Water of Life

[Kira Astraeus]

Water of Life

51st of Ashan
East City Gate
Warm Weather, Clear Skies, Morning, Windy.

M

uch further west then they’d been for seasons, Nirahan's caravans were stopped at Nashaki’s Eastern Gate. Not as if their merchants weren’t usually welcome, only delayed, Kira wondered if Nashaki considered nomads delay to their impending doom, buying their city time before Eternal soldiers walked in their front gate; Nirahan traders often found their supply caravan gifted leftover steel at their exit from Nashaki, aid to assist them slow their mutual enemies probably. Kiara straightened up, her horse rocking gently at her side, her beast finding precious edible sustenance from weeds below her.

Qi’ora here needed to come out forcefully to have chance at expelling their Hotland’s invaders. Too content behind their walls and shield of neutrality to face their judgement under their sun's watchful rays. Kira glared, delay gave Nirahan’s Desert Runner discomfort, leaving her tribe to trade meant leaving them to whatever befell her people.

“Come on,” she said bluntly, which just made guards ahead of her take longer, she was sure they were trying her patience.

Arrayed in weather clothes, markings of her tribe and people strewn across them; Kira’s long blond hair drifted behind her, her thighs firmly gripping her horses sides to stay balanced. She found impatience here, impatience that everyone around her could be doing more, instead of like sheep herded inside their fences, just hoping their danger would evaporate before them.

Nirahan’s caravan was allowed entry, five carts, gifts and items for trade. Water was always what they hoped for, Nashaki’s oasis ever more precious with Imperial’s thrusting southwards to cut of other supplies. Several Nirahan did not look well, thin, malnourished, ribs on show for those that cared enough to look long enough at outsiders.

Clicking her horse to a stop with her heel, tribals began to dismount and bartering began. Kira was no merchant, she had no desire to trade, she raided for what she needed. If only water was ever plentiful enough to raid, what she wouldn’t give to hear of a water caravan’s route. Nirahan being forced into their Hotlands fully meant they were dying, trial by trial less and less nomad's had strength to travel or fight.

Her immortal Raskalarn was steadfastly defending her southern border. Desperate Nirahan had said there should be one final push, their last chance to break Imperial hold over their once hunting ground. Suicide to go alone, as trials wore on and throats became drier, suicide didn’t seem so stupid an idea. Any chance of success was a chance to test herself, and live or die trying she would have given her all.

[Kira Astraeus]

P

assing nomads could not hope to access city wells guarded by cultists of Chamadarst. Best Kira could do was trade for what little scraps of water she and her san, or kin in common tongue, could get for their wares. Wares which had no shortage of targets as of late. Bones from Vri’s wandering undead were of use, and caravans had used breaks in wartime, opportunistic moving after Cylus’s lifting cold to break for the city. Anyone trading much needed fruits or food here was soon making more than fair coin, for raiders many caravans meant their pick of loot; for Nirahan selling their taken loot was only usually done with surplus, today their trading was done for survival.

Nirahan had only base skill in bartering, what they had wasn’t as valuable as what they wanted, water and food, fortunately for our desert nomads they had much loot to trade!

Kira jealously looked upon those around her, not for their clothes or weapons, those she would take for herself. She looked jealously that few children were starving, she could not know many would have perished during their bitter winter; all Kira saw were those children fed well enough to live through that same winter, while her own people teetered on their brink of collapse.

All she could do was restrain herself from just looting stalls around her. Many Nirahan had hungry looks in their eyes, disciplined enough to wait till they returned to camp to share their goods. At least they should be, she spotted one Desert Runner stuffing his face with fruit! Trotting her horse over to him, she looked up, so he looked up wondering what she was staring at, and she punched him square in his jaw, knocking him off his horse.

Laughter echoed around, eating before others wasn’t a laughing matter to Kira. Their Desert Centaurus wasn’t with them today, named in his stead was his Chosus, or choice in the common tongue, picked to represent him when he was elsewhere. Their Chosus seemed to find Kira knocking one of their number off his horse hilarious. Almost everyone eventually saw a funnier side to their rough nature even those watching, people who at first were worried about Nomad’s causing a scene in their market. Kira’s hard ass look eventually became what passed for grinning, and dropping off her horse she helped her weary Desert Runner back up. She was a bitch but she was fair.

[Kira Astraeus]

H

er friend handed her his half bitten fruit, she wiped it clean and put it with the rest of them. Goods were loaded up and predictably one local criminal tried to make a break with these stranger nomad’s swords, and a loaf of bread! “Mine.” Kira said happily, she could use the exercise.

Her kid she chased was quick she’d give him that, pushing through crowded streets, Kira kept on his heels. Desert Runners had to be true to their name! He ran tumbling into a man carrying a bunch of clothes who ended up in a heap. Kira caught up and smiled, “that it?” The kid held on to Nirahan’s sword and bread well enough, scampering off while their cloth carrying merchant hurled obscenities.

Up and over a small wall her wily teen’arcer jumped, grazing his knee as he did so. Kira also struggled to get a grip and almost slid down smooth stone. Ending up in someone’s backyard, walls here were too high to climb, and their door to the house locked. Whether Kira was bothered she was trespassing or not she didn’t give away her feelings. Nomad’s didn’t exactly have the same concept of private land after all.

