Private The Call of Home

[Aiwaz Khath]

Far beyond the reaches of the Sith Academy, miles past the Valley of the Dark Lords, across the treacherous and positively deadly deserts of Korriban's wastelands to the south, there resided an endless array of storms. Unnatural sand and lightning storms battled with one another over and over again in a deadly tempest of nightmarish proportion that stretched across the land for miles. Any traveller in these parts with as much of an inkling of wellbeing in mind for themselves would know full well to avoid the region entirely, and instead opt to hug the sides of the desert closer to the mountain ranges that flanked both its eastern and western frontiers.

But for those who knew - who were no more than a handful of incredibly secretive folk - knew exactly why these storms never lifted from their brutal battleground of nature. For these storms were not natural at all, but rather a manipulated manifestation formed through the Force by a community that greatly preferred to remain obscured from the other residents of the planet, and only those with the knowledge to pass through them unscathed would be granted the honour of exclusive entry.

It had been months since Aiwaz had been home. Ever since he first ventured out across the lands of Korriban alone, much had happened. He had gained a master amongst the Pretenders in the ways of the Dark Side, and an influential one in the Order at that. He had ventured ruins across the planet, frequented the new academy, and even gone off-world in a trial of worth. It was this last event that had shaken his being to the core, however, as he had met the most spectacular woman he did not even have the capacity to dream of.

Karala Midwan, the noble survivor of a centuries-old dynasty of his own species, had found her way across his path, just as he had found his way across hers. Ozzuk was a brutal trial for them both, and he came away with more than one scar, but had arisen victorious with the greatest trophy he could have hoped for. But it was only in the weeks that followed the events of Ozzuk, where Karla and Aiwaz had danced the night away in the company of several dozen peers beneath the stars, did the couple truly realise their love for one another, and this sparked the beginning of something truly astonishing between them.

The storms raged on the horizon. Aiwaz looked on as dust and stone, sand and bone swirled and roared relentlessly. He could feel the familiar sensation of home amidst its rich chaos. He looked to Karala and smiled silently with assurance. It was his first time entering from the outside, but he had seen countless of their traders come and go over the years, venturing out across the lands of Korriban and returning entirely unscathed as they passed the threshold back home.

His eyes closed and he reached out through the Force.
"Grandmother," he called forth towards the storms ahead. "I return." The storms remained for several minutes, apparently unhampered by his attempts to speak through it, but after some time a very visible, huge space ripped open amidst its chaos, as if the storm itself was inviting them to venture inward. He smiled as he could feel the sensation of his grandmother's silent, powerful aura echoing along a breeze that came to them. He smiled again to Karla, prompting his mount to march forward.

Riding through the huge eye in the storm back into the tribe was just as surreal as when he first ventured out several months passed, only this time he felt a shudder of familiar warmth, knowing he was returning home. How he had missed it. The storm dutifully remained still on either side of them as they passed through, two great walls of debris stretching up into the sky far beyond sight would allow. The air was intensely dry and Aiwaz pulled the cloth about his neck over his mouth and nose to shield himself from dust.

As they broke through to the other side, it was like walking through a portal where all had transformed about them. There it was. The tribe was alive and well, and as they trotted closer to the tents that housed his people - the storm's opening once again closing behind them - he noted the warm and welcoming smiles of familiar faces he was destined to rule and protect one day. He could hear his name muttered and exclaimed with excitement.

"Aiwaz!" came the cry of a young boy, who Aiwaz had grown fond of over the years and had treated as a little brother. He jumped down from his mount as the boy ran to him, jumping ambitiously into his chest. He gave the boy a squeeze.
"Teth, it's only been a few months and already you've grown so much!" The boy grinned as he sniffled, tears of joy streaming down his face. Aiwaz ruffled his thick, black hair. "You'll be a strong sword of Khath before you know it," he grinned back at him as he put him down.
"Tell me all about the outside!" cried Teth, dragging him by his hand towards the growing crowd of mutters and smiles. Meanwhile, a little girl ran up to Karla in innocent curiosity, grinning eagerly.
"Hello!" she said in her delicate voice. "What's your name?"
"Tanna, this is Karla. She's Pureblood just like us," explained Aiwaz as he was being pulled away.
"You're beautiful," gasped the little girl, giggling and pulling at Karla's hand, following Aiwaz and Teth. Aiwaz looked at Karla, shrugged, and grinned. Their tribe had never seen another of their species for as long as he had been alive, and he knew they were as pleased as he knew Karla would be to see them.

