Izznet H'unar
Journeyman
The long day of moving Mirian to the new house was exhausting and exciting at the same time. A chance to begin fresh and new was proving exhilarating, yet oddly depressing. Staring into a newly hung mirror, Izznet’s mind flashed to a distant memory. As a deer caught in a bright light, she stood as the misty image swirled around her like buzzing bees.
Her long ice white braid glimmered as sparkling silver leaves reflected the candle light. Emerald eyes staring back at her held a determination and resolve honed by years of preparation for a task she did not want. The desire was to study with the High Priestess, not hold the House. Here she was facing the day she was to be presented as next Matriarch.
Hearing the crisp staccato of her sandals against stone echo in the cavern brought a gritty look of pride to her smile. Thick smoke and the acrid smell of spilled blood turned the vision sour. Immediately turning to her escorts the glimmer of a sword hilt caught her eye. Grabbing the blade, in one fluid motion she spun relieving both escorts of their heads. The empty thud and squishy roll of bodies falling and heads rolling shook her from the vision.
One final glance into the reflective glass showed her eyes that were unfamiliar. The emerald eyes were faded and had a rusty hue belonging to another. A distant whisper on the wind, “That was it!” made Izznet question if the Bale Fire were speaking to her. There was something about the scene that felt awkward and not quite right, yet oddly empowering.
“You really need a nap, Izzy,” she chuckled to herself.
The day drifted onward and the progress in the new space seemed to miraculously fix itself. There was laughter and joyous chattering that served as background noise to the thoughts in Izznet’s mind. Sitting at the bar sipping hot coffee and easing sore muscles allowed for the gentle grace of slumber to tug at her eyelids.
Settling in next to Aedon, eyes barely closed when the image began afresh. Standing on the bow of a mighty ship allowing the salty sea breezes to fling her hair wildly about brought a smile that made her feel alive. Moonlight on the water had always been one of her favorite images. There was an overwhelming sense of power, love and endless possibility that hovered around her like butterflies on the wind.
A sky full of sparkling stars and the full moons lit the deck casting playful shadows over wood beams and thick sails. Inspired to dance, she took up the double blades, and as if to the cadence of the waves, stepped out into the presence of the Dark Maiden. The singing silver blades rang across the water accompanied with the rhythmic lap of wood and sea. Step. Kick. Spin. Jab. Draw of a sweeping arch introduced a sinister figure to the dance.
Towering high above the dancing figure the Drider laughed a malicious evil laugh that darkened the shadows and dimmed the moonlight. A pause, a breath, a determined step brought the song back into full beat. Opening it’s hand releasing dizzying orbs meant to confound made it necessary for Izznet to close her eyes. Spinning and dodging the orbs brought the singing blades viciously close to the cursed creature on deck.
Spitting webs and trying to step on the dancer made the monstrous spider Drow cause the ship to rock against the waves. The gentle sway of wood on water turned turbulent. Dipping dangerously from side to side had the cross beams of the main mast kissing the waves. As if by foolish will a large dark raven touched the crow’s nest to sit at the pendulum’s apex to watch.
Sea legs and spider legs continued the chase. Tip toeing between the legs of the spider, slicing with each pass, was making Izznet difficult to hit. Finally hitting the mark, the creature released a gurgling cackle that thudded against the sails. It was momentarily confused by the non response of its foe.
“I am Izznet H’unar of House H’unar. Your poison is of no consequence to me, foul beast!”
The taunt elicited a stream of vile curses and renewed viciousness against the lone dancer. Jabbing stomps from pointed feet left splintered holes in the deck. Webs spewed to entrap hung heavy on the sails and masts. Every turn served only to entangle the raging beast. Each time Izznet came close she struck a deep slice from a silver blade.
The great beast slipped in puddles of its own blood mixed with sizzling poison that soaked the wooden floor. Utterly befuddled at the progress of the battle, the monster stood quiet a moment reassessing the battlefield. A glimmer of terror flashed behind the eyes of the Drider quickly replaced with resolve.
“You will die by my hand, Drow!”
“Not today, fiend.”
“Take the jab, Izznet,” a low whisper breathed into her ear.
Opening her eyes, Izznet found the target. The Drider was standing directly over her, its body hid the light of the moons, yet the reflection of armor revealed a weakness. Between the body of the spider and the body of the Drow was a junction still healing from when parts were meshed together. Taking a step and swinging wide with both blades she hit the mark. Severing body from body the sickening sound of the death scream flooded the air.
The battles complete the great ship returned upright and bobbing gently on the tides as if nothing had happened. Finally the quaking body stilled allowing the night sounds to resume their song to the Moon. Izznet stood in the middle of the deck surrounded by blood and webs. Tilting her head back she released a long low song of mourning to what had once been a sister. When she opened her eyes and gazed into the eyes of the fallen foe the blood rushed from her face. Those eyes! They were hers, yet not.
