there is a line of s's in this chapter which signifies a break between two charectors. this will only happen once because the main charector is Kiran but it is important to know the one I start with as well so you are not confused.

If one was to be put in darkness, would they be blind? It was a desert, but she didn’t know it. Migration is a part of life and along the way things run out. Maybe it was lack of food in their callous crossing, or maybe along the way they had lost their minds completely. Perhaps after sleepless nights and thirsty days their intelligence slipped away like the grains of sand that delimited them. Whatever the reason she was forgotten maternity had gone astray and she was sucked into the grains of sand.

Everyone just shrugged their shoulders and kept on foot she was one casualty among many too small to eat, and took in too much nutrition. Cannibalism was a gruesome part of their journey but this babe so small and skinny, was nothing but a burden. Erosion seemed to work to her advantage that day, for slowly but steadily she was sucked underground before the heat of the wasteland could exterminate her still undeveloped existence. Blue-green her eyes had once been, but now in the darkness of caverns they were useless and grew discolored till they became almost glowing silver.

No, if you are left in the dark your eyes don’t become blind but sharpen. In darkness you see light, hearing becomes more aware and you become something less than human. She had been reborn into a world underground animals of shadows surrounded and nurtured her better than humans ever had. She did not know their names, but silver eyes much like her own followed her. She was wrapped around warm dark fur, and nudged by catlike faces masked in shadow.

They nursed her with warm milk seeming intrigued at such a creature as her. Warm blood soaked meat was offered to her when her teeth were grown and she devoured it greedily. They didn’t speak, but rules bound them. The leader’s ears were pricked high and her tail stood up in strength while the others kept their heads down in reverence. She stood on four legs careful to stick low on the ground so as not to offend her.

They seemed to think her even lower than them, a cripple for she had neither tail, nor ears they recognized. Underground they hunted wolves for they were twice as small as them, and it was unfortunately for them that their prey fled to the mountain peaks leaving them hungry. They ate vermin from the ground. Their eyes were too unaccustomed to the light to allow them to climb, so they were doomed to stalk caves.

ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

“Sir King,” He bowed low to his old weathered lord. The figure stood just as proud and regal as when he had first placed his eyes upon him when he had been a simple waif. Loyalty shinned in the eyes of the young man such outlandish eyes. They were the purest shine of sapphire blue. You could almost see the cuts and crevices of the master jeweler god himself that had engraved the gems. Small spirals of raven’s wings fell in front of his features hiding the beauty of the twin charms.

“More Wanderers come this way begging shelter from their dessert dwellings. Do I allow them passage?” his voice was pleading, and had a low undertone. His parents had been of the desert people, but that had been many years ago before the borders of Beloren were closed to anyone who was not born from rooted and sewn in the lush lands he had claimed as home. All land had once been green and bore fruit into the world, but the ground had become hollow sucking in all nutrition needed to grow crops and with it more important water. Now all that was left of the Demascara was desert and desperate Wanderers begging for sanctuary no one wanted to give since the slaughter in Belize.

“You know the laws Kiran no people come from desert lands may enter the domain. They are our enemy, and we are at war. We turn them away and let the desert diminish their lives to nothing because they attacked our brethren and still advance.” His eyes turned dark in sadness head more downcast than ever.

“I am only a foundling taken in by a great king. My loyalty and love belongs to his majesty. They are my people blood of my blood and yet you who took me into his hearth would turn them away. He was on his knees now head upturned with eyes pleading, and hands upon the floor.

“I think of my people. They look docile now, but three years ago when they tried to storm their way and take Beloren by force tame was not their way. You whose skin is bleached from the wasteland sun and eyes as bright blue as our great oceans are not of my people whose hide matches the dark earth and eyes mirror such, but you were raised here.

You have not heard their strange prayers and unholy songs to gods unknown to us. Your skin is unmarred by their strange tattooed symbols.

You are a soldier of my armies, but if you wish to join their pilgrimage to a safety they will not find then join them and be dead to me.” His voice was harsh and rang with authority. Many of the nobles at court eyed Kiran wearily.

“No, my benevolent king of exalted tongue hallowed is thy word,” his voice was bitter in the custom valediction to the king, “I wave them away at your beckon.”

“My good knight I thank you to thank you to spread my word, and I have another task for you. Venture into the desolate tract and dig a hole into the crest of the wasted land. There I wish you to find an animal with a coat as dark as a starless night and eyes silver. Their hide is… important to me, but there are scarce left and it is of the utmost importance you find them. Kill the strongest.

You won’t even have to stop and try to figure which is best for it will be the one with ears perked and tail stiff and high. Do this for me and I really will make you a knight one revered above a common soldier with the ability to climb in rank.” Kiran bowed once more in respect for his king and crossed his arms to his heart as he did showing his soul’s imprisonment to the monarch, his king. With one bold movement Kiran departed black cloak flapping in his hast.