Moving through the small crowd of Purebloods, old and young alike, cheers of approval and welcome erupted about him as he was hugged and touched by many of those who had clearly missed his presence in the tribe. He grinned sheepishly, shy at all the attention he was suddenly receiving from them.

The children led them to a great hut that stood apart from the rest of the tents. About it hung bones and talismans, that rattled and sung around the fabric door. An elderly lady stepped from out of it, bringing the dense scent of incense with her. Her firm and fiery yellow eyes looked at Aiwaz, and she smiled warmly, stretching out his spindly arms and pulling him into an embrace.

"Grandson," she exclaimed, her bony arms squeezing him tight. She wore a simple black headdress and her face was adorned with jewelry that hung about her. Despite seeming like a little old lady, she resonated powerfully with the shadowy aspects of the Force that seemed to fuel every action and motion. It was intoxicating as always to behold. To Aiwaz, it was a familiar sense of home. "How handsome our prince is looking. The Force looks upon you with great favour."

Her gaze shifted to Karla, as she eyed her curiously, but not without welcome.
"A guest?" she said in a relaxed yet excited manner. "And one of our own."
"This is Karla Midwan, Grandmother. She is my love. I want her to see what we've built here. She hasn't seen many others like us out there." The old lady glided elegantly to her, observing her closely.
"Karla," she repeated, her curious gaze fixed on her. "I am Lunz, but you can call me Grandmother." Her smile warmed, her thin, bony hand gripping hers tightly, and a single tear fell across her cheek at the sight of another of their blood. "Midwan is an old name indeed. You are welcome here, for as long as you wish, young one."

Karala Midwan ​

 

[Karala Midwan]

The Path to Aiwaz Khath 's Clan was through the desert, she followed him through the terrain and part of the sands, to a location hidden from the Pretenders. As they entered the mountain range where they were flanked by.. children! Karla gilded eyes began to sparkle as she saw the progeny, that so many Purebloods had survived. At one a young lad came up to Aiwaz, and then a little girl who came to her whom was named Tanna. She remarked at how beautiful Karla was. Stooping down she held out her hand in a gesture to the little girl,
"Hello Tanna! It is a delight to meet you! Thank you for your kind words, you are very cute."
She was in a Suchivchi (heaven)! She ran her soft ruby hand through Tanna's hair who was remarking on her own, the beautiful Tu'kata black that their people were known for that was such a beautiful contrast to their skin.

From the Children they made their way to the Matriarch herself, the Grandmother, who embraced Karla as one of her own, telling her to address her thus. When Aiwaz said "This is my love." She melted inside, her heart leaping that he was professing his affection so boldly to the Grand Mother! Drawing near to her she said,
"It is a great owhâ (joy) to meet you! Your Grand Son has not only taken my heart, he has brought me here, to at last see the fruit of the long laid plans. There is much to share, though I shall wait till the time is proper."
She curtsied to the Grand Mother, showing her great respect, he long flowing black hairs rising in the wind, and her robes flapping as they were want to do. All of this was a whirlwind for the Revived Pure Blood, to have found the love of her life after having slumbered for nine centuries. Now he had brought her to his Clan, to meet those he loved, and those he would rule. Potentially her too, if their bond was to be marked in the manner of matrimony. He had not officially asked for her hand, they had only begun to court since the Dance the Darths had orchastrated. For all the follies and errors those dark lords made, they had brought them together and that was not something she could ignore. The Reclamation was not about destroying them, she knew better, and now that she had been restored to her people, to the Pure Caste, she owed them.

