Lathan was relieved when they finally neared the Dhorisha Plains. Although he was grateful to the Swordsorn and her she'enedra for their company he was glad to be away from the kyree. For some reason Warrl took immense satisfaction out of teasing him. Lathan liked to think that he was a tolerant and easy going person, but that kyree could have angered a sanit. Therefore when he sensed that his path lead him towards Kata'shin'a'in and not out onto the Plains with them, he took his leave.


Azaelia shena Vuysher'edras the youngest shaman her clan had ever seen was traveling, not for the first time, to Kata'shin'a'in. The journey was a long and tiring one, even for the Shin'a'in crossing the Dhorisha Plains in the dead of summer was no pleasure jaunt. Especially if one isn't very familiar with the journey because they are told to stay behind, Azaelia thought with a twinge of envy for those who had the freedom to make the journey when they wanted to. Still she had gone and now before her was the city of tents spread out on the horizon looking as colorful as she remembered, and she was grateful for the sight of it.

She was amazed really that a memory form when she was a child of five, seventeen years ago, held up with the brilliance of reality. Everything was in the exact same place she remembered it being, from the horse paddocks to the clan's campsite. She would always be amazed by her people's resilience. Years ago when her mother was a child an event had occurred at the annual horse fair that had frighten every clan; the bloody and unnecessary massacre of Tale'sedrin right down to last woman and child. Following that no clan would bring every member with them outside the protection of the Plains, only a small delegation left for the annual horse fair. Enough time had passed now that the clans were sending larger groups though they continued to maintain their diligence.

"Azaelia jel'endra," a woman's musical voice called her, pulling the Shaman out of her musing.

"Illmene," she replied not bothering to turn around.

"Stop admiring the visage and come help me pitch the tents." Illmene ordered her with dry humor. Azaelia laughed and went over to her sister's side to help. Only an older sister would dare boss about a shaman, Azaelia thought wryly.

"Forgive my woolgathering; it is always such a surprise to me to be away from the Plains."

"It remains a surprise," Illmene answered cryptically. Azaelia sighed inwardly, fighting the temptation to roll her eyes. Her sister's propensity for cryptic remarks often made Azaelia think that the Goddess should have chosen Illmene to be Shaman not blunt spoken Azaelia.

"You are our Shaman I was surprised the Elders agreed to let you come this time," Illmene wondered aloud as always uncannily able to sense the train of her sisters thoughts. Becoming aware of what she was saying Illmene paused awkwardly uncertain if she should continue. "After…"

"Colemo's death," Azaelia murmured. The death of her teacher had come suddenly, as well as painfully, not just for the young Shaman but also for the entire clan. Her death had been over a year ago and since that time the clan, especially the Elders, have treated Azaelia as a priceless bauble.

"Well I'm glad you were able to come regardless." Illmene tried to say tactfully. Clearly she felt that she had over stepped herself.

"Yes well even if I am the youngest shaman the clans has seen in some time, I am still a shaman and I have my own things to attend to." Azaelia said amazingly keeping her anger and her bitterness in check. She could not lose her composure even if it was justified; it was just something a Shaman could never afford to do, especially around family. Thank the Star-Eyed for the moonpaths, Azaelia thought with unmatched gratitude.

Trough the moonpaths Azaelia was still able to speak with her mentor. The continued contact with Colemo was what had made her first year as an official Shaman easier than it could have been. It was Colemo who insisted Azaelia set out on this pilgrimage and Colemo who told Azaelia who to seek aid from. She sighed in exasperation at the idea of hunting down another Shaman, but because Colemo had insisted Azaelia had traveled to Kata'shin'a'in in search of a Shaman.

Pitching the tents did not take as long as Azaelia feared it would, everyone was anxious to browse through the shops that could be found at the annual horse fair. Therefore they went swiftly about their tasks. A profitable afternoon was then spent in perusing the various merchant tents, discovering items that merely caught their eyes or demanded to be bought. Illmene bought more trinkets than the young Shaman thought reasonable, although she herself spent time lightening her money pouches.

Azaelia could just not pass up the beautifully carved throwing knife she had found. The designed engraved on the silver handle was not only exquisite but also captivating; it consisted of a series of interwoven circles and it was impossible to tell when one began and the other ended. She also could not bear to leave behind the pair of silver bracelets she found. The craftsmanship was breath taking and the artist had haggled fiercely for a price. Azaelia may have spent more than she planned but it was worth every coin.

