Hey, guys. Just so you know, the only +Anima book I've read is the third one, so I don't know a lot about the details of the gang's pasts, I just caught up with the synopsis in the front of the book (for the Japanese). So don't shoot me down in flames, if I get things wrong or make things up that are mentioned in the book. Thanks.

Fly on, NitnatRide

Chapter 1: Things so far

Ciriana's POV

Hey. I'm Ciriana, pronounced 'SI-ree-AH-nah', but the one and only friend I had called me C. Even my parents didn't know about the nickname. I'm from the Kim-un-kur tribe, but I was taken from the mountain village, Liali (pronounced 'li-AH-li'), when I was 11. Defiance and defence are my natural instincts whenever my friends and/or family are threatened. Igneous doesn't take kindly to those gifts, especially if they are sent by a Kim-un-kur. When Igneous and his troops came to Liali, my best friend's mother, bless her whether she's living or dead now, she stood up to them, flatly refusing to let them into her house; they were going to loot her husband's entire smithy, an attachment to their home, as punishment for the robbery of weapons from the soldiers' camp, which of course must have been committed by Kim-un-kur. Okay, so it was committed by Kim-un-kur – me and my best friend used to be great thieves, especially in Igneous' camp – but I was still outraged by the automatic prejudicial assumption.

Anyway, I remember just entering the Liali outskirts from the forest with my best friend (we were both great hunters because of what we were – well, are) just in time to see his mother spreading her arms out wide across the doorway, proudly facing down Igneous, who was flanked by two guards, with the rest of his men either standing behind the threesome, or making sure the other villagers didn't intervene. They weren't expecting two eleven-year-olds to come from behind them though; as soon as we saw one of the guards strike his mother across the face, we raced down the hill. We both started changing into our +Anima on the way down, which made me even faster than him than I already was. I kicked the guard off the woman and stood defensively in front of her, growling and snarling fiercely with the aid of my +Anima, a jaguar.

My best friend, ferocious himself especially in his +Anima form, was growling as well at the intruding commander. However, I saw that he was trying to push himself in front of me; he was always protective of me. I nudged him away with my shoulder, glaring at him to signal that he wouldn't protect me this time. If we hadn't been surrounded by such a large number of guards, he would have wrestled with me then, pinning me down on the floor until I gave into his wish; he was certainly strong enough to do so, even then. But because the circumstances were different than those in his favour, I remained where I was, and where I wanted to be; by his side.

He still wouldn't give up though, and one last attempt seemed to push my over the edge in frustration; he knew about my heightened hearing, so he knew I could hear him when he whispered to me.

"Run."

He was never much of a talker, except with me – he spoke a little more than his average – and I usually relished every word he said, what with his soft and mellow voice that seemed to caress you. But this time it wasn't a caress; it was a shove over the edge of desperation to prove myself to him. I advanced to Igneous, not charging, but not exactly skipping to him either. My frustration for my best friend thinking so low of my fighting skills – even though he and I had been training together since we could walk – made my fighting senses weaker, as is the norm with emotions. Two guards came at me from both sides and grabbed my arms, beginning to drag me off under Igneous' stare. That moment was the first time in my life that I had truly been afraid; the look in the commander's eyes was pure hate, nothing like I had ever seen before. Because of this unfamiliar feeling, I started to struggle and cry out to my best friend, his family, and mine. My family did not come when I cried. They merely looked on at me, as if I were decomposing already, as the guards dragged me away. The only person who tried was the one I could count on for everything. And yet I wish he hadn't tried; as he leapt after me, pushing and kicking a few soldiers out of the way, Igneous used that hate on him, unsheathing his sword and swiping it at him all in one motion. My dependable rock made a sound I had rarely heard from him – a cry of pain – and fell back to the ground, clutching his left eye. Even that could not hide the blood gushing from the wound.