The Dark Side had truly favored both Aiwaz and Karla, and when the Grand Mother mentioned knowing Midwan, just as the Pure Blood Lord at the Dance knew it as well. She began to wonder if any others of her tribe had survived, since the name was still remembered. Her mind drifted to her father, as her eyes welled up with waters of woe, that day she had said fare well to him, never to see him again unless perhaps Suchivchi existed, and they were all reunited one day in that paradise.

 

[Aiwaz Khath]

Aiwaz noticed with both his eyes and through the Force how Karla's mood had slipped into melancholy, and he reached for her hand, holding it gently. He shot her a smile of assurance. Lunz was also smiling warmly to her as Karla spoke.
"We have so much to talk about, and you're welcome to stay for as long as you like," she reassured her. Her eyes glided back to her grandson. "How long will you be here?" Aiwaz thought about it a while.
"Not sure, Grandmother." Lunz stepped closer to him as her demeanour turned suddenly darker, her eyes serious and voice lowering.
"It's auspicious you have arrived when you have, Aiwaz, with the incoming eclipse. It is a time when the power of the Force is deeply empowered on this land, and we will hold a grand ritual and feast." She gripped Aiwaz's hand. "This would be the perfect time for your Hadzuska Kûsk." His Shadow Dream, a rite of passage within the tribe that all young men and women must go through, but as heir to the leading clan, Aiwaz's rite was of highest importance. "We shall summon the Siqsa of the Fourth Moon to grant us rejuvenated power and strengthen our bond to the Force. We should draw it down into your rite also." Aiwaz had fallen silent and thoughtful. A Siqsa was a powerful being indeed, but it was not uncommon for the tribe to draw down their power for such purposes. Combining this with his own Hadzuska Kûsk, however, was unlike anything he had heard of before. Was she proposing he become possessed by it? He looked into her golden eyes, which told of ancient secrets, and, trusting her, nodded firmly. Lunz squeezed her grandson's hand. "We will discuss it later. For now, you should go see your mother and father." His heart suddenly dropped at the thought of seeing his father, and an anxiety expanded through him, about his heart, as he suddenly feared what she would say of Karla.

Guided yet again by Teth and Tanna - who had been playing whilst the adults talked - they walked through into the main area of the tribe. It was a lively community of about fourty Purebloods, low in technology but self-sufficient and thriving as much as they could, who would send the occasional trader out to the towns beyond the other side of the desert when the need arose. The tent network spiralled around a large central yurt which held the banner of Clan Khath proudly above. The yurt's fabric door was guarded by two soldiers armed with spears who, despite their savage expressions, let small smiles of recognition pass towards Aiwaz as they saw him. They nodded at him as they pulled open the door to he and Karla.

Inside seemed far larger than one would have imagined looking at it from the outside. The entrance space was a large, well-kept circular room lit by candlelight. Weapons, beast pelts and bones were hung all around the walls, and there was a smell of smoke coming from the roaring pit that sat in the centre, its smoke coming up through the hole at the top of the tent. Around the fire saw a young girl, no older than Karla, who upon raising her head and seeing Aiwaz, stood up with a start. Her hair was dyed red to match her skin, and she wore a basic tunic like the rest of the tribe. She stepped quickly to him.

