Chapter 1

Aishalla Corinpulla gazed out her window, her head tilted with forbidden curiosity. The village of Goutchai was not even three miles away, and their wall torches were burning brightly and wildly, as though to show the attitudes of the people that rested within the walls. She knew it was wrong to wonder about the village that insisted her family started a battle that killed many innocent bystanders, but the curiosity that ruled her grandmother’s heart was obviously a very strong part of hers.

Sighing in disappointment, she put her reading spectacles back on, and gazed at the novel before her. ‘Alischka was warm, her heart pounding, and her body prepared. Bartithlu placed himself, bringing her immense pleasure as well as himself, before leaving, and falling asleep at her side. THE END.’

Aishalla blinked, then shut the book with not a little annoyance. Her mother insisted that she was too young to be thinking of such things, and that what she had to read right now was more than enough of the knowledge that she would need for married life. What her mother didn’t know apparently, was that the party they were going to hold in a fortnight was for her twenty-third birthday, and it was high time she learned the facts of intimacy.

A knock came at her door, startling her from her thoughts. She put a piece of parchment over the book title, and said demurely, “Enter.”

Iana Kainja entered the room, a shy smile on her face. “It is time to retire mistress, a message from your mother.”

Aishalla rolled her eyes, but didn’t argue. She set her reading glasses aside, and blew out the lamp that was set on her table for better reading. As she did that, Iana had already retrieved a nightgown from her wardrobe. As she was assisted with undressing from her pink gown, Aishalla let her mind wander. Iana had only recently been married, but she had been a good servant and friend to Aishalla for years. Perhaps she could do a few things to help…

“Iana?”

“Yes mistress?” Iana said from her place at the wardrobe, pulling out a hook to hang the gown on for cleaning.

“Two things to that; first, stop calling me mistress! As long as you and I have been friends, I think we’re past the relationship of slave and mistress. And second, can you tell me about…”

Iana looked over at her as she slipped into the nightgown with a smile that stated she knew what her mistress meant. “About what, Aishalla?”

Aishalla blushed, already having second thoughts. Ladies did not speak of such things until after marriage, and certainly never with servants. But Iana was hardly a servant at all.

“That.”

Iana chuckled to the way Aishalla worded it. “Well, that all depends miss. What do you want to know?” Iana waited patiently, knowing that Aishalla was very unfamiliar with the subject.

Aishalla bit her lip, but quickly walked to her reading table to get her book and reading glasses. She settled on the bed, and put on her glasses with severe concentration as she searched for the ending. (A/N: Kind of dumb to go looking for something that’s always at the same spot huh? .)

“You see? Read this page.” Aishalla said, and handed the book to Iana as she made her way to the bed. Iana read it, her face reflecting the same emotion Aishalla felt. “You see? Is it at all accurate?”

“It’s ridiculous is what it is. I can’t believe your mother makes you settle for this.” Iana stated, plopping the book onto a lower part of the bed. With a reassuring pat, Iana nodded and winked. “I’ll get one of I can’t believe your mother makes you settle for this.” Iana stated, plopping the book onto a lower part of the bed. With a reassuring pat, Iana nodded and winked. “I’ll get one of my novels for you dear. Then you wont be so left out in the cold.”

Aishalla grinned her thanks, then handed Iana her reading spectacles to put away as she snuggled under the blanket.

Dimitri

Dimitri Barajen adjusted his evening jacket, and ran his hand through his hair again with a grimace. His servants placed a very disgusting oil in it to add sheen and ‘hold.’ That didn’t bother him as much as those idiotic slippers he was forced to wear. His head turned to them with a rueful glance. He much preferred his riding boots toward those disgusting gold-buckle-thirty-cadgles-slippers.

Borderline nauseous, he went to his window, and was struck by another unwanted emotion. Damned curiosity, something he got from his mother, began to enter his mind as the glow of the Tohkai torches lit the black night. The light was soft, like it was explaining the people that lived within the walls.

The town was always so quiet, and never as boisterous as his village tended to be at night-time. That, and many other factors made him question the idea that the Tohkai people started the war. He knew just as well as anyone that it was just about unquestionable that they began the fight. The woman that he was married to for not even three hours was killed because of the first attack. Granted, the marriage was arranged, and they had only just left the chapel, but it was a human life, and the life of a human being was not something to be played around with.

Tired of the subject already, Dimitri angrily stomped into the slippers, and walked out of his room.

Later

Dimitri stalked back into his room, kicking off the blasted slippers, removing his jacket, and quickly trotting over to the pitcher his servants had prepared so he could wash his face and scalp. “Gods…” He murmured. Tomorrow would be better. Tomorrow, he could leave the village walls again to take a break from all the activity he’d been forced to attend lately. Lord knew nature was a lot more welcoming than people. Scoffing, he went to his table to pour himself some brandy.

“Dimitri love, please come down, I wish to talk to you.” His mother called him from below. Forever the obedient eldest child, Dimitri found himself descending the grand staircase that led to the foyer. Once he reached the first floor, he glanced around in search of his mother. “Darling, I’m in the den with father.” Following her verbal instructions, Dimitri entered the den, tempted to blow his top from the difficulties of the evening. He opened his mouth, but snapped it shut when he saw Janacho, his eleven year old sister in his father’s arms, fast asleep.

Softened by the sight of his little sister’s curly blonde hair, Dimitri quietly said, “Yes, mother?”