I stared in horror at the painful image of my best friend, the rock, lying on the ground, his face a mask of pain. I continued to struggle, but this time not for my own gain; I knew I need to get free in order to help him. He could die of blood loss! As I neared the outskirts of Liali, I saw him get up, viewing me through his good eye being dragged off to a place that was likely to be worse than death. He ran over, but his injury made him slow, and he didn't even reach me before he collapsed onto the ground and lay still. I cried for him to get up, to be okay. I screamed to him that I didn't care if he didn't come for me, just let him be well.

I have no idea if my prayer has been answered. I'm now sixteen, and a slave for Igneous' camp wherever they go. I carry the equipment, if I do something wrong I am punished – brutally and painfully, and the only signs I have that I am Kim-un-kur are the beige leather blanket my mother made for me, the ability to speak the Kim-un-kur tongue, and the jaguar necklace that my best friend carved for me out of yew wood. He was amazing at that kind of thing, and always interested in nature and plants. Anyway, tomorrow we'll be coming into the town of Pruza, so we can stock up supplies again. It's a market town, and even if I never have any money – as if Igneous would pay me, or give me some as a reward for good work – I still like looking at some of the things being sold at markets. Maybe I'll take a much-needed break and browse the stalls if I have enough time after buying the supplies. I'll need to give my guard the slip – Igneous never lets me anywhere on my own unless I sneak off, which is usually easy enough. It's the getting back undetected which is the problem; if one of the guards or soldiers spot me, they'll know I've been out alone, and then Igneous beats me harder for that than anything else I do wrong. I should be able to do it tomorrow; I'll just wait for the right opportunity.

Senri's POV

"Cooro! Can't you round them up any closer together? I'm doing all the work here!"

"It's hard to see them through the water with the sun blinding me in the reflection! How can I round them up if I can't see them?"

The two younger boys' voices wake me from a dream of the past. Despite how tired I feel, I'm glad that they have; that day was the worst of my life, and I still have yet to find a day that rivals that theory. Lost in my thoughts, I don't realise that I have sat up and absent-mindedly started fingering my eye-patch until Nana's voice breaks the depressive trance.

"Oh, you're up." I turn to her and she smiles apologetically. "I'm sorry, Senri. I told them to keep their voices down, but they can't seem to stop arguing."

I can't help but chuckle quietly at the truth in that statement. She smiles in response, and I take her small hand and squeeze it gently to tell her that it's alright. I stand up and walk over to the edge of the lake we have stopped by. Seeing plenty of fish by the bank, I spread my leather poncho out, making my shadow look bigger. It has the desired effect; the fish swim away from one potential danger and Cooro presents another, which herds them towards Husky. Once Cooro sees me, he beams from the sky, giving me a thumbs-up.

"Thanks, Senri!"

I wave back slightly in recognition as I walk back to where Nana has the fire going. I sit down heavily; Cooro is right, the sun is intensely bright, and the heat no less so. Sighing in discomfort, I take off my thick, heavy poncho, leaving me in my horse-skin trousers and thin linen under-shirt.

"Are you alright, Senri?"

I meet Nana's concerned gaze with a shrug. "Grew up high in the mountains. Not used to warm weather."

"Well, you need to drink a lot. Here," she throws me my waterskin, and I take a long gulp. I have just finished my second draught when Cooro lands quietly on the bank whilst Husky quickly changes back into a human and walks towards the fire with their morning's work.

"Look how much fish we got!" Cooro cries gleefully.

"It's 'look how many fish…', Cooro," Husky corrects him irritably, probably because he thinks he's done all the work.

"That's great, you guys!" Nana congratulates them before a fight can break out between them. Once the fish have been skinned, gutted and cooked, we eat mostly in silence, just enjoying the taste of the different breeds of fish found in the lake. Then Nana speaks up again.

"Where are we going now? What's the next town or village?"

Husky, always the geographer of the group, points further down the path by the lake. "Along there, the nearest town, Pruza, is about an hour's walk away. It's a market town though, so it'll be good for us to stock up the supplies so I don't have to go fishing every morning."

We pack our sleeping things up, douse the fire, then begin to walk off. Nana stops us though.