"Brother!" she shrieked, flinging herself into his arms. Aiwaz smiled and gave her a squeeze. In return, she shot a familiar mischievous grin at him, and then to Karla. "I didn't know you were bringing your girlfriend!" Barely able to contain herself, she excitedly pulled Karla into a hug as well without a moment's hesitation. "I'm Shen, Aiwaz's most perfect little sister, but I'm sure you've heard all about me," she giggled. Aiwaz groaned. Same old Shen. "Oh my goodness, your hair is to DIE for. How do you get it so smooth? The sand here sucks, it's so hard to keep the grit out blegh."
"Shen," came a deep voice. Beyond the next fabric door to the next room of the tent, one could see the silhouette of a man flickering in candlelight.
Shen immediately went quiet and scurried off, but not before whispering with a wink to Karla, "Talk later, kay?"
The fabric door opened seemingly of its own accord to reveal the imposing figure of a man, armoured in traditional steel and fur clothing, dark orange eyes glaring outward.
"Son," he said, barely a greeting and more of a statement. "Back already." The man barely looked at him, instead focusing on the fire that stood between himself and Aiwaz and Karla. "Though I did say, return only when you've mastered the Pretenders' arts and have a plan to overthrow them. I trust you have progress with that."
"The plans changed, father." His voice broke whilst he spoke, he usual stern and stoic demeanour suddenly melting away in the presence of his father. His father made a noise as if amused, only it was a sound of obvious contempt. "War is not the way. There are other ways, and besides..." His voice trailed off. "They're not all so bad..." To that, his father spat into the fire and it hissed in response.
"And this? Who do you bring into my home uninvited." His savage eyes flitted up towards Karla, as he peered at her over the flames. "Name?"

Karala Midwan​

 

[Karala Midwan]

Karla gave a very respectful bow to the Grand Mother, who she sensed, from interaction between Aiwaz Khath and her that they were close. When she heard about this ritual, this "Hadzuska Kûsk." She knew of it well, a customn even in her own clan, in which the Tribe gathered and called forth the power of the Darkness, like a great flame to pour on to the Potentiate, and see if they were worthy of the mantel of Tsis. She had undergone a similar rite before her long slumber, though it was rushed due to perils of the time. Leaning towards Aiwaz she supported the Grand Mother's insistance,
"You must Aiwaz, I know too well how times slips away, and that you may not get another chance to preform this sacred rite of passage."
Her mind drifted for a moment to her Father, and few who had called the Malotre' Saud (Sacred Fire) to test her before she was then smothered in Ice for nine centuries...

The mention of Aiwaz's Father and Mother made Karla nervous, she clung to his arm as they began to navigate the tent city, and made their way to the most prominent tent, a Yurt, which as Aiwaz parted the leathery canvas like door as curtain, they stepped in and she felt a chill overcome her. It was as if she was back in the pod once more.. then a exclamation of excitement as a Young Pureblood Woman came and embraced her Beloved. She declared him Brother, which made Karla relieved it was not a suitor, for she had not considered that meeting on Ozzuk and then their romantic blossoming at the dance that he might already be betrothed to someone else..
Introducing herself, Shen was full of youthful exuberance, and she gave her a great smile as she said,
"I had a freezing routine that seemed to keep my hair thus.." this attempt at a joke made her laugh aloud. When Shen was called away, and said they should talk later she gave a nod with a smile, leaning over to Aiwaz she said, "I like her."

Then they came to the polar opposite, where the cold she had feltn before. Despite the inner Yurt having a bonefire, the chill of the dark side was strong, and it was swirling around the figure who presented themselves with the demeanor of a warlord. This was the Father.. already meeting the parents and Karla was intimidated. When he asked for her name, she blurted out, "Karla Midwan." His eyes were piercing, and made her feel as welcome as sink hole. Though this did not phase Karla in the way he might intend, she knew that the pairing of Aiwaz and her was going to be unusual, that was simply because she came from a distant past, one she had not told him much about, nor had she gotten into she was 900yrs his senior, well not in body or spirit, but according to time. To her them coming together was by the matchmaking Typhojem, a strange title to give the Left Handed god, for that was not what he was known for, but to her his tendrils were at work in all this, bringing her from the past to help be part of Aiwaz's future. The Past and the Future of the Sith, together and in love in the Present. It almost was perfect for a holobook, and scarcely would anyone would believe it save for The Force did work in mysterious ways...

