Shallyah's Passing
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The meeting room was full of guards discussing the morning debriefing. Knots of people gathered at various points in the room, the buzz of conversions blended into a cacophony of unintelligable noise.
“Sergeant? Sergeant Yana?”, the lieutenant shouted as he poked his head into the room. The voices quieted momentarily, but resumed as Yana turned and walked over.
“Yes Lieutenant?”
“Didn’t you know a defender named Shallyah? I seem to recall you teaching her some time ago. Well, word has it that she was slain off duty. Sorry to break the news”
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“…and that was how I learned Shallyah had died”, Yana thought to herself. She sat with a few others at the Shrine of Tempus, just south of Peltarch. Several of Shallyah’s friends were there, mostly people Yana had only met briefly or never knew. A few faces were tear streaked, and Yana wondered what Shallyah had meant to them.
Shallyah had come to her many years ago, looking for ways to improve her fighting techniques. Yana had a set of skills few others possessed, and she looked forward to passing on the knowledge Glorion had given to her many years ago. She had taught Shallyah unarmed combat and to be more keenly aware of her surroundings. She taught her balance and control. But the finer points, the true secrets of the art always eluded her. Shallyah was too rigid in her thinking, and couldn’t embrace the concept of expanding her senses beyond the usual five.
Yana sighed. It was an opportunity lost. It was a shame because Shallyah had exceeded her in many ways.
Yana got up and went to the brazier. She cut her hand, offering her blood amidst prayers to Tempus that her adopted mother had taught her. She prayed for Shallyah’s soul, and asked Tempus to give her a good home.
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Far away up north, in a land of long summer sun and long winter nights, Maya the Unaging, Uniter of Tribes and Champion of Tempus awoke. She had a nagging feeling she was missing something. An opportunity perhaps. A chance meeting unrealized.
She got out of bed and relatively unclothed, opened the tent flap and embraced the cold air. She had long since gotten used to the northern climate, and gazed south across the snow dotted expanse. The feeling nagged at her. She could almost feel Tempus’ “tch-tch” in the back of her mind.
She knelt upon the straw mat in her room and said her prayers, and was comforted that all would be resolved on that fateful day when she was called home to Tempus’ side again.
