Chaart Acrat 1 - The Flying Bride

Prologue

For many years, Owata had been staring at Siarme's black hair every time she got a chance, admiring his way to move so nobly, yet in a manly way, carrying his tall frame effortlessly. She had been aware of the chief's son's great popularity among the girls of the village, she had known that he belonged to a different world, and still she had not turned her head away ashamed when he had responded her stare with a sharp gaze of copper brown eyes. She had known that Siarme was a selfish and arrogant Tsher, but she hadn't given up the belief that people could change.

It was not until she had started reaching the marriageable age that she had let her dreams be faded away by common sense, and started to imagine what it would be like to live with another Fiaan. Growing food or taking care of animals, yes, she liked animals, it might not had been bad at all. With some luck she may had got that friendly Jart from the house next to hers to marry her. She could have been happy.

Now, as she was looking in the eyes of an old woman who dared to call herself Soothsayer Raakshe, she could feel her world turning upside down.

"Sia... Siarme Aca?" Owata's mother stuttered.

The old woman shut her eyes and nodded. "That's my decision."

Owata and her mother were sitting on the floor of the tent, freezed. Owata moved her eyes from the soothsayer's eyes to the brown papers lying on the table in front of her and rubbed her throat. She felt like choking. "But that's not... It is not..."

"Not possible?" The woman laughed hoarsely. "It's my job to define what's possible in this village! If you are unhappy, you can still cancel the whole marriage and live alone for the rest of your life."

Owata gave a glance at her mother. Her eyes were widened. "Owata. This is something that happens once a millennium. Not even that often."

Mother's face was telling it all. Owata had no choices.