For the last 500 years the empire of Aishinda has stood, formidable and unchallenged, as it conquered its neighbors, befriended its enemies and made enemies of its friends.
17 year old Ziggy Aden loves her country and has always dreamed of becomin...
Ziggy lifted her cupped hands and held them at eye level. The loose soil resting on her palms was damp and cool. An electric blue light, hazy and faint, flickered in a halo around the dirt and her hands. She watched it, intently, as the blue light flared bright before quickly fading away.
Ziggy let the dark earth trickle through her fingers back into the shallow hole she'd scooped it from only moments before. The musky sweetness of Dunia's Promise, an old reference to the land within the ancient borders of the Tajiran people, wafted on the dry breeze blowing across the plains. The familiar scent tickled Ziggy's nose as she inhaled deeply, centering herself for the fight that was soon to come.
"They're getting closer", she said softly as she stared off into the not so distant horizon. Seeing and unseeing at the same time.
Three riders on sturdy ponies had been following Ziggy since she'd left the last township two days ago. She had no idea who they were or what they wanted from her, but before the sun goddess, Rassa, retired for the evening Ziggy hoped to be rid of these 'shadow riders'.
Ziggy had made every conceivable effort to shake the three riders off her tail, but they seemed to know her next move as soon as she made it. Ziggy rode down overgrown back roads, sloshed through murky swamps and crept along every well concealed game trail she could remember from her late night study sessions of the old maps of Aishinda. She alternated between traveling by day and night; and made false tracks, sometimes riding her horse Wafiza for hours in one direction only to backtrack several miles before heading in a different direction.
Yet, the riders persisted. Always just out of sight and reach. Ziggy was supposed to have completed her mission and reported back to her squad leader two days ago.
She'd been riding in zigzags and circles for miles, always careful not to travel too long or too far in the direction of home. From her current position, nestled between two natural rock formations made of sandstone near the mouth of River Candace, Ziggy and her horse were only a half days ride away from her township.
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"We could make it to the academy gates before nightfall if we left right now," the road weary girl thought to herself.
Ziggy stood from her crouched position and dusted her hands against her thighs, leaving dark, blue tinged smudges on her leggings. She started stretching and warming up her muscles, just like she did every morning at sunrise conditioning. Working each muscle group, starting with her neck and shoulders, working her way down to her feet. She didn't know what may transpire within the next hour, but staying ready meant she didn't have to get ready.
Ziggy glanced over to her Fulani-bred horse grazing under a near copse of Jackalberry trees.
"We could ride, full gallop. The wind in our face, danger at our backs! You'd like that, wouldn't you Wafiza?" she yelled to her horse as she twisted her upper body, first clockwise then counter-clockwise.
