The Last M'Sai of The Northward Sky

The story of a young M'Sai warrior, and her journey from Adohmai, and through the stars.

Chapter 1

((To set the mood, I suggest listening to this while reading:

))

I will be posting this in chapters. It's a pretty long segment, and I am still working on writing it. Please enjoy! If you like it, please, drop a post! Also, constructive criticism is always, always appreciated.

((I love posting stories, but I never know if people like or dislike em. Do tell me if you enjoyed it or not. ))

Edited September 2, 2016 by Guest

Chapter 1

We are a people of strong resolve,

Never back down, retreat or fall,

My brothers and sisters,

To Arms, To Arms!

March on through the mountain snow,

For the high peak’s our fortress,

And the Twin Suns cast their holy glow!

My brothers and sisters,

To Arms, To Arms!

The chilling winds will pierce our foes,

Will drain the strength of all that oppose!

But we embrace this forbidden plight,

And so, To Arms! We march and fight!

To Arms, my brothers and sisters!

To Arms, To Arms!

For the high peak’s our fortress,

And even as the cold winds blow,

We sing our song with pride and joy,

The M’Sai of the Northward Sky!

To Arms, To Arms!

We lift our voices high!

To Arms, To Arms!

The M’Sai of the Northward sky!

The Tajaran children sang with high spirits, their M’Sai fur blending in with the bitterly snowy mountains that they called home. It was beginning to wane into the evening hours, and as the Twin Suns set, their parents called for them to return to their homes.

It was nearing the end of the year 2433, nearing the end of the vicious, violent war that upheaved this planet and tore it apart. But the wars had barely touched the lands up north, where small alcoves of noble families managed to retain their power, thanks to undying love and loyalty of their supporters. This town was one such example – a town built of proud, pure-blooded M’Sai warriors, swearing undying allegiance to their equally proud N’jarir Nobles.

One child in particular was ever so eager to grow up and join her parents, to carry a rifle and shoot down the evil enemies encroaching on their sovereign territory. But this young one’s dreams were still dreams, and as a child, her fantasies were not blemished by the realities of war.

All that was going to change overnight.

===

“You are my little shadow, my sweet child,” her mother nuzzled the little girl as she tucked her in to sleep. Their house had no beds, but enveloped in the comfort of luxurious furs, they did not need one.

The child hugged her mother in return. “When is daddy coming home?” she asked.

“Tonight,” her mother replied. “But you will be asleep.”

“Mom, tell me the story of our people again?” The child asked sleepily.

The mother smiled, her arms wrapped around the little child. “Again? Alright.” She nodded.

“Long ago, several generations before you, The Noble Family of Jak’rravi ruled the lands far south of where we are today,” she nodded to the cartography map hanging on the wall. There were several green, red and blue pins pressed into it, but the child didn’t know what any of those pins meant. “This was back when there were many Lords and Ladies of N’jarir, and the Jak’rravi were one of many. They were very wealthy, but they were also very feeble, and very foolish.”

“North of them, were the lands of the Nik’yata. The Jak’rravi were very jealous of the Nik’yata. Their lands had valuable mines and beautiful forests. Their workers and warriors were very strong and proud. The Nik’yata were also highly intelligent, many of their princes and princesses becoming scholars, artists, and engineers. They would share their gifts with their people, for those they deemed worthy. The Jak’rravi had nothing to be proud of, and they squandered what little they did have, so they were indeed, very jealous.

The little girl nodded. While she knew how the story would go, she loved hearing it time and time again.

“One day, the Jak’rravi gathered all their people, warriors and peasants alike, arming them with weapons and marching into the Nik’yata’s land. They launched a vicious attack. Taken completely by surprise, many non-fighters of Nik’yata’s people, the Hharar and Zhan, were slain. Armies of the Nik’yata had no time to respond to the outlying towns and villages, and they were scattered about in the mountains. They did not suspect such treachery of the Jak’rravi.”

“I’m sure the peasants tried to fight back?” the little girl asked.

“I’m sure they did,” the mother replied. “But these were peaceful folk. They relied on the M’Sai to protect them.”

“As the Jak’rravi marched their armies onward, they sieged the castle of the Nik’yata. By now, they had picked off the small pockets of M’Sai warriors who were unfortunate to cross their large armies, and slain them one by one. In the end, there was not enough soldiers to defend the Nik’yata, and the Nik’yata themselves were peaceful scholars, not fighters.”

“Then what?” the child asked.

“Then, after many, many days, they broke through the castle’s defenses and flooded through the gates. The Nik’yata nobles stood little chance against the massive army, and only one of them managed to escape.”

“I’krola Nik’yata,” the child said.

“Yes, I’krola Nik’yata was but a teen at that time: he was not even old enough to be considered an adult,” the mother said. “So he fled and escaped, taking a secret route into the mountains.”

