Tales of Naviena | Book 1, Whispers of the Sea. by Kahana Manley

Chapter 1, The breeze and the brick, Page 1

Smoldering ash blankets upon her hair. Barely breathing so settled so drifted but still very much alive, a sound of faint breath startles the leaves near her face. Bruised but not tainted by a blade and a small hint of life nestles within her heavy heart.

This was not a good night, family unknown, village destroyed and ravaged. Who were they, am I the only one whom survived. These thoughts rushed after her eyes were intrigued to open by the still sunlight kissing her side. Faintly remnant of the night before yet still cautious to attempt the regulation of a normal thought. Glimpses of that event will forever burden what was once happiness and innocents. She stumbles cautiously to her feet for those intruders whom impregnated those walls may still be lurking. Her extinct was not far off, in her gaze there was a man washing his face by the stream not too far from her. She felt along her backside to see if she had anything worth her defending position. One arrow remain, this would have to be a swift and accurate finishing. Perhaps she should have taken wisdom to practice the many nights before in her youthful aging but those twenty years of putting aside her only defense now would have to remain in regret. She also has a dagger, "if I miss I will take my own life then gift him pleasure of my living body." This is the final words she would tell herself if she is to miss. Embracement of the bow next to her she crouches down and pulls through the tightly strand that will let lose her only chance of surviving now. In an instant the arrow pierces through the back of his neck. No sounds of aid will escape from him. Today she was lucky. Maybe he was just a nomad who joined in the bloody thriller of raping a once peaceful village because to her surprise no others were near. Her ragged clothing compared to his warmly leathery armor and fur had second of any value. This will be her new life. She placed on the armory of what could fit her. The chest piece was a bit large but comfort is no longer an option, the boots are the highest value here nearly crafted and engraved with signatures of battle, this will protect her from rough ground and all the ailments the wet dirt would bring to unclean flesh. No time for emotions it is only time to move, she retrieves her only arrow, takes his small ax and rushes back into the mothering treeline that would conceal her existence .

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Chapter 1, The breeze and the brick

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