A Warrior's Dance

III - The Valkans

Cold breeze blew his face as their ships started to near the shore. The sound of trumpets and horns echoed, announcing their arrival to the people of the small island. He stayed up all night listening to crews as they talked stories about the people of Barren. The Valkans, first known as voyagers, landed their ships to the rich island of Barren, and found a small tribe already inhabiting the area. To fight for the land, the captain asked for a one-on-one combat. Their captain won but instead of killing every member of that tribe, they made them swore to an allegiance. From then, their tribe grew larger and larger, expanding their territories and families.

But it wasn’t always the case. The third captain of the Valkans began to kill every breathing person when they had been denied an allegiance. And so their race’s reputation travelled far across the ocean and nobody was smart enough to deny their offer.

This was Azaiah’s first time to set foot into the small island. People who lived there didn’t have a valkan blood but their chief swore to be an ally to them to maintain their stay. He felt a sudden excitement as their ship neared the shore.

“That’s a precious island, right there,” said Gared, one of his father’s crews. The man joined him on the deck, both of them anticipating the welcome ceremony the old tribe had for them. After all, the people of Barren were known of their smiles and hospitalities. Gared looked like a madman, with his greasy hair sticking in his face and the drunk expression he always had. “Ladies there are the best, I’d say! Fine looks. Black hair. Brown skin. Their moans are like music.”

Azaiah shook his head and held his chuckle. They had been on the boat for far too long that their men needed to get laid.

“I sure am you’ll find a fine young lady, Gared.”

“That I will, sire,” he muttered with excitement. “But I prefer old women. Experienced.”

This time, Azaiah couldn’t contain his chuckle. He was fond of Gared, the one man he could claim as his friend. “I bet you do.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you a fine young lady in Barren.” The old man winked at him.

“I don’t think so,” he answered, uncertain.

Gared stared at him for a moment. “And why not? You’re fourteen now!”

Azaiah didn’t answer. It wasn’t because of his age, he thought to himself. He just hadn’t found a girl enough to tempt him yet. His wavy hair reached past his shoulder, giving him a soft look on his already pointed face. There was a vertical ragged scar on his left cheek and he was proud to show it to his people. Valkans were proud to earn a scar. The bigger the better.

For now, Azaiah planned to just enjoy the short visit because after his uncle’s wedding. After that, he would be heading to Port City, the center of trades.

****

“Are you done, Vera?” Azaiah asked his little sister. He was four years older than her. The only common thing they had was their eyes. Both hazel nut in color, as what their late mother had told them.

“Not yet,” she answered almost instantly. She was busy picking flowers for their new aunt, Lady Avery. She was the most excited about the ceremony.

Azaiah grew impatient, hating to wait for her to finish. He always hated waiting. “You pick some more, I’ll just walk over there.”

“Okay, Aza.”

“Blow your horn when you’re done. Do not move an inch, you hear me?”

Vera nodded her head, eyes not leaving the wild flowers.

“Do you hear me?” he repeated, emphasizing each word.

She rolled her eyes. “Hear, hear, brother!”

“Brava okhin.” Good girl.

Azaiah strolled around the forest as the sun started to set. The ceremony would begin soon but he suddenly lost the excitement. The whole Valkan tribe was already imagining on how drunk they planned to be and busy plotting to bed the ladies. He couldn’t care less, as long as nobody would touch his sister.

After a moment, he heard light footsteps from a distant, as if someone planned to go unnoticed. Straining his ears, he let silence dawn on him as the rustle of dried leaves reached his ears some more. He hid on a huge tree, trying to blend with the background. Not long after, he peeked and saw a little girl in the middle of the forest. She was alone but unharmed, a worn scarf hooded her head. Her eyes were close, her tiny frame poised for a fight. That was when Azaiah noticed black daggers on both her hands.

He heard some footsteps again along with the rustle of dried leaves on the ground. He just realized that it was somebody else, since the little girl didn’t even move an inch. With stomach beginning to hardened, Aza tried to listen again, figuring out what the girl was trying to do. A wild boar appeared then, about to attack the girl when she released her dagger, grazing the boar. The wild animal ran away from her, going to the direction on where his sister was.

Angry and panicked, Aza ran back to his sister, his hand ready to wield his dagger. Right then, he heard a scream, his sister’s scream, and he knew he messed up. But he hadn’t realized that the little girl went after the boar too, her speed rivaling his and threw her dagger once more before the boar reached Vera.

The dagger hit the boar in the head, taking the animal down with just a blink of an eye. Vera stared at it in horror, her first time to see an incident like that. Aza went to his sister, consoling her from terror.

He hugged her as he said something in Valkan, concern reflecting in his eyes. “It’s fine,” he repeated to her in a whisper.

Vera didn’t answer and just kept looking at the dead boar at her feet.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” a voice rang out.

“Ta salvare bi,” Vera said, blinking rapidly.

The girl’s brows furrowed. “I don’t even know what that means. I’ll take it you’re not from here.”

Aza shot her a look of astonishment. “She said you saved her.” He could tell that the foreign girl was at ease in the jungle.

“Thank you,” Vera said to her.

The little girl smiled.

Aza kept his gaze at the stranger girl. Looking at her closely, she was smaller, but her height didn’t match her bravery. She looked like a fine little lady, with her fair skin and red hair, he would say she looked like a sunshine.

“Who are you?” he asked.

She looked at him. “My father named me Sanne.”

All people from Barren had brown skin, as if kissed by the sun. The little girl named Sanne stood out from everyone. She had light skin.

“You’re different,” Aza commented, unable to retain himself. She looked like a tiny ball of light, like the sun. It awed him and he didn’t quite like that she was affecting him. She didn’t even bat an eye seeing a valkan.

Sanne’s brows furrowed again. “Isn’t that a good thing?” She took a step toward the dead boar and pulled out her dagger, blood staining the blade.

“It is,” Vera answered for his brother. There was now a smile on her face. “I’m Vera. This is my brother, Aza.”

Azaiah looked away. He didn’t even give her a smile.

Sanne shrugged her shoulder at the lad’s indifference. She just chatted with Vera the whole way back to the captain’s tent.