Prowling around like some proverbial wild cat hunting for her lunch, Nirahan’s Desert Runner upturned boxes, moved barrels and was fast running out of places he could be hiding. Didn’t seem the place or time for ghostly apparitions behind white sheets, she walked up looking at nothing in particular, and then suddenly pulled away his white covering, finding one shivering scared young teen’arcer underneath.

“Having fun yet?” Kira was playing with him, he was admitting defeat, holding up her bread and sword hoping she’d be merciful. Kira took her tribe’s sword back, and sliced portion of her bread enough for him to eat, he thanked her and she could see hunger in him, hunger her tribe knew so well. Sitting against a wall beside him, Nirahan’s Desert Runner watched him eat, saving her own bread for someone who needed food more.

She didn’t have much to say, life told story enough for most people. Sharing moments of rest there in that sandy backyard, the boy perked up first. “I am Danius,” he said in Umaya. Kira smiled, “Kira.” Next he said something she didn’t recognize, then said “you are nomad?” Kira looked at her sword, then rubbed her hands free of sand, cleaning them on her knee. “Yes.”

That was more conversation than most got from her.

“Can I be nomad?” His broken common caught her ears. Danius reached for her sword, Kira paused and then passed it over. The young Arc’ling swung and swung trying to appear the greatest warrior to grace her desert’s sands. Endearing to watch him try so hard, she grinned at his attempts, until he hit a box behind him and got her blade stuck.

At this clattering of boxes, out stepped someone from their backyard’s door, none too pleased…

[Kira Astraeus]

“Vagrants, sand dwellers go! Leave my home or they will string you up!”

K

ira stood up to her full height which was not altogether small at 6ft 4, looking downward her expression was stonefaced, and she stayed that way, not flinching. The home’s owner became flustered expecting some sort of acknowledgement, even the arcling by her side didn’t move.

After some pause, “I mean, yes, that’s right. I’ll be inside.” The door closed behind their blustered stranger. Saying less often meant more, and Kira said almost nothing to anyone, because she had almost nothing to say.

Taking her sword back from rogue boxes, she shook off any splinters and walked back as she’d come, beginning to push up over their stone wall. “Coming?” She ask the teen’arcer, and both of them made their way back to Nirahan’s caravan. Some arguments with well cultists on the proper valuing and respect of their city's water was underway; it seemed to Kira towers again were trying to extort strangers for more coin. Coin was plentiful compared to water fortunately, each raider allowed only one mouthful. Coming to take hers, wet refreshment was very slowly drunken from her waterskin, enjoying every second of having her sore throat relieved.

You learned to savour each drop; elder’s had taught her to drink for longer but slowly, giving her body time to use each life giving drop of water she received. Finishing up, she handed her waterskin to her arcling in tow, “slowly.” She watched him snatch her waterskin and had to teach him how to survive, if he were to come with them, he would need to know or perish. Fieldcraft strangers called it, their only fields here were made of glass.

Noticing her bruise from fighting Eternal’s, her arcling reached out to touch Kira’s head and she grabbed his wrist instinctively, before realising what she was doing.

“Does it hurt?” He asked in Umaya, and she let him go.

Kira didn’t want to spare him, if he came he would have to know. “Being a nomad.” She said in broken Umaya, no point leading him on that life would ever be easy, and by looks of his ribs life hadn't been easy for him so far either.

[Kira Astraeus]

“Tell them your Name.” Kira’s Umaya wasn’t improving much.

“Danius Petralis!” Her recruit said happily, going from homeless to being Nirahan in a matter of bits might seem strange, but he was accepted without so much more than a few hellos. These were nomads, those that travelled came and joined, they were not picky about taking outsiders who could survive their lifestyle, which many who tried didn’t. Kira wondered then and there to leave Danius, whether he’d be better off within these walls he knew. Looking down at his face, his hope and eyes alight her heart caved, and she patted her horses back for him to join her.

Danius’s eyes lit up, and she helped her recruit up to his seat behind her. With precious water behind Nirahan’s nomads, their small convoy made ready to move. “Danius Petralis,” she turned to him and he looked at her expectantly. She didn’t have anything to say, so she didn’t add anything. “Yes!” His young thin happy face made her usual stoic expression soften, and he clung to her for support, support he’d need in their coming trials ahead.

Kicking her horse, her mount swayed gently side to side. Usual looks were cast their way, disgusted expressions or relief they were leaving. Qi’ora traders enjoyed their goods but nobody was under much illusion that they weren’t all stolen from someone; knowing they were buying stolen goods they’d been haggled down as usual, but Nirahan's san'kin would have their water and some food, which would sustain them another season or two.

Reaching Nashaki’s city gate they were stopped again predictable, the guard’s probably were trying another shakedown. Kira rode up to them, this time toward their convoy’s front, pulling her horse sideways she looked downward. “Water.” She said simply in Umaya, and almost regretted it, water was like gold here. Waiting on edge to see what happened, it just so happened water was almost sacred too to this particular guard, who let Nirahan’s convoy leave without any further bother.

Stretching out before her were endless sands, familiar dry breeze of home blowing toward their convoy. "Home.” She told young Danius. A nomad’s home were endless ocean dunes, free to come and go as they pleased, that was their life. Beginning her journey back to their camp she was content, concerned to get home to see that others were protected. Everything was okay, until rocks started to be hurled their way, striking several of their horses and one or two of her san'kin.