The Mark of the Aeri - Chapter 1

THE MARK OF THE AERI

         ONE
Araf Caris was a simple man. A herder just on the outskirts of the great walls protecting the town of Kaville. It was near the end of the 1506th cycle of the imperial calender. Meaning the cold months were upon the imperial regions. Making Araf's life absolutely miserable. Or it would be, if it weren't for his beauty of a wife, Ashan.

Everyone they knew would always jibe at Ashan's Highlander heritage, hailing from the highlands of the Eastern Wastes gave her a sturdy build which only served to augment her people's already naturally tall and muscular frame. Standing next to her modestly built husband was often a chance for friendly mockery. The mismatched couple did not mind though, for they had found love, something they knew very few people will ever truly experience.

And although Ashan felt a way for Araf that she could never explain well enough using the foreign imperial language she's still yet to properly master, she used to bid him goodnight every evening by calling him her 'arektosh'. Araf would ask her every night what that meant to which she would simply reply 'that for me to know, you find out someday maybe', in her deeply accented version of imperial. Araf didn't know her language, he wasn't even that particularly bright. But when Ashan was in a time of need four years ago, when she stumbled into the outskirts of Kaville severely beaten by unknown assailants, Araf was the one to see to her.

For weeks Araf would do his daily workload, then return home to where he gave up his bed for the beautiful yellow-haired highlander. Her bruising slowly faded, and one night she invited Araf to lay with her. That night they made love for the first time and have done every night since.

Ashan had always felt that the so-called civilized races that make up the general term of 'Mainlanders' were just one massive contradiction. In her travels across the imperial regions, she had seen wondrous settlements protected by massive walls. She had come across luxurious materials and food, and weapon-smithing far superior to that in the highlands. Despite all these advances compared to her own collective civilization of simple tribes, there was just as much, and sometimes even more cruelty. She would be labelled as a barbarian, a savage, yet Ashan had never performed a cruel deed in these foreign lands, while herself receiving her fair share of cruelty.

Much like the barbaric nobility of the general highland populations, Ashan was raised with a deep sense of honour. This is what originally caused her to invite Araf to lay with her; what gave her reason to stay with him for several weeks and helping him expand his grazing lands. Over time though she came to genuinely love this kind mainlander. Araf's stature was not at all impressive, which would be the most important aspect to an average Highlander. And if Ashan had ever returned to her tribe with the man, she would be declared an outcast by the chief.

So it was her decision to stay with this simpleton of a man. He had no intention of travelling, no ambition to become wealthier. His income from selling fleeces, milk and meat from his hoofed stock was enough to survive. A boring life, Ashan sometimes thought. But she was alive, and had this man to thank for it.

At first, Araf hated it when Ashan would under-mind his abilities. Such as today, a particularly large member of his herd had barged straight through the fence at the edge of his grazing land. The coldness Araf has become accustomed to during the end of a cycle had iced the fences, making certain sections extremely weak. Ashan insisted she'd get the ram back while he stood guard so no more of his herd followed through the break in the fence. In the first couple years Araf wouldn't even consider such a thing, he was the man and he wanted to take care of wife, no matter that she is nearly a head taller and proven to be the physical superior in both quickness and strength. It had been imprinted in his head from birth, the man provides. He would forget she was from an entirely different land, thinking of her just as an unusually tall girl with freakishly coloured hair and eyes. After the first couple of years with Ashan however, he accepted her as his equal in terms of their roles.

And he'd have to admit, she was damn good at his job. Araf watched her for a good eight minutes bounding after the agile ram, having near-misses several times until she finally got a good grip on the ever-growing horn protruding from it's broad forehead. Much worth could be gained from such horns in the Kaville marketplace, a few more months and he'd ring the ram's neck and be glad of it for all the trouble it's caused. With a great grin on her face, Ashan dragged the beast back with her, the string that bound her hair loosening and falling into the long frostbitten grass. Yellow strands blowing in the wind, the highlander's beauty betrayed her so-called savage nature.

“Shek'a! Araf, when your seeds will finally reach me, by the grand Krom I hope our young will have same herding skills as me. For despite you're life of herding, you really should be better at this my lovely arektosh.” Jested Ashan.

“Ahaha ahem, yes my triumphant, fearless love. Let's hope he has my looks however, eh?” Came a reply from Araf.

Grooming the fleeces of the livestock, Ashan watches her husband's handywork as he mends the destroyed fence section. Ashan had always had to admit to herself, he had a boyish charm, and a handsome face that was especially pleasing to her eye. Much softer and friendlier looking than the typical males where she come from. Yet even in his thick furs she disliked his small stature