Firewind

Chapter 2-Kathra

Monlae Desert. The most dangerous journey someone could ever make. Unlike other deserts, it has no oases and no known civilizations. Reaching freezing levels at night and burning temperatures during the day, caravans disappear often, never surviving the trip. There are no rivers or streams and if there were, they dried up long ago. The desert itself is a ten-day trip across in any direction. But that's on horseback. Depending on the sand storms, caravans could take up to a month or even more to make the journey. Which is why we rarely have people visit our town. Much less our Inn. It may be big but no one ever stays more than a day.

I grew up in the small village of Aniath, on the east side of the desert. I would never dream of leaving it. Mostly because my parents would never allow it. After all, who would do the dishes?

My parents own the Monlae Inn at the edge of Aniath closest to the desert. We're the first people to see someone arrive and the last to see someone leave. We see when someone heads in to never return, and we see when someone makes it out alive and never speaks of it again. Since people rarely survive the dangerous trek our inn is rarely full. My sister and I help our parents run the place. It'd be too expensive to hire help with so little business.

So, as usual, I was sweeping the kitchen and pretty much every other room in the place. It was quite a busy place before my parents owned it, back before the war. It has a well-sized tavern in the front, where the kitchen is. Our rooms are on top of that building. Then, outback through an archway, there is a courtyard that leads to eight rooms, with a giant apple tree in the middle. There is a second floor with nine more rooms. Off to the left, there is a door that leads to a path to our gardens and the stable. It's unfortunate that people rarely visit. It's such a beautiful place with lots of potted plants and ornate wooden arches. It must have been really popular once to have been this grand.

Now, the only person who stayed at the inn was an older man, probably the same age as my dad or a little older. He has chocolate brown wavy hair that is starting to gray that is always messy. Although his age, he is quite fit and is astonishingly strong. This is surprising because most of the time he's nursing a glass of red wine and sitting around. He's best friends with my dad and is practically an uncle to me and my sister. To us, he's just uncle Stor.

He always tells me and my sister these amazing stories about creatures made by the elemental spirits. Stories about giant ice monsters, evil storm clouds and tiny woodland pixies. Stories about the five continents and the Frae Isles. Stories about the Ritskilionoso. Stories about his travels all over Nuala. Stories about love, friendship and trust. Stories about war, hate and death.

My sister was in the tavern wiping the tables and whatever other odd jobs our mom put her up too. My mom was in the kitchen with me making soup and fresh loaves of bread in case anyone decided to show up. My uncle was outside cutting wood for the fire at night. My dad was working in the gardens we had outback. Everything was as it should be. Calm, quiet and busy. My mother loved putting people to work. I barely had time for myself and my interests. Not like I had any; I'm always working, how could I?

***

That night a huge thunderstorm hit. Too big to be normal weather. Lightning was flashing and lighting up my room. Thunder was shaking the whole inn. The town leaders came to every house to tell people to stay inside and be on the lookout for ritskilionoso or anything out of the ordinary. It was most likely because of them. Even though they supposedly left without a trace, our village has had problems with unexplanatory events, thunderstorms such as these and forest fires right after a rainstorm. Lots of people left because of this, claiming the village of Aniath was cursed. Last time we had a storm like this, three ritskilionoso appeared near our inn and disappeared just as quickly, taking the storm with them.