 

[Aiwaz Khath]

"Karla Midwan," repeated the man deliberately and slowly, as if weighing the value of each word. His face stretched in a way that could not be understood as calm or gentle. His eyes flitted back to his son. "You defy my orders and bring an uninvited whore into my house. Do you so yearn to shame me, whelp? After everything I've done for you?" He scoffed, turning his back intentionally to the boy. Rage bubbled through Aiwaz uncontrollably, and his fist whitened against his nails as they into his palm, fingers curling and stiffening into a fist. I'll kill him. The words flooded his mind. He has no right.

"Husband," came the mature voice of a female, and through the fabric door beyond came another figure. The man said nothing, but turned his head slightly as a slender hand touched his shoulder. A woman of about the same age of Aiwaz's father stood in the flickering half-light, and her shadowy figure became one of definite physicality as she stepped further into the light towards her son. "Aiwaz, come." Her voice was as stern as her husband's, but there was a certain warmth to it. A warmth that cut like ice regardless. She held herself fiercely, as fiercely if not more so than her husband. Long black hair fell down her back, neatly held in place by ornate sticks. Draped about her was an elegant purple and gold dress that made her seem like some sort of bureaucrat, and adorned about her neck and on her hands were golden pendants, rings and armlets signifying her status and position in the tribe. Her eyes were no less red and fierce than the man she stood beside.

"Mother," said Aiwaz, walking cautiously into a hug. She embraced him gently. She smelled of sandalwood and oud, as always. But she did not smile. She never smiled. Neither of them did. She looked up to Karla, her face not giving away any emotion.
"You are a guest here, and you are welcome. For as long as you are here, you shall have room and board." Her eyes flitted to her husband and her voice was suddenly heavy with intention. "And you shall be considered one of us." Her husband, who had maintained a stoic repose seemed to almost falter in the flickering firelight, and his wife's voice cut through the air with an undeniable authority that he would not disobey. She looked back to Karla, and one would be mistaken for thinking she shot a smile across the fire, though it may well have been merely a trick of the light. "It's not often we find others of our blood from beyond our clan, and it seems..." Eyes slunk across to her son with intrigue. "...that my son has a certain interest in you." It was obvious that she was looking at them through the Force, and Aiwaz was aware how easily it must have been to his parents to determine their love and the aura they had already begun to build together through the invisible planes of existence. Aiwaz, suddenly shy, looked to the fire for comfort, as his father slunk away into the room behind again, scoffing all the while. The woman gave a smirk of amusement. "I am Kerra Khath, matriarch of this tribe. My less diplomatic husband is Rathka. Together we rule this flock of survivors, and our family has done so for generations." She held herself straight and noble, as if giving some sort formal address to an audience. She was not warm in the traditional sense, but she gave the feeling a ferocious mother rancor might give protecting her brood; savage, composed, utterly empowered. She invited the guests to sit by the fire as she, herself, took a wooden stump and placed herself down. "Tell me... Karla Midwan was it? What is your intention with our son?" Unable to say anything, Aiwaz merely looked helplessly to Karla, hoping she understood the importance of this meeting.



Karala Midwan

 

[Karala Midwan]

The form of address, calling her a whore was beyond the pale, Karala turned to leave, she could feel the anger in Aiwaz Khath boiling as well, but before she could extricate herself, another came forth, a Woman whom Aiwaz addressed as Mother. She had not slumber nine centuries to be treating thus, all the best hopes of Clan Midwan lie in her, and the manner of this Patriarch of Khath made her want to claw his eyes out, and yet she knew that he was beneath her. True power was never in insults, he was decaying husk of a man, a greater foe does not resort to insults, and so actually all he had shown is his weakness. The Mother was by far more congenial, offering her place among the Clan, which seemed rather advantageous. As she explained her cruel spoken husband and her ruled this Clan, she began to reconsider, for looking at the Father, she had a glimpse of the Man Aiwaz might become, in fact, certain to become if he allowed his hate of the man to take root, for as all knew, "that which one hates one becomes."