"Oohh, look! There are helicopters in that tree!" (I don't know what that tree is called, but hopefully you know which one I'm talking about. It's the one with long, thin, dually-paired leaves that spiral as they fall).

I look up, and sure enough, there are some up there, just waiting to for some movement to knock them from their perches. I remember back in my village, some of us children would run down to the valley, where the trees get more exotic. When one of us found one of these trees, we would call out, so everybody would get under it, then the older, taller kids would jump up and grab one of the branches, making the bizarrely-shaped leaves spiral to the ground.

I smile as I remember this, and, looking down at Nana, I realise she is no different to I was back then. So I grin in anticipation, bend my knees, and push off the ground, reaching my arms up for the lowest branch. I latch onto it, making it bounce and the leaves fall. Landing on the ground again, I hear Nana and Cooro squealing in delight, and even Husky can't hide the smile of joy this sight gives. Heck, even I'm tempted to stand under it, and I'm sixteen.

I can't help but feel happy seeing the delighted look in Nana's eyes. I remember seeing that look in her eyes, as we skipped and jumped beneath the brilliantly-engineered leaves.

Don't think about her, Ri. Huh…Ri. That was her nickname for me. Ugh! Stop dreaming about her! She's long gone, and you missed your chance.

I don't notice I'm scowling at myself until Nana once again brings me to my senses, asking if I am alright. I respond by smiling at her and nodding, then walking off down the path again. I call over my shoulder:

"Need to get going."

We set off again, leaving that tree of reminiscence that has forced its way from my past into my present. The past has collided with the present a few times over our journey so far. Who knows how many more times that will happen? At that thought – the impossibility of this hope be damned – I can't help but wonder if another certain object of my past will find its way back to me.

Ciriana's POV

We finally arrive in Pruza, after I had to walk behind the horses for most of the journey whilst they carry the other soldiers and other gear. Igneous only put me on one of them in the end because I apparently looked like I was going to pass out. I can't really remember it, so I wouldn't be surprised if I was about to pass out, considering how freakin' hot it is. Liali was never this hot, so my body isn't used to enduring this kind of temperature.

We leave the majority of the camp equipment – including soldiers and horses – beyond the town outskirts, so as not to attract too much attention. Igneous assigns a guard to keep an eye on me during our very brief stay. He then stuffs a piece of parchment into my hand.

"These are the supplies we need. I expect all of it to be brought back to me personally." He hands me some money. "That is the exact amount needed for everything there. If all the money is gone, yet one or more of the supplies are missing, I shall assume you have used some of this for your own gain, and your remaining possessions shall be sold in order to gain this money back."

He certainly knows how to threaten me; I'm very protective of my possessions. I nod at him obediently, biting my tongue to keep myself from making a snappish reply. I think Igneous believes that I am obedient to him sometimes; if I do say so myself, some of the cover stories I come up with are quite convincing.

We enter the town, and the guard follows me everywhere. Luckily, the supplies Igneous has told me to get are of neither great quantity nor weight, as the guard often refuses to carry anything for me. So I use my sheepskin rucksack instead, pushing the few supplies into its almost never-ending depths. As soon as I have the last item on the list, the guard leads the way back to the arranged rendezvous. I can't stop the grin from forming on my face though when the perfect opportunity for me to escape is given; the guard is leading us towards a huge crowd of people, probably the busiest area of the market. I am just the right height (5'8") to be able to blend in easily. As we enter the crowd, I lean slightly to the left in order for it to seem like I've gotten carried off with the crowd. At that moment, somebody swings round, catching their elbow on my eye. I grumble silently about the injury, but it does the trick, and I'm carried away from the guard.

"Sir?" I call out, putting the right amount of feeling into my voice, making myself sound scared, startled and lost. I use my awesome speed to dart around the crowd, calling out every now and again to confuse the guard of my whereabouts. Eventually, I escape outside the crowd, and the guard doesn't follow me. I permit myself a small snicker of triumph, and sprint off to one part of the market that I remember looked interesting. I allow myself to breathe shortly once I reach the place, and, constantly looking around for Igneous or his men, I proceed with browsing the stalls. One product in particular catches my eye, and I stare in wonder at the small wooden, delicately-carved and –designed flute-like instrument for a good few minutes.

"Ah," the stall-keeper startles me, but I don't stop staring. "That, my dear, is a lythia. A beautiful instrument, producing a very pure tone. A common product among the –"

"Kim-un-kur," I interrupt. "I know."

There are a few seconds of silence before I flick my eyes up to the man. His old, withered body compliments the comprehension and kindness in his warm eyes.

"You are from the tribe." It's not a question.

"Yes, sir," I respond, politely addressing him out of habit; firstly, my mother brought me up so, and also, Igneous doesn't accept anything else but respectful courtesy from me.

"You do realise, mi ali, that Commander Igneous and his men are in this town as we speak?"

My heart constricts at the sound of the familiar Kim-un-kur endearment (pronounced 'mee AH-lee', meaning 'my sweet child'). I nod sadly at the old man.

"Yes, sir. I arrived with them."

He inclines his head in surprise, then, once again, understanding dawns on his features. "A slave." He notices the shackle-bruises on my wrists as he says this.

At that moment, I notice the sun has drifted past the position when Igneous expected us back. I gasp in dread, and turn slightly away from the stall.

"I'm so sorry. I am late."

I begin to sprint off, but the old man calls me back, using the Kim-un-kur endearment again. Something in his voice makes me stop, and I turn back towards him. He scurries around his stall, his speed contradicting his bodily state, and he has something in his hand. He grabs my wrist.

"How long ago were you taken from your home?" he whispers urgently.

"Five years, sir." I respond in the same way.

"Have you had any contact with your friends or family since then?"

"No, sir."

He places something in my hand, and I look down at it, my eyes widening. "Then take it," he insists, nodding to the lythia.

"Sir…I couldn't…" I stutter.

"I have enough money to get by, and my friends and family give me all the happiness in the world. You look like you cannot remember the meaning of the word 'happiness'."

I feel tears welling up in my eyes, my heart lifting at the first act of kindness someone has given me in a while. I grab his forearm, clutching at the lythia. "Thank you," I choke out. "Thank you."

I race off, through the market, keeping an eye out for Igneous or his guards whilst trying to stuff the lythia into one of my pockets in such a way that it doesn't make it bulge. I spot them at the end of a long street. Getting an idea for a cover story, I mess up my hair, smear dirt on my face and some of my clothes, tearing them slightly in places. I rush up to him, breathing heavily.

"Master!" I call weakly.

He whips around and scowls at me, ready to give me verbal, promising to beat me later. But when he takes in my physical state, he frowns, confused. I bend over when I'm in front of him, hands on knees whilst I catch my breath.

"I am sorry, Master. I got lost in a crowd the guard was leading me through, then when I was walking around looking for you, a homeless man attacked me. He was trying to steal some of the supplies, but I managed to push him off me before he could pull out his knife."

Igneous scrutinises me, critically taking in the tears in my mud-stained clothes. He points a finger to my eye. "And you received that bruise in your fight with the homeless man?"

I have never been so grateful for being hit in the eye in my entire life. "Yes, sir." Bending down, I open my rucksack, pulling out the entire contents, showing him that no supplies have been taken. As I tip the bag upside down, I am thankful I thought of putting the lythia in my trouser pocket instead of the bag. He gives the same inspection to the contents of the bag as he gave to me, but he finally relents, accepting my story.

"Next time, be more careful," he commands irritably. For a short, stupid moment, I think that he is telling me to be careful because he's worried about me. He destroys that hope – as with all my others before – quickly: "I don't want my supplies being damaged or intercepted."

"Yes, sir," I respond, biting my tongue for the second time that day.

Of course, perish the thought that your supplies be damaged. As I think this, I realise something; if Igneous is more worried about supplies, then I am less than them. I am less useful, less important, than an inanimate object. Even after being in his presence for five years, apparently he still hasn't degraded my self-esteem enough yet, as I feel my spirit sink ever further.