The child smiled, twitching her tail. The next part of the story was the part she loved.

“He was cold, lost, and his silken clothes were hardly suited for the brutal wilderness,” the mother said. “And as the twin suns set, he knew he could not survive the night. He lifted his voice to the sky, and cried out a desperate plea.”

“He said, ‘Messa and S’raandar, my enemies have pillaged my home, slain my people, and murdered my family. I am I’krola, a prince of Nik’yata! By bloodright, this is my land. I beg you, beseech you, by your dying light, Messa, have mercy on me. Give me an army to avenge my family, and retake what is rightfully mine!”

The child was wide awake now. “Then what?” she asked, grinning.

“Well,” the mother said, “You know how the story goes. The Goddesses heard his plea. S’raandar had granted I’krola the right of rule, and Messa had provided him the right to keep that rule. As the last of Messa’s light waned over the horizon, the blanket of night settled across the mountains. The stars high above lit up the night sky, like jewels in the sea of black. And sixteen of those stars…fell to Adohmai.”

“The stars fell around the prince, and where each one landed, stood a fierce M’Sai warrior. Eight men, eight women. They were the gifts of Twin Goddesses. The M’Sai of the Northward Sky.”

The mother smiled, hugging her daughter. “Your ancestors.”

The child grinned as the mother continued. “Sixteen warriors against a hundred soldiers, but it was enough. I’krola dropped to his knees, promising if they win this battle, he would forever honor these men and women warriors, and the descendants that would come. All sixteen swore allegiances to him, and together, they marched back to the castle, and retake it from the Jak’rravi nobles.”

“And next?” the child asked eagerly.

“And next you go to sleep,” the mother replied, tucking her daughter in.

The child pouted. “Mom!”

“You know how the story goes,” the mother said. “You’ve heard it a hundred times. They marched back in, and drove the Jak’rravi out. From there, they rebuilt the kingdom of the Nik’yata. I’krola was the ruler, and your ancestors stood by his side, and the land prospered for many generations. You know that.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t sound as epic when you make it so short,” the child grumbled.

The mother laughed. “You need to sleep,” she said. “It is late. And even the descendant of a falling star needs to sleep.” She hugged her daughter, singing a sweet lullaby. “Born by the Twin’s Holy Light, the shadows of the starlit night,” she smiled. “You know your name means Shadow, right?”

“I know mom,” She said, snuggling in to her mother’s embrace, as her mother continued talking.

“Little Shadow, as white as the snow. You can hide in plain sight, like a shadow’s hidden glow. For you are the jeweled light, of the starlit night,” her mother hummed the familiar lullaby, rocking her daughter to sleep.

===

It was several hours later, when a loud blast shook the foundations of the house, rocking the child awake. She stirred, catching the scent of burning smoke and ash. “…Mom?” she called out. Twitching her tail, she climbed out of the furs and peered out the door.

What greeted here was a terrifying sight. The houses were burning, with terrifying silhouettes cast by the flames. A clatter in the back, making the child jump.

She turned around, spying her father. “Oku?!” he called out, using the Tajaran word for his family. He was disheveled, his hunter’s garb shredded in a few places. He swung a rifle on his back, and the smell of blood – fresh blood on his boots.

He spotted his daughter, eyes wide and confused. He reached down and scooped her up. “We must get out-”

He barely finished his sentence as another blast shook the house. The child screamed, terrified, watching the roof behind her and her father come crashing down, barely missing them. Her father immediately raced out the front door, stumbling down the porch and running through the street. “RETREAT!!” he screamed, neighbors pulling back from makeshift barricades. “Retreat and scatter into the forest!!”

“Don’t look back,” he whispered to his child, yanking a grenade from his belt and flinging it behind them, down the path. He raced off, into the pitch black of night. There was a bang, the grenade bursting and spraying shrapnel at the advancing intruders.

===

They fled for a long time, the father carrying his daughter in his arms. Once he put enough distance between themselves and the town, he slowed his pace to catch his breath, which came as misty puffs in the freezing night air.

His ears perked straight up. He adjusted his gear with one hand, still carrying his daughter in the other. “We’re being followed,” he said.

“…How can you be sure?” the daughter asked. She had been silent this whole time, too terrified to speak.

The father pointed to a nearby incline. There was a glow being cast somewhere further down the mountain, reflecting back on the snow. “flashlights,” he said, climbing up the incline.

“Why are they after us?” The child asked, scared.

“Because we are the last line of defense for the Noble family,” her father replied, setting his child down and peering over the edge of the cliff. Sure enough, down below were three figures carrying flashlights, swaying the beam about to cut through the thick dark of night. “If we fall,” he said, “they fall.”

He studied the figures down below. “Come,” he said. There was urgency in his voice. He took his daughter’s hand and led her to the edge of the forest, settling her in the soft snow. “Bury yourself in the snow,” he ordered her, “And hide. Do not make a sound.”

