Days later.....

“Hey, wake up. Wake up, Lani.”

I'm rubbed awake by a familiar hand. I was sad to leave Lam Lathi behind, but Nathari had left the city with me. He was going to fight the Neandelerians in the Felokyle. We had a familiar path, at least until we got the city.

“Nathari Emana...” I think.

Nathari was cold and slow to open up. Now that we had gotten used to each other his silence broke more often. I rub my eyes and my view darts to Nathari. He was give me a hand up and I leave my tent, shortly after. There were others approaching our small group. They were bandits on horseback, just like the rider of Lam Lathi's statue.

The legend said that the first dancer was beautiful priestess fleeing from her captors. She had influenced her Ryoken king with her possessor being, and had made him her lover. Seen as a threat by her people, the king was killed, and she was chased from the tribes he ruled over. She ran through the thorns and brushes, a bed sheet wrapped around her body. It ripped and tore and she found herself surrounded, until a bandit arose and struck down her four assailants. She wrapped a piece of cloth around his mouth, a token of his new status, and he never was a bandit again..

“Mmm...”

I grip my arm. There were only tribes now. Kings were something only Caparans cared about. The bandits pull my attention again as they approach. They hold up their hands signaling the passing peace they wanted from us. Once they reach us, they stop and their horses bray.

Crumbled statues were everywhere, as displaced as the mangled trees that were growing between the shattered rocks. Quartz figurines littered the ground, far removed from the private alters that were once used to denote where a family lived. The once proud city of Annaloviah was a shell of its former self, only connected by the masonry and walkways that led from one building to the next. In the distance, I catch sight of a giant tower. I run my finger down my palm.

“What is that?,” I point silently

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I point to the distance. The sun was a little blinding and Nathari covers his eyes with his hand. He was always answering my questions, very proud of his heritage. I could tell that I annoyed him, but he was patient and kept his thoughts to himself.

“Those towers were once the home of a tyrant king. They said he ruled the entire landscape before the possessor beings came.” Nathari stares at me. It was his turn to scout ahead of our group and he had come to warn me of the bandits.

The bandits stare at us. They had made the ruins their home and wanted to know why we were passing through. They look at us, as our camp forms small line in the broken street. A silent conversation follows, until they bid us farewell and pass us by.

I lock eyes with one of the bandits as he passes me on horse.

“Why do they live in these horrible ruins?” I blurt out.

Nathari stares at me, as one of the bandits stop. The bandit looks at me from behind his bandanna a little insulted by what he had to say. He grips to his reigns and turns hastily. My eyes widen as he stares at me, before speaking from behind his covered mouth.

“These aren't the ruins. It is the city, full of selfish people that is the ruins.”

The bandit was speaking of Cepertine on the other side of the world. Their influence could be felt more and more as we approached the Felokyle. The technology they brought with them was changing the tribes. Most of it was a blessing, but it wasn't always one.

The bandit says “goodbye.” and continues on his path. I look at Nathari and he looks back at me. He remains steady with his fingers around his knife handle. He wasn't too concerned. In these parts, I was a sacred dancer. No harm would come to me, but the same couldn't be said for himself.

I smile. I wasn't as afraid of strangers, as I used to be.

After collecting our horses, our small group makes their rotation. We each had different tasks and it was becoming a routine as our small caravan grew. I liked talking to my companions, who were always quick to point out I had four tempest chains. I had received another recently, from my stage dance in Lam Lathi. I didn't like talking about it. I felt bad about influencing more people to war.

The calming hoof steps on the road keep me occupied. I gallop up to Nathari.

Nathari continues down the road, altering his course around several, large blocks of stone. Wildlife was calling from the trees and overgrowth that surrounded him on both sides. Yet, the atmosphere of the ruins made it feel like he was in a city. It was vacant, but Nathari knew it was a breeding ground for thieves and the like. He was kept on guard. I ask another question.

“What was life like, before the possessor beings?”

Nathari stares from atop his horse.

“I don't know, messenger. I'm not that ancient.”

I frown. All I knew was the myth. Whether or not is was true, I didn't know. It reminded me of Tejani and The Far Away Dream. It was an ancient picture rumored to be in Cepertine. That was his myth.