Chapter 2 Shakith and the Unicorn
Young and free. Kylaia al Jmaa steps onto her hard bed. Her white hair is piled atop her head in a braid. The smooth linen rubs against her skin, and her soft nightgown. Two whole years have passed by. She, the Shang Unicorn, had stayed put in one spot for two years. Her child of three years sighs in an attached room. She wanted to go somewhere, and she could, but something was wrong. She did not long for the warm sands of the Bazhir lands, the Pine Mountains of the Roof of the World, the sweet, Tortallan coast. Nor did she want the spicy hot of Carthak, the hill lands, the ignorant air of young Tyra, Tusaine, Maren, Scanra, Isles and all other places. What called her was far.
She snuggled into a ball, and gathered her blankets around her. "I'm going weak" she told herself with disguste as she fell asleep.
Dressed as a common boy, Kylaia stands outside a great barrack complex. Mountains, and pine trees seclude the barracks. The Shang insignia is shone everywhere. No one seems to see her there. Novices rush everywhere, completing tasks. She walks as if her steps are guided by invisible hands rushing her to the geography barrack. She stops outside a room with dim lights from the setting sun. The warm wood walls and floor smell of pine. At the back center of the room is a young girl of six writing on a slate. The girl has large dark eyes, thin fierce eyebrows, pale skin, and white hair. Kylaia walks to her younger self and seems to enter her mind.
"The capital of Tyra is Tyra city. Tyra's prosperity began when the dominion jewel was used. . .Maren. . . Tortall. . . The Yamani Isles. . . no further has man's exploration gone. what is beyond the Yamani Isles is only mythesized and dreamed. It is believed to be the homeland of the old ones." Kylaia pauses in reciting her geography facts.
"Someday I will go adventuring in faraway places."
The scenery melts and conforms to a practice court. The air smells more humid than the Grimhold mountains. The Palace of Tortall. Standing beside ten year old Kylaia is the Shang Wildcat. The Wildcat is watching the moves of an older boy. Liam Armstrong shows some intricate kicks he learned lately. Kylaia has always respected to to be Dragon, but has always felt envy green for him. He always knew and could do more than her.
"I wish I were far away where I wouldn't be humiliated by that boy"
Now, eighteen year old Kylaia faces ten giant Bazhir raiders. They completely surround her, with drawn weapons.
"Any corner of the world but here"
The cold blasted through the layers of clothes on her. Struggling, she makes a fire. Looking around, she saw mountains, pines, and glistening white snow. Twenty year old Kylaia walks into a considerably warmer tavern. After conferring with the owner, she takes off the layers of her clothes in her room. Walking downstairs, she spots the owner with a young man. He is about her age, skinny, not muscular, but apparently paints very well. He painted so many places Kylaia had seen, and had not.
"He's a traveler too" She tells herself. They would meet again.
Twenty four, Lady Kylaia al Jmaa of Sweet Water Cove awakens to the dawn sun. She thanks Shakith, guardian of the rootless, for guidance as well as more questions. She walks onto the open balcony. The veils of fine silk framing the arched door wave in the breeze. Her nightgown flows back towards the bed as her hair catches the early sunlight. She curls up onto the sofa in the lap of her husband. He wraps his paint streaked arms around her, cradleing her like a fragile baby. The Sun peeks between the mountain tops, shining directly trough Taliea Pass, casting a narrow stip of light across the balcony. In a few moments, the sun would have risen, the servants cooking, and the baby woken. But now, she was watching the sun rise, being embraced by her one love. She knew the sun might rise every morning, but being with him would not.