“But-”

“I will come back for you,” he whispered. “I promise.”

Her father took his rifle in hand, trudging back down the path they had come. The daughter quickly dug out a small pit, scooping snow over herself, hiding. Just like the many games she would play with her friends, hiding in the snow in a game of ‘seek and find’. But now, she was hiding for her life. It was frigid and cold, and even with her thick protective fur, the snow would bite into her skin. She shut her eyes tight, desperately praying to the twin gods.

A shot rang out in the darkness. She stiffened underneath the cold blanket. Another shot was swiftly fired, then another, and another, before ending in silence. The child remained as still and silent as possible, not daring to move. For what was only mere minutes, felt like an eternity to her.

Her terrified breath came in rapid succession, quick and silent. Her heart was pounding in her chest. Underneath the snow, she picked up the smell of a strange…stench. It was putrid, almost like sweat, mixed in with the acrid smoke. A crunch of snow sounded to her left. She shifted her head, just slightly, freezing at the sight of a black boot, inches from her face.

It was not her father’s boot.

Whoever it was, the smell was coming from them. “Kah Peest!” he bellowed out. It was some strange language that the child had never heard before. “Camaut ov ahd-eeng!”

The child shut her eyes tight, terrified. She struggled to not make a sound, nor move a muscle. She wanted to scream in terror, but she remained silent, not even daring to breathe. I’m a Shadow, a Shadow of the starlit night. I can hide in plain sight.

There was another crunch of snow, and a startled cry split the silence. The boot fell back, away from her vision. There was a muted struggle, followed a sickening snap. The child picked up a new, fresh scent. Strange and foreign, yet still recognizable. Blood.

There was silence. “Shadow?”

It was her father’s voice. The little girl pushed herself up, shaking off her cover of snow. Her eyes were wide and anxious. “Daddy?!”

He knelt close by, relieved. Sweat matted his brow, and he was huffing in the frigid night. He was still alert, with his ears cocked back, listening for sounds. He looked down at the unmoving body by his knees – the strange…individual, that was not a Tajara.

The daughter shook off the rest of the snow from her clothes, staring at her father’s slain victim. “…What is that?” she asked. The figure was dressed in unfamiliar clothes – not fur or cloth, and made of some kind of strange, slippery material. On the arm of the jacket was a strip of blue, with an odd, unfamiliar symbol. It was silver, with two vertical strips, crossed by a diagonal line. Although she did not recognize it at the time, it was the letter N. The individual’s face was pale, naked without fur. His nose and lips were pink, oddly disproportionate. The hair was black and greasy, short and unkempt. Its blank, brown eyes stared unfocused at the stars above.

“That’s a human,” her father said, shifting his weight to stand. He seized up and yelped, grabbing his leg.

“Father!” the daughter scrambled to his side, confused. Her father gasped, pulling his hand away, silently staring at the splotch of blood seeping in from underneath his clothes.

“You’re hurt,” the daughter said, worry in her voice. but the father shook his head. “We can’t stay here,” he said, struggling to stand. “More will come. We must reach the castle.”

Despite her protest, the father picked up his daughter and continued down the path. There was no time to waste.

===

With his injury, the M’Sai warrior could not keep up with the same quickened pace he had started with. Regardless, he trudged on, straining through the bitter cold, and only stopping for a few minutes at a time to rest. The chilling winds slashed through their protective clothes, threatening to freeze them with frostbites and burns. At times, the soft snow was so deep the father would sink to knees, so he carried his daughter on his shoulders for the majority of the trip. They weaved through the forests and cliffs, using nothing but their keen memory on the passages through the deadly teeth of cliffs.

Despite her young age, the daughter was trained and disciplined enough to keep her young eyes to the surrounding area, piercing the shroud of night and searching for any of the dangers of the unforgiving mountains – predators, traps, sheer drops, and now…alien men with guns. She’d tug her father’s ear if she spotted something, and he would turn his head toward the direction of her signal, training his own senses to determine if it was a true threat or not. If he was convinced there was nothing dangerous, he would trudge on. They continued on like this for many hours, never speaking a word. They could not risk breaking the silence of the night, and alerting their enemies of their presence. After all, mountains like these could carry one’s voice a very great distance.

Despite all their efforts, it was in vain. As they broke through the last line of trees, they stood high above another sharp peak. The twin suns were beginning to rise, casting their chilling glow over the barren and frigid landscape. They illuminated a dreadful sight.

Smoke and ash was billowing up, carried away by the merciless winds. The proud towers of the Nik’yata’s castle, protected by the surrounding snow-capped peaks, were drenched in a plume of haze. Specks of red tinder were carried off through the blue-gray air, chilling on contact and disappearing into dust. There was nothing but endless silence.

Father and daughter stood at the cliffs, unmoving, for a very long time.

Chapter two plz? I need to know what happened to the cats