His mother, who had been pouring her husband a glance of brandy, looked up at her son, her aged face smiling against her sun-kissed hair. “Hello sweetheart. Did you have a nice evening?”

Dimitri shrugged, placing his hand in the pocket of his breeches. “It was alright I suppose.” His parents glanced at him disapprovingly, making him realize that probably wasn’t the answer they were looking for.

He loved his parents more than life. They helped him get through his mourning period after his wife died, and they were the foundation to all the success he had built outside his hometown walls. His father always understood him, and had the best way of making things understandable for Dimitri. Everyone often told him his good looks came from his father, for he had the same blonde hair, same body type and shape. Although several said that his smile and cat-eyes came from his mother since his father had bright green eyes.

“Oh darling. You really must learn to lighten up. You know, your father and I are getting very concerned about you.”

Dimitri rolled his eyes again. He had heard this speech many times before, and he really didn’t want to deal with it right now when he had just come from a very exhausting party, where he was forced to dance with girls he hadn’t even liked as a boy, shake hands of allied nobles, and meet new people, especially the women, as his mother loved playing match-maker.

“Life is about more than work son.” His father stated worriedly, but somewhat compassionately.

Dimitri nodded. “I know father. I realize there is perhaps still much to talk about, but the night has me as tired as little Janacho. I wish to retire now. Please don’t send up a servant, I’ll attend to myself. Good night mother, father.”

Letting the subject go at that, Dimitri climbed up the stairs, his feet relaxing at the feel of the soft carpet. When he finally reached his room again, filled with anguish for a reason unknown to him, he pushed back the curtains in his room to gaze at the wall of the other village. If the people inside were as at peace as simple as the torches that lit their wall indicated, perhaps he should try to become Tohkai.

(Aishalla)

Aishalla eagerly bounded the stairs from her room down to the entrance hall. Today was the day she went for her ride on her favorite horse. Every time, no matter who escorted her, she always managed to sneak away. And guaranteed, now would be no different. She checked the looking glass at the bottom of the stairs, happy with her reflection. The make-up paled her face, but her brown hair was flowing down to her hips, and her pale-blue riding habit fit her body type just fine. The brown of her eyes wasn’t something to be very proud of, but she let it go with her silver earrings that shined in her ears, the chain of stars glittering under the crescent moon they were attached to. “Aishalla? It is time for your riding.” The stable-hand called.

With a smile to her reflection, Aishalla eagerly ran toward the voice, then exited to the private stable owned by her father. Inside, she found Arlanda, the horse trainer and breeder. He greeted her with a pleasant smile, his white teeth startling against the tan that had developed with years of working outside. “Good Morn Aishalla. And who would we be taking today?”

Aishalla smiled back at him, adored by his sweet charm. Arlanda was a wonderful man, and almost everyone managed to get along with him. And no man-fearing lady was afraid of him, for he made it clear he preferred the company of men. “Good Morn to you to Arlanda. I believe I’ll be taking Philip today.”

With a grin, Arlanda pulled Philip out of his stall, and after adjusting the saddle, he hoisted Aishalla up by picking her up by her waist, causing her to giggle. As he led her from the stall, they chatted until her riding escort arrived.

Doing a nice little trot across the village, Aishalla took in the fresh scent that always came after the rain. Her village was a little muddy, so that made it difficult to ride, but Aishalla didn’t really care. She loved her town, and took every chance she had to venture into it. The beautiful town was cluttered with tiny houses, a large church that was currently ringing that it was seven-thirty in the morning. The grill and inn was on the other side of the village, along with Iana’s house. Perhaps later she could stop by for a visit. Just as she felt she wanted to stop the horse for a walk, she noticed that her escort was talking with the mayor. About what, she didn’t know, and nor did she care.

After dismounting Philip, Aishalla tied his reins to the pole of the church entrance. Aishalla smiled as the people hurried about around her. The marketplace was quite an interesting place to visit. Everyone in a good mood, and even better, they were just about always polite. Perhaps that should be her first stop. She was just about to walk that way when a flash of light caught her eye. In the village wall, there seemed to be a light coming from the bushes.

Her curiosity damning her again, Aishalla rushed over to the wall, where she saw the bushes, and looked past it to find a tiny piece of glass reflecting off light that came from a hole some animal had dug.

A HOLE!?

Delighted, Aishalla glanced around, making sure no one was watching before jumping under the bush, ignoring the fact that she was getting dirt stains on her new riding habit. Indeed, a large hole had been dug. And a few more inches, maybe she could get herself under there…

Knowing that her very ideas were wrong, Aishalla slapped herself mentally, and remembered that if anyone was to catch her sneaking out of the village, let alone being close to the wall, she could not only get in trouble with the law of the town, but her parents as well. Taking a deep breath, Aishalla prepared to stand, before she heard a whinny from the other side of the wall. Aishalla checked around one more time, then rationalized with herself that one peek outside couldn’t possibly hurt.

Her jaw dropped at the sight of a beautiful white mare, which must have been probably three feet taller than her.

The impulse to see the beautiful creature so powerful she couldn’t control, Aishalla found herself crawling under the wall, almost getting stuck a few times, since her riding habit was a little thick at the skirt. But as soon as she found herself standing on the other side, her eyes marveled at the sight. And this time, it wasn’t a good horse.