design, though fitted human frame very well. It made her also to stand out a bit, as not a typical human lowlife. It sometimes drew unwanted attention, but Jamisia refused to wear rags. Half of the Ephyrians were useless, drinking bums, why would she, a future healer, wear a potato sack. The girl run down the stairs, passing a most likely Dhani on her way. The creature threw her a hungry look but left alone. Maybe it was not its feeding time. Jam shuddered in a disgust, her eyes trailed off after the snake, to see if the monster would decide to go after her. The human's preoccupation with the potential attacker, completely averted her attention from the danger more at hand. Suddenly she felt her body bumping into something that yelped and pushed her away. Two Ephyrians, from the look of their clothes, not the wealthiest lower tier of the Ephyrian society, but nevertheless a heaven and Earth higher than her. Jamisia frowned and wanted to pass by the two males but one of them grabbed her with one of six arms. ”What about apologies, girl?” He sneered right to her ear. His companion chuckled wickedly at Jamisia's misery and said something in Arumenic the girl didn't understand well but didn't like it nonetheless. ”Let go of me, benachag .” She responded in Common and added a juicy curse in Shiber. The Ephyrian pushed her back on the nearest wall with a snarl of anger with a promise in Arumenic to teach her a lesson in humilty. ”Know your place, chupra.” The four armed male added; Jamisia immediately knew her tongue and brash attitude had gotten her into troubles.

[Abashai]

It was Abashai's second trip to Ahatep. His first visit to the Eypharian city was five years ago. He was young, struggling to survive in the Burning Lands after his self-imposed exile from Yahabah. Yahal was far from him then, or so he had thought. In reality, it was Shai who had drifted from the god of his people. back then, the young benshiran was wracked with guilt and shame, without purpose and direction. That is how he had wound up in Ahnatep the first time. It was where he got his tattoos at the hands of an old Drykas in the Pavilion. The Shiber characters inked on his forehead and cheekbones, and the Broken Bands on his wrists, were all traditional symbols rooted in the liberation of the Benshira from Eypharian slavery during the Valterrian. It was a daring move, to sport such markings in the city of the Eypharians. Much had transpired since then. Yahal had called him, marked him and given him purpose. Even if that purpose was just to follow the next step in a journey, its destination known only to the Holy One. He had stopped in the city for supplies and to replenish his arsenal of arrows. Wiser than the young man that had walked the streets of Ahnatep five years ago, Abashai avoided the more common locales, knowing his appearance could aggravate the haughty eypharians. It was for this reason that Abashai's path took him near the Pillar of Dust. Though the denizens of the area were not the most savory, or harmless, they were less likely to give him trouble for simply being benshiran. As he walked along, he overheard a bit of conversation, the voice of a male, followed by the distressed sound of a woman who spoke a shiber curse. Curious, Shai continued around the corner on the worn flagstone path. There he saw the two eypharians and the human woman they were harassing. She was dressed in eypharian garb, finer that what most citizens in this part of the city wore. perhaps she was one of the eypharian's slaves, though she was too well dressed, her skin unmarred by the abuse slaves often received. By the tone of his words, and the grimace on his face, there was no doubt in Abashai's mind that the eypharian meant to do the woman harm. An indignation rose within him, an anger at the bullying eypharians. Though he controlled his ire, adrenaline shot through his body, and he began to harness the ennervism Yahal had gifted to him. "Leave her alone." Shai spoke with a firm, controlled voice, thick with a shiber accent. The eypharian holding the woman against the wall turned to look at Shai, his face twisted in hate. "What business is it of yours, chupra. Run back into your desert and mate with your goats." The four armed-eypharian guffawed at his companion's insult and added, "Does she belong to you, desert rat? I think not, even as a dust-licking benshiran whore she is too good for you." Abashai inhaled deeply, his fists clenching and unclenching as he felt his strength increase as quickly as his fury. His voice cut the dry desert air in a deadly tone. "She is not mine, nor is she yours. Leave her alone." Abashai, not considering it until that moment, was outnumbered and far out-armed. But concern for the stranger outweighed wisdom, and he stood his ground. The desert wanderer's eyes darted to the woman. She did not appear benshiran, her skin too light, her eyes not bright like his people. But there were subtleties to her features that hinted at benshiran heritage. He was impressed, for the woman did not seem gripped by fear, but more by indignation. Now that was a benshiran trait.

[Jamisia Abijah]

13th day of Summer, 507 AV She didn't want to give in, to just let these four arm monsters do as they pleased. Anger and fear entwined in her into fury. Jamisia easily lost temper, even if it would mean losing her life as a consequence. Was it that bad? In Ahnatep there were worse things than death, like becoming an Eypharian plaything. ”Filthy scumbag!” She yelled out and was rewarded with a violent slap to the face. Stars lit in front oh her eyes. Eypharians were not stronger than humans, but it didn't mean Jamisia could shake off such blow. Blood trickled from her nose, down chin but the girl refused to give up. She was about to spit on one of her tormentors when deep voice interrupted. The man was tall, not as an Eypharian could be, but not someone you could easily ignore. His face was covered in tattoos. Jamisia immediately recognized the mas as a Benshira. Dark skin and bright eyes, visible even in the last rays of the goddess. A wave of relief washed over her as she understood that the man was trying to free her. She was not a Benshira, her father had been but all she had was basic of Shiber and few scrapes of knowledge about the desert humans. Jamisia tried to struggle some more but the Eypharian was holding her tightly pressed to the wall. The six armed one laughed wholeheartedly at the stupid slaves' son that had dared to challenge lords of the Eyktol. Jamisias' eyes narrowed; flared with inner fire. Like something was guiding her she raised her knee and kicked the four armed Eypharian right where no male of any species liked to be hit. The attacker let out a high pitched whimper; his eyes squinted and all blood seemed to escape from his face. ”After that you will be able to mate only with goats.”Jamisia sneered at this, feeling amazing satisfaction flowing from this experience, forgetting that the Eypharian was not alone. The other was already preparing his gladius to cut the both humans in half.

