A/N: This is the story of adventure. Three young women embark on a journey to find who they are in their world-even if they don't want to. This adventure is set in a world similar to ours, in a time one would call the late Middle Ages, but with a special twist...the dominating religion is that of the Ancient Greeks. With particular magics being the power granted from the gods and goddesses to their worshipers, we have the land of Min, where the possibilities are endless.
Discover through their eyes the land of Min. From the city of Arcolia to the many denizens of Min, both beast and demon, the women will learn more about themselves and the world around them, one small adventure at a time. This first book quite slow and methodical, but everything is relevant. The structure of this book is not like a typical book with one turning point...but rather small rising actions that gradually build momentum. After all, you have to slowly but surely make your way up the big hill to get an amazing ride downhill...
So come, witness the beginning of an amazing adventure, filled with friends, fighting, and fun.
Aneska Baranyai sat at the edge of the bed, golden head bowed as she stared at the dagger in her lap. It was simple, a gift from her father when he had returned from one of his travels. She stroked the blade, brow furrowed as she brooded, her clear grey eyes staring into the distance.
Her hair was a dark gold, lightening when illuminated by the sun. It grew to the base of her neck, not long enough to hinder her movements but still able to be tied back when the situation required it to be so. Her darker eyebrows lay close above her eyes, lending her an intense look that was not always so. Her high cheek bones had grown more pronounced as the years had gone by, and sometimes in her rare moments of emotion her cheeks would flush red. Her lips served to contrast with her lighter eyes and face. They were tightened into a thin line at the moment.
She did not forget a single detail of yesterday. Had she known what was to happen would she have changed something? Probably not. Depended on her mood. She could still feel remnants of the mood from yesterday, the inflammation. The urge to kill had given her energy to begin the act, although the result was…unexpected, but desirable. For it was not the dagger in her hands that inflicted the wound on her teenage brother's face, a wound that would scar if not attended to by a healer. No, the wound was inflicted by something else. She had tried many times in the quiet of the night to summon that thing. It looked like the blade of a dagger, and sailed straight like one. Not straight enough, though, for her control faltered and the trajectory changed, only glancing past his cheek. She had aimed much truer.
That matter…thick, grey, and solid yet liquid at times. That was all she remembered. Quite different from the things she had formed earlier, those little black formless shapes. As a child she had quickly realized such an ability was abnormal and hid it…but it seemed that she could not have prevented this. Stefan was too much an idiot to live after their argument.
Did she tell her mother what she had done after he ran to her crying? No. Her mother already knew. She always did but never spoke of it. Her father…Aneska was unsure before, but at the moment she knew he knew. His ten minute lecture was enough (although she barely paid attention).
But Zsoska…Aneska frowned, flipping the dagger in her hands. Her little sister could not know what had happened. She was too young for this…thirteen was still early to hear of such acts. That knowledge didn't prevent Stefan from blabbing, but there was nothing Aneska could do about it. Not yet. Her compliance to her mother's command to leave the house was not because of obedience. It was just convenient.
That meant she would have to leave her sister…and she was the only one in her family that Aneska actually was fond of. She could smile around her younger sister unlike with any other…their jokes, their picnics all seemed surreal now. She would tell Zsoka the truth when the young girl was ready.
Aneska glanced up at the sound of movement. There she was, standing in the doorway. Golden hair similar to Aneska's framed a face with pale round cheeks and green eyes reddened from tears previously shed. Her brow furrowed in worry a young girl her age should not have had to experience yet. Worry and…was that fear in her eyes? Aneska stared stonily back, not wanting to express her frustration and sadness at the rift that was widening between her and her beloved sister.
Zsoka stared at the dagger in Aneska's lap, then back up at her older sister. She blinked rapidly and leaned on the doorway for support. "P-Papa says it's time to go."
In one fluid movement Aneska sheathed the dagger, hanging it at her waist. She stood and put on her black travelling cloak, then bent down to pick up her pack, slinging it over her shoulder and walking out of the doorway. She passed her sister without a word.
"W-was that what you used to hurt Stefan?" Zsoka managed to blurt as she tried to keep up with her sister's longer strides.
Aneska said nothing but inwardly winced. Was that what her mother and Stefan said had happened? Wrong. It was all wrong. But she bit her tongue and kept walking.
"Neska, tell me!" Zsoka pleaded, grabbing onto her arm.
Aneska shrugged her off. "I can't." She walked out the house and towards the wagon waiting at the front, shoulder-length golden hair flying from the pace of her walk.
Zsoka sniffed as she ran after her, fresh tears prickling at the edges of her eyes. "Then why do you have to leave me?"
"I just have to," Aneska replied flatly, tossing her bag onto the back of the wagon. Her father was already in the driver's seat, reins in hand. He glanced back with a heavy face, then turned away at the bitter farewell between his two daughters. Her brothers and mother stood far off, watching silently.
Zsoka's lower lip trembled violently. Her tears flowed over as she bit her lip, and then a wail burst from her. "Don't leave me!" She stumbled forward to clutch her sister in a tight embrace, tears flowing into the heavy cloak as she sobbed softly. "Don't leave, Neska, please don't leave," she begged furiously. "I don't care what happened, just don't go."
Aneska laid a hand on her sister's head, wanting to stroke it and comfort her…but she held back. Instead, she bent down in front of Zsoka, eye-level with her now. Aneska held Zsoka's gaze as she laid a hand on one shoulder and the other holding her sister's face. She stared into her eyes for a few moments, the tears streaming over her hands. Then Aneska spoke softly to her, almost imploringly.
"Don't think too badly of me, okay?" And without another word Aneska stood, hands falling away as she turned to get onto the wagon.
She didn't look back as the wagon lurched forward. She had seen enough. The hurt in her sister's green eyes…the pain and anger in her family's. She didn't need to see that anymore. She had only eyes for the future.
Despite the glowing horizon nothing else seemed to brighten as the cart rolled down the road, the clouds still dark and heavy as they lingered in the sky.
She glanced at her silent father beside her. During his ten-minute rant to her he had mentioned contacts he had in Arcolia who could help. She didn't bother asking what they were, since she had no knowledge of the city's denizens who dealt with her…abilities. She did, however, feel grimly eager for her arrival.
For to arrive in a place meant one must leave another. A turn in the road briefly brought her house into view, but she did not look for the lone figure of her sister watching them leave.
Aneska had no attachments here.