The Matriarch became bolder, her inquiry clear to Karala, no veil, simple and to the point. Intentions, yes that was the word. Crossing her arms she decided to throw something into this scenario that could shake the balance, for she was in middle of a den of suspicious tribe folk. So she said,
"Surly you can see painted on our faces can you not? The mark of Nulis (love) on us both?" Her words seemed to irritate Rathka as she began to walk about the room,
"Or perhaps you hope it is Shâsot (passion) and it shall pass." She walked over and took Aiwaz hand, in a gesture to taunt The Father, and perhaps make the Mother curious.
"Saraai (truth) be told.. I am too old for your Son."
She let out a chuckle at this, as she let go, and crossed her arms, and did not elaborate on the fact she was from nine centuries in the past, and has passed the period in cryostasis. Why tell them? She owed them nothing, it was Aiwaz to whom she had a bond, as far as she was concerned she would support him committing Patricide. As for the Mother, she seemed inquisitive, and perhaps she had a shred of Vik'dyt (Honor) to her, so she decided against some reservations to not form judgements about her for Aiwaz' sake. Though she exceedingly preferred The Grandmother and His Sister. After taking a breath she then said,
"I thank you for your hospitality Kerra," she giving a slight bow, and she then did not give Rathka another look when she said,
"This 'Whore' needs a place to clean up, is there somewhere I can go and wash the sand from my feet?"
In her Clan it was custom to clean the feet of guests with fresh waters, wipe them with a purple cloth, and give them oils to put behind their ears and rub around their forehead. She would have to tend to this herself...

 

[Aiwaz Khath]

Kerra bristled a little at her guest's comment, but her cool and elegant composure remained.
"You can ignore the primitive language my husband uses," she assured her. She leaned forward and whispered in Karla's ear, away from earshot or even Aiwaz. "We both know it's the women who always call the shots. Stick with me. You're always welcome." She stepped back and turned her attention to her son again. "Aiwaz, your grandmother tells me we will have a great ritual and feast soon. I take it you will be there?" Aiwaz nodded silently. "Good," she said without missing a beat. "Then Karla Midwan is our guest of honour." The way she spoke was always drenched in a sense of authority and precise, pragmatic decision. It was clear who ran the shots around here. "Aiwaz, it's rude to not show a lady her room. Off to go."
"Yes, mother," said Aiwaz, reaching for Karla's hand and guiding her out of the tent. In truth, was just glad to get out of there finally. Any audience with his parents was enough to send him insane.

Aiwaz's tent was separate from his parents', which he was always grateful for. It was large enough to house two people, back when it was occupied by both Aiwaz and his brother, but since his brother's premature departure Aiwaz had inherited the entire place for himself. Once upon a time, his whole life was in this tent. As they stepped through, he took a moment to take in the atmosphere of an older life that was rapidly escaping him. Neatly organised as always, there was an array of trinkets from all eras of his childhood. Wooden trinkets and toys along drawer tops, and a wooden sword hanging above; a datapad or two of Korriban and galactic history neatly placed on a shelf amongst stone tablets and paper books; several skulls of beasts Aiwaz had hunted during his maturity; a single, small bed against one of the walls; a washing area opposite; and at the centre a cold and empty fire pit sat ready for its next spark.

"I'm sorry about them, my love" Aiwaz said quietly to Karla. "They can be... tough people. I was glad to get away from here, and it's... strange being back..." He mused a while, reflecting on his life in this room and in this community. He was welcomed back with open arms by most, but after being away for so long now, he no longer felt as though he belonged there. The people he cared about, all those Purebloods who would one day be under his own care, he was grateful for, but he couldn't help but feel disconnected from his duty. He was no longer anchored to his home.

Karala Midwan​

 

[Karala Midwan]

The words of Kerra, that it was the women who truly called the shots made her smile. While yes Male Sith were the head, the Women were the neck and they could turn it this way or that way, because they possessed something far more enticing than the dark side of the Force, or perhaps rather an aspect of it that was able to conquer the most stone of hearts, passion.
She gave nod to her and said,
"I shall look foward to your training in these matters." She gave a wink to Kerra, "For my