Blade of Queens

Chapter 2 | Jash

JASHIYA "JASH" ANDRSONN

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Jash always remembered his vows.

Being a warrior meant more to him than anything.

From the ripe age of twelve, every youngling, including Jash, dreamt of the fearless men who rode to the ends of the world to protect their home. While the other young boys squealed with excitement over choosing the day when they could wield their weapon and choose their mounts, Jash wanted to share the glory of eternal life in the Heavens with the very same men he'd pray to every night. He believed that was the true honor of becoming a Night Warrior, a guardian of Gaia's tribe.

He never forgot his duty to the tribe. Chosen as a young boy, Jash became a protector of the Gaian way.

Eventually, he'd come to know the true glory of being a Night Warrior—sacrifice. His childish dreams faded into a tiny speck while distant nightmares came to life. Duty-bound by blood, Jash tried his best to uphold his vows, but something worrisome grew inside his warrior's heart.

And every moon night to come, Jash would question his real purpose as the leader of the Night.

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The men of the Night said nothing as they sat quietly. Their long southwind travel stole away the strength to form any meaningful talk.

Jash looked up at the tiresome faces of the Night as he stood near the grazing mkyu. He mentally took count of the small group in front of him. Myles. Voe. Rahan. Every fighting man in camp took some sort of role. Even the youngling took watch at the South Hand borders.

Four days of trekking through thick trees and then hot sand, seemed like an endless journey. Thirst and famine nearly wiped out the boys during their travels. On the third day, their water dried up and the men fought childishly over the last slice of boar jerky.

Jash didn't account for the amount of food and water they really needed. Afterall, he was the same boy who starved for one or two weeks in protest.

Plus, the dry heat boiled their blood too—just enough for them to get testy with each other. They were lucky to find a spot to set up camp by sunset.

Rahan, who sat near a pile of rocks, finally broke the silence.

"Something ain't right," Rahan took a pebble between his fingers and eyed the stone. After a few seconds, he pocketed the stone.

"The stars are finally falling from the Heavens!" Myles, the rowdy of the bunch, laughed. Most days, Myles disregarded the faith of Gaia

Little did Myles know, time's were indeed changing. Kazikosi spoke of danger. Rumors of treachery plagued Chaoria. Jash knew. Not from the ailing words of an old croon, but from the winds. From the moment they set foot off camp, the winds howled. The hellish winds raged with warning, the further they rode north.

Danger set all around South Hand.

Not only were the free territories of South Hand buried deep beneath its burning sand, the Kingdom of Bastille laid viciously at the end of the southern border. Jash knew there were a handful of Zuhl soldiers stationed not too far from their camp. He took great countermeasures to stifle their presence, setting base about a day's ride into the mountains. No one in their right mind would ride through the bumpy hills into the wasteland, even if they knew how to navigate the land.