The nobility scoffed at him as he walked through them resentment flickered in their eyes he who had the favor of the king they so wanted the thrall, foundling. And worse of all and perhaps the reason he was not yet a general, son of a desert dweller, pale faced and bright eyed. He walked through the heavy stone doors his back visibly loosening its tension.

“Kiran did father let them stay!” a small girl of barely five hailed him. Her black hair brown eyes and skin was just like everyone in Beloren. The only thing different in her was the rich red silk fabric of her dress and the crown that was perched crookedly on her head.

“Princess Azared the cheerful, greet me in favor,” he bent on one knee but his head was still heal high and smiling at the girl in greeting.

“Do you have to do that every time? You and everyone act like I am some sort of queen I am only about 56th in line to the throne after all my brothers and sisters and you were raised in the same place and by the same father.” He shook his head at her crude manner. She would never change always the free spirit.

“You are a true princess of noble birth and decent I am born from the enemy. I am only a boy your father took pity on, and 56th in line is better than your brother Siny born this spring. He is the last” Azared rolled her eyes at that visibly sneering.

“Last? Yah sure my dad no matter how old will always be taking in wives, he is the last of the last of my father’s offspring maybe. I hear he is already going to get marry that Anabella from the far land Becay she will bring in at least one more heir to the king by the look of her.” Kiran was trying to surpass a laugh and was not succeeding. Finally he threw his head back in unrestricted hilarity.

“I agree the way she rubs herself upon him does not go unnoticed neither does her well endowed bosom. Yes a seeker of wealth she is most definitely she will make him give her an heir and take her as a wife, but you can’t blame the great king for being hearty of apatite” it was her turn to laugh.

“No indeed, but tell me how goes your plea.”

“Fell upon deft eras as usual I’m going to tell the guard to turn them away then I have an errand to run” Azared pouted her bottom lip uncharacteristically protruding.

“I really don’t want you to go! But since you have to, let me tell the guard at least they won’t boo you and call you a traitor again. Seriously Kiran they have no gratitude for you begging every time a group of them pass at least you try.” She shook her head at him obviously she was among those that thought him foolish for degrading himself for such unworthy people.

“Fine then goodbye…little sister.” He kissed her cheek and ruffled her hair as he made for home. Out of the castle he had moved away from long ago to a cottage at a hillside where he had his best friend Saren his chestnut stallion. He had endured many battles with him. Inside his home he gathered enough supplies to go through the dessert pass and make it through the crest which was the barest and utmost dry part of Demascara. He settled a saddle upon his steed that grunted in protest.

“Lazy horse you have been in the stables for three months now without a single trip to war, and now that we are simply going on a small errand you complain. To think of it though you have spent most of your time in my house like an unwelcome guest we will have to speak of your behavior later.” He neighed in mock belief of being taken away from his cozy fire like he understood perfectly. He mounted on his horse that didn’t even need to be nudged to know he had to go and made his way to the gate of the city.

“Hail guard of the great city of Beloren open, thy gates and let me through and grant me pass back.”

“Back?” Hailed the nasty looking guard “Why don’t you just follow your nomadic friends out of my city you damn son of a drifter” he waved one hairy fist. Kiran ignored him he had heard it before every time he tried to pass through the gate. After an awkward silence old Harry like he liked to call him for he had refused to give his name opened the gate to let him through. The land outside Beloren was dry and brittle to a point that the ground was cracked in lack of moisture. It was the curse of the Nomad people that their land be dry and unable to hold life as punishment for betraying Ayra the god of land. Of course that was only a fable though it was strange that the land once again bears fruit right behind the border of Beloren.

His horse’s eyes became clouded in almost madness when pushed in this climate and it was only years of training that kept him from going crazy. Here at the gates of Beloren was where they had fought their last battle and cast out all that was Itinerant. They had almost lost the city. The stallion bucked he wanted to run forward in rush delirium, but Kiran tightened his hold on Saren for his journey was long and he would not stop along the way for fear of being raided by bandits and Saren would surely die of thirst if they went too fast. With a nudge the horse galloped forward steady and sure like he was taught to do.

The sun beat at their weary bodies. It was an enemy no one won from. Water and brief stops was the only thing keeping Saren and Kiran alive. Steam floated and the land dipped where Saren stepped. Was it not for thick iron horse shoes even he a horse would feel the burn under his feet. Finally they came to the crest of Demascara marked by the single skeleton hanging his arm on a walking stick. It was a mystery how he had come to be there or who he was. The even greater mystery though perhaps was how he still sat there perfectly preserved; bones as hard and glossy as marble no sand storm had buried him.