[Abashai]

A thick tension descended upon the scene, a moment of electric silence as the Abashai breathed out his command. His eyes darted to the woman, a trickle of blood from her nose and lip proving that the eypharians had struck her. The thought of them abusing the girl ignited a righteous anger. The supernatural strength, a blessing from Yahal, coiled up, and released. Abashai lunged at the four-armed eypharian holding the human. As if the girl had seen some cue in the benshiran's eyes, she brought her knee up sharply into her assailant's crotch. The eypharian doubled over in pain, spewing arumenic curses in a strained voice. The benshiran saw six-arm reach for the short sword at his side. Redirecting his momentum, he hip-checked four-arm, hoping to throw him off balance, or better yet... to the ground, before turning toward six-arm. Reaching to grasp the eypharian's sword arm, his other fist cocked back and struck out at the swordsman's jaw. The eypharian shifted and Abashai failed to seize the sword hand, but his fist connected with the man's chin, with the divine strength of two men behind it. The man's head snapped to the side with a crack, his jaw dislocating. The swordsman staggered back, howling in pain, his six arms flailing. Shai took advantage of the moment and reached in to take out the khopesh concealed under his long coat. But his enemy recovered quickly, the burly eypharian apparently a stalwart character. He raised his gladius and swung it swiftly down at Abashai. The benshiran's iron blade came out, but not in time for a good parry, only deflecting the eypharian's blade. The broad, short blade slid down that of the khopesh and glanced off of Abashai's shoulder, slashing through his garments and opening a gash in his flesh. He growled, the pain sharp but dulled by the incredible determination afforded him by Yahal's gnosis. He stepped back, trying to secure enough distance to use his heavy sword.

[Jamisia Abijah]

13th day of Summer, 507 AV Violence was not something Jamisia was used to, even as a human in Ahnatep. There was something frightening in this, that would make her freeze still. The woman watched the spectacle of death, unable to move a single muscle in her body. She shrieked hearing a loud, sickening crack, immediately knowing that the Eypharian would likely die as a result from that punch or live horribly disfigured. Her eyes trailed off to notice blood gashing from her attacker's mouth. As an healer apprentice Jamisia had seen a fair share of wounds but witnessing one being made made her nauseous. ”Yahal, save me.” The girl muttered , stepping back on weak legs. A sharp grunt of pain made the girl to recover her senses. The mysterious Benshiran stumbled, although Jamisia couldn't see the wound. Her next reaction was faster than any rational thought. The young human woman free from her initial shock threw herself at the back of the last Eypharian. Knocking him on the ground. Smell of an unwashed Eypharian body and grains of sand hit her nostrils, but there was also a reward – a scream of surprise and pain. By the sound of a crack, hopefully he broke at least one rib. Apparently even with something broken, the Eypharians were able to fight since one of his arms grabbed Jamisia and threw her off his backs, cursing in his native tongue. Her head hit the rocky surface and white explosion of pain appeared in front of her eyes. There was ringing in her ears, as the world whirled around. For a moment Jamisia couldn't make up where she landed or what was going, hopefully the Benshiran was winning or both their lives would end abruptly.

[Abashai]

Abashai resisted the urge to reach for his wounded shoulder. In a fight, such a reaction could leave one open for further attack. The laceration was not deep, but was bleeding freely. So the benshiran grit his teeth and faced off with his eypharian opponent, trying to drive away the pain. The sword-wielding eypharian swayed a bit, his eyes glassy with the agony of his mangled jaw. Abashai tried to gauge what was going on between the girl and the other thug. His answer came in the corner of his eye, as she saw the woman lunge at the other eypharian and knock him down. Taking advantage of Abashai's moment of distraction, his foe swung his gladius again at the desert wanderer. Shai raised his sickle-sword again, this time meeting the short sword squarely and deflecting the blow. Several more volleys took place, each antagonist trying to find an opening in the others defense, the clang of iron on iron echoing off the nearby walls. Finally the weakening eypharian made a last, desperate lunge at Abashai. With a clever twist, he caught the benshiran off guard, striking the heavy sword near the hilt and driving it from Shai's hand. The weapon was flung away to land in the dust, out of reach. Two of the eypharian's hands grabbed at Abashai's coat, a third gripping his wounded shoulder. The Ahnatepite's sword hand raised to deliver a deadly backhand strike at his neck. Wincing and grunting at the jolt of severe pain in his shoulder, Shai raised one hand to try to block his attacker's sword arm, the other finding the handle of the dagger in his belt. With a quick flick, Abashai drew the curved blade and thrust it into the eypharian's stomach. Driven by the ennervism still coursing through the benshiran, the blade sunk into the attacker's soft belly all the way to the hilt, releasing a gush of blood and fluid that spilled over Shai's hand and soaked the eypharian's garments. His hands released Abashai, the gladius dropping from his hand to clatter to the ground. The eypharian's eyes were wide with disbelief, and, staggering back as his many arms clutched at his mortal wound, Shai watched the life run from the man, who eventually dropped to his knees then to his face, still and lifeless. Panting, Abashai looked over to see the woman lying on the ground, dazed it seemed, the other many-armed assailant looming over her, clutching his side. The benshiran, bloody dagger still in his grasp, staggered towards the last eypharian.