sabato 26 luglio 2014

Xera, the girl with the sword (Pag. 1)

Yak, Yak and more Yak! I'm tired of these damned beasts!
Xera was reminiscing her last words to her mother before being picked, among the chosen few from the lands of Raifaelia, to take part to the contest for the new recruits on the isle of Horsia.
It felt like ages since that day for the young Paladin, it was like a long lost memory, almost as a forgotten painting in the garret.

The faint red shine of her beloved sword, Rosethorn, lit up her face as she was whetting it, while drifting away in her memories of Dalihan, always verdant and with clear skies, as if the taint could never reach and dent it.

There was a small modest hut  in those pristine lands.
A safe shelter from the cold nights and not much more. No frippery or decorations to make it more comfortable, only the Yak leather exposed on one of the walls with it's strong smell, a thropy of a past hunt.

A humble family inhabitated the small abode, without any dream that would cross the mounts of Dalihan. This life is a gift from the Goddess Raifhee, why bother with anything else?
Everything was unchanging as if the time stopped, the sun rising and setting in an endless cycle, beat every day only by hard work, at least until the young woman discovered she was pregnant.

The joy for that happy news changed the hut into a home. A child was a gift from the Goddess, to thank the family for it's devotion and hard work.
"Let it be a Boy my dear Annabell, so that he can help me in the fields!", that the wish of the young Shepherd, addressed to his beloved, as if she had a say in the matter.
But Annabell knew that the child was different than what they expected. She felt the child struggle in her womb, forcing her to sing the song of the Pillim to calm the baby down. Only those notes could make the child fall asleep, tenderly caressing her belly, hoping that her feelings were only the unfounded worries of an overanxious mother.

Translated By: Mr. F.

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