“Soul of those lost…” he whispered mournfully to the body like it could still hear his forgotten words. Perhaps he could, maybe the desert winds would bring his words to the sky where his soul. Bitter and angry over his fate would pay head to one who stopped and paid some pity to a lost drifter. Slowly he took out the shovel he had taken with him. It sizzled and burned his hand to the touch but he gripped it tight not allowing it to effect what he had come to do. Dig he did into soil so dry it would appear to have become rock, but amazingly it was soft and easily gave way.

He found himself steadily sinking under his weight. He struggled he would not be swallowed by this wasteland. He had found refuge something most of his people did not he would not share their fate. He struggled, but his feet were already swimming in a sea of earth. The last thing he heard was the whinny of Saren as he plunged into obscurity air lost to him. His head was swimming of images of his past. This was his end. He would die on a fool’s errand after so many gruesome battles with not only wanderers but neighbors he would die in the desert. Finally with a crash he landed on solid rock. It was cold underground and humid. He was standing in an inch of water. His hands and feet were tangled in a clump weeds, and it was dark. The only light came from two silver orbs in front of him and the hole he had made above the ceiling.

He fished in his pocket and was able to find some phosphorous witch he struck and lit a small candle he had brought. It illuminated the animal enough to see its catlike face and black fur. Its tail was raised and its ears perked. This was his prey. He threw the candle into its eyes burning it. The animal hissed in pain and lunged at him. He sidestepped it but fumbled on the coarse rocky floor deflecting him enough so it was able to scratch his shoulder. He grasped his wound trying to follow the infuriated eyes of the cat. It was circling him he knew it teeth would be bared and mouth salivating with the thought of its meal. Once again it came and the seasoned warrior did the only thing he could. He pulled out his sword and lunged for it going right through the thing’s skull. It screamed it final breath echoing through the caves. Another stream followed his and it sounded higher pitched and… feminine

The leader had been killed by this thing. She could not hate him. He was in a place better than were she was. He only followed the laws of nature it was the leader or him. Now it was time for nature to once again see its winner. He had heard the sound before in battle when they had expanded the sound of a woman.

This person must have been under for a long time for her eyes glowed silver like that of the creatures. He doubted she had the gift of speech. The eyes grew closer, and before he realized she had pounced she was on him. They rolled on the water her trying to claw at him and him trying to restrain her. It was in that dance for dominance the both genders seemed to have been fighting since they had been placed in the world. It was in that struggle that her hair became entangled around him and her lips accidentally brushed over his. It was when he first felt the swell of her breasts pressed against him and her legs became entangled in his.

In a dance for dominance she had woven herself around him in not only body, but in spirit. In one final effort he was able to pin her down beneath him as they both gasped for air and with many bruises and him four gashes on his shoulder they slept. He didn’t know how long he had stayed that way but by the taste in his mouth he guessed a long time. He shook his head to clear it and whistled as softly as possible so as not to disturb the girl beneath him. On the upper ground he knew Saren had heard him, and was probably now shaking his head so the rope he had wound around his neck would loosen and fall into the small hole he had made over the sand.

The rope was always around him just in case he left him somewhere he needed to go back to later but was unable. It was a trick taught to him and the horse a long time ago. He pulled the carcass of the beast over his shoulder and balanced the girl in his left arm as he amazingly held on to the rope that Saren pulled up. Once on the surface the woman instantly awoke with the flood of blazing heat and lights her eyes and body burned. Kiran stifled her screams with his hands and placed on her all his extra clothes and his black cloak witch shielded her eyes from the sun. She grasped onto him blindly desperation clearly etched in her eyes. He knew she couldn’t understand him, so he hummed to her a low tune he had heard as a child to bring some comfort to her. It turned into a song as she relaxed in his arms leaning her head into his chest.

Beloren city of prosperity

Sing for me I call to thee

Tell me oh great city you mean for me

To live in your walls to fight again please be

Demascara thirsty you can’t drink you see

From Beloren the great city

Her eyes were closed against the blinding sun and her arms crushed under his as her face evened as the first sign of sleep. She was so innocent and helpless then blind and unable to speak. He had to take her with him.

Her hair like her eyes had become discolored and was now completely white. It went along with her ghost like complexion even lighter than his. She could not pass for one of the children of Beloren, but neither could she be dubbed a drifter so she would be allowed it the city if she was with him.

He would have to help her speak. He needed to know why she was in the desert living among such creatures, and most of all he wanted to see what her voice would sound like in something more than just a scream.

Author’s note- I have had this story for a while, but I can’t say I love the story. Anyways thought I’d write it anyways. I’m going to finish it, so at least I can guarantee that is won’t remain un-complete. Please review it would make me really happy, and coax me to update, unless the story sucks then nobody review so I can take a hint and stop writing, and start another story.