It was at the jewelry stall that Azaelia found herself literally bumping into the Shaman Colemo had spoken of. She had just purchased the bracelets, much to the annoyance of Illmene.

"You certainly took your time deciding to buy them, and much to long to bargain for them Azaelia." Illmene criticized her sister, even as her eyes eagerly scanned the crowd. Azaelia knew who her sister was looking for, and she knew that Illmene's annoyance wasn't directed at her. Typical Illmene, Azaelia thought rather indulgently, she wouldn't notice that Kavi's eyes have been following her every move all day and devouring the sight.

"I can't just throw my money away Illmene, even on lovely things, I had to make sure they were worth it. Go ahead if you are that eager to spend your money, I know my way back and will not get lost." Illmene snorted at that reply but sauntered off anyways having finally spotted her lover. Azaelia watched the two women make their way out of the market holding hands and walking very close to each other.

She turned quickly away from the sight not wanting to be tempted to wallow in self-pity. Unfortunately, she walked right into an elderly woman whose midnight hair was streaked with silver. Azaelia apologized excessively, but the old woman just ignored them.

"Do not worry child I am fine," the woman reassured her, "you on the other hand are not very observant. From the way Colemo spoke of you I would have expect differently, how disappointing."

"Pardon?" Azaelia asked completely taken aback by the woman. Her response was to laugh; it was a bright little laugh that instantly put Azaelia at ease.

"Come young laj'ele'ruvon let me guide you." With that cryptic remark, the woman left, clearly expecting Azaelia to follow. Follow she did, for she was curious and she rarely denied her curiosity.

They made their way out of the market and towards the area where the Grasscat Clan usually set up their camp. The woman led her to one tent in particular and holding the tent flap open motioned for Azaelia to enter.

"Please sit," she told Azaelia motioning to a cushion, "I am Simona shena Pretera'sedrin Shaman to the Grasscat Clan, and you are Azaelia shena Vuysher'edras Shaman to the Brothers of the Wolf, correct?" Azaelia could only nod. "Good," the woman said sitting down with a boneless grace that Azaelia hoped she would have at that age. "I believe Colemo wanted us to meet."

"How do you know this?" Azaelia inquired allow herself some suspicion. As unlikely as it was that this old woman wished her harm Azaelia was still cautious enough to doubt her claims. In fact she was ashamed that she had blindingly followed the woman to her tent already.

"I have met Colemo on my journeys on the moonpaths these past few weeks and she has spoken of her desire for me to guide you." Simona replied unperturbed by Azaelia's rude demand.

"Ah," Azaelia responded with growing comprehension, Simona smiled.

"I applaud you for your suspicion child, perhaps you are not as hopeless as I thought," came the barbed compliment. "In a normal case, I would have taken you to the place of the Crone Sworn Kal'enedril by now and you would have learned how our history is recorded. However, this is not a normal case, and that was not what Colemo meant to come from our meeting." Simona told her, not bothering to cloud the issue.

"Then why have us meet?" Azaelia asked with a slightly perplexed look. She felt comfortable showing her confusion to the more experienced Shaman, despite the rebuke it might earn her.

"That is the question," Simona replied with a sigh, "and for the answer we must travel to the moonpaths." She finished holding out both of her hands for Azaelia. The younger Shaman took her hands, without bothering to ask any more questions. Azaelia then closed her eyes, taking her cue form Simona, and prepared herself for the journey to the moonpaths.

Any member of the clans could make this journey, but only on the night of the full moon. The Sword sworn, however, could make the journey on any night they wished whether there was a moon or not. It was only the Shamans who had the right to journey to the moonpaths whenever they so wished, day or night, moon or no moon.

Therefore, with some trepidation, Azaelia allowed herself to fall into the familiar meditation and then sent her spirit out of her body and upwards, towards the heavens. She soon found her feet resting on what appeared to be a soiled path of sand. A path that dropped off suddenly on both sides, and above, beneath and around her was nothing but the stars.

She turned to her left and standing there was Simona, and the elder Shaman's spirit was not alone. Next to Simona, there was a woman that Azaelia did not often see on the moonpaths, although this was the woman's domain. The woman looked like any other Shina'ain, with dark hair and golden skin, the only difference was Her black clothing and Her eyes. Instead of being blue or any other color, they were nothing but the expanse of a starry night sky. The Star-Eyed in all of her glory, She came in Her aspect as the Warrior and not as the Crone as Azaelia would have expected.

"Well met my little laj'ele'ruvon," the Star-Eyed greeted Her Shaman. Azaelia bowed her head in response; she did not know how to address her Goddess, for she did not often speak with Her. The Star-Eyed smiled at Azaelia's formality. "What I am about to tell you is very important my Azaelia, you must pay attention." Azaelia nodded her assent. She began speaking and Azaelia was soon struck mindless but what she heard, such was the shock of it all.

The next thing she knew was that her spirit had returned to her physical body and Simona was now staring at her intently, waiting for her reaction.

"But that cannot be!" She exclaimed as soon as she realized where she was. "The Star-Eyed could not possibly want me to leave the Clans, to leave the Plains!"

"Yet it seems that that is exactly what She wants, child," Simona explained carefully.

" I am needed here, the Plains are my home! How can I leave my clan , how can She want me to leave Her?"

"You may be leaving the land of Her people Azaelia, but you will not be leaving Her. You shall still be Her Shaman, but She has seen that there is greater need for you elsewhere." Simona responded, telling Azaelia the exact same thing the Goddess had said.

"What of my clan? Who will be their Shaman?" Azaelia asked.

"I have had many apprentices, one of them or more will be willing to serve the Brothers of the Wolf as their Shaman." Was the logical answer, "You must leave Azaelia and you know this, you have felt it before now. The Star-Eyed only waited to tell you because She wanted to make sure the time was near. And when the time for leaving does come you will go without hesitation, you know this Azaelia as does She." Azaelia shook her head trying to deny all that Simona told her, but she knew the truth of it. On many occasions after meditation she had told Colemo that she felt that there was a task for her outside of the Dhorisha Plains.

"I am sorry Simona but I…"

"I understand Azaelia; just remember that you will be doing Her will." With that little bit of comfort Simona held open the tent flap for Azaelia once again. The younger Shaman left, after a mumbled and not all sincere thank you.

She made her way back to her own tent, in a haze unaware of others in the world. Upon reaching the dubious safety of her own tent, Azaelia unfolded her sleeping roll and plopped down on it. She did not care that her saddle bags still needed to be unpacked, or that she was still wearing the clothing she had traveled in. So exhausted was she that such things did not matter; soon Azaelia had fallen asleep and then even her dreams were troubled.

…..

Azaelia was awoken some time after midnight by the sound of a stallion's triumphant whinny. For a moment she laid on her sleeping roll confused, she did not remember seeing a stallion amongst the horses they had brought to sell. Most had been curs with a few geldings that were two sweet of temper for life on the plains. There had been no stallion's, and many Shin'a'in would not bring a stallion off the plains, they were too important for the breeding program. Azaelia soon figured that it was one of the other merchants' horses and decided to go back to sleep.

Just as she had found a new comfortable position on the pallet the stallion whinnied again, waking her up completely. Grumbling angrily to herself Azaelia threw her few blankets off and got up. She stormed to the tent flap and snapped it open only to be stop short by a magical sight.

There right in front of her framed by the moonlight was one of the tallest horses she had ever seen. He looked like a bit of moonlight spun into life, with his white coat and silvery hooves shining with an unearthly light. He carried himself in a way that made it clear that he was well aware of his unholy beauty. With his neck delicately arched and that silver wave of a mane flowing down over his shoulder. His tail was held high with a certain stubborn pride, and one foreleg was frozen in the act of pawing at the earth. In short, he was gorgeous and he knew it.

Azaelia was struck numb with amazement at the sight of this horse, and something in the back of her mind tugged at her memory. Why he looks like a leshya'e, Azaelia thought bemused. Then she shook herself out of her paralysis and moved to pet the unearthly stallion.

Suddenly she found herself looking straight into his eyes, and they were an intense sapphire blue that obliterated all thought. In the back of her mind, Azaelia heard:

.: I Choose you Azaelia shena Vuysher'edras, after all the years of waiting and the months of searching I Choose you.:.