“Well done, child.” The voice whispered across the waves carried by a soft flap of wings.
Her long ice white braid glimmered as sparkling silver leaves reflected the candle light. Emerald eyes staring back at her held a determination and resolve honed by years of preparation for a task she did not want. The desire was to study with the High Priestess, not hold the House. Here she was facing the day she was to be presented as next Matriarch.
Hearing the crisp staccato of her sandals against stone echo in the cavern brought a gritty look of pride to her smile. Thick smoke and the acrid smell of spilled blood turned the vision sour. Immediately turning to her escorts the glimmer of a sword hilt caught her eye. Grabbing the blade, in one fluid motion she spun relieving both escorts of their heads. The empty thud and squishy roll of bodies falling and heads rolling shook her from the vision.
One final glance into the reflective glass showed her eyes that were unfamiliar. The emerald eyes were faded and had a rusty hue belonging to another. A distant whisper on the wind, “That was it!” made Izznet question if the Bale Fire were speaking to her. There was something about the scene that felt awkward and not quite right, yet oddly empowering.
“You really need a nap, Izzy,” she chuckled to herself.
The day drifted onward and the progress in the new space seemed to miraculously fix itself. There was laughter and joyous chattering that served as background noise to the thoughts in Izznet’s mind. Sitting at the bar sipping hot coffee and easing sore muscles allowed for the gentle grace of slumber to tug at her eyelids.
Settling in next to Aedon, eyes barely closed when the image began afresh. Standing on the bow of a mighty ship allowing the salty sea breezes to fling her hair wildly about brought a smile that made her feel alive. Moonlight on the water had always been one of her favorite images. There was an overwhelming sense of power, love and endless possibility that hovered around her like butterflies on the wind.
A sky full of sparkling stars and the full moons lit the deck casting playful shadows over wood beams and thick sails. Inspired to dance, she took up the double blades, and as if to the cadence of the waves, stepped out into the presence of the Dark Maiden. The singing silver blades rang across the water accompanied with the rhythmic lap of wood and sea. Step. Kick. Spin. Jab. Draw of a sweeping arch introduced a sinister figure to the dance.
Towering high above the dancing figure the Drider laughed a malicious evil laugh that darkened the shadows and dimmed the moonlight. A pause, a breath, a determined step brought the song back into full beat. Opening it’s hand releasing dizzying orbs meant to confound made it necessary for Izznet to close her eyes. Spinning and dodging the orbs brought the singing blades viciously close to the cursed creature on deck.
Spitting webs and trying to step on the dancer made the monstrous spider Drow cause the ship to rock against the waves. The gentle sway of wood on water turned turbulent. Dipping dangerously from side to side had the cross beams of the main mast kissing the waves. As if by foolish will a large dark raven touched the crow’s nest to sit at the pendulum’s apex to watch.
Sea legs and spider legs continued the chase. Tip toeing between the legs of the spider, slicing with each pass, was making Izznet difficult to hit. Finally hitting the mark, the creature released a gurgling cackle that thudded against the sails. It was momentarily confused by the non response of its foe.
“I am Izznet H’unar of House H’unar. Your poison is of no consequence to me, foul beast!”
The taunt elicited a stream of vile curses and renewed viciousness against the lone dancer. Jabbing stomps from pointed feet left splintered holes in the deck. Webs spewed to entrap hung heavy on the sails and masts. Every turn served only to entangle the raging beast. Each time Izznet came close she struck a deep slice from a silver blade.
The great beast slipped in puddles of its own blood mixed with sizzling poison that soaked the wooden floor. Utterly befuddled at the progress of the battle, the monster stood quiet a moment reassessing the battlefield. A glimmer of terror flashed behind the eyes of the Drider quickly replaced with resolve.
“You will die by my hand, Drow!”
“Not today, fiend.”
“Take the jab, Izznet,” a low whisper breathed into her ear.
Opening her eyes, Izznet found the target. The Drider was standing directly over her, its body hid the light of the moons, yet the reflection of armor revealed a weakness. Between the body of the spider and the body of the Drow was a junction still healing from when parts were meshed together. Taking a step and swinging wide with both blades she hit the mark. Severing body from body the sickening sound of the death scream flooded the air.
The battles complete the great ship returned upright and bobbing gently on the tides as if nothing had happened. Finally the quaking body stilled allowing the night sounds to resume their song to the Moon. Izznet stood in the middle of the deck surrounded by blood and webs. Tilting her head back she released a long low song of mourning to what had once been a sister. When she opened her eyes and gazed into the eyes of the fallen foe the blood rushed from her face. Those eyes! They were hers, yet not.
“Well done, child.” The voice whispered across the waves carried by a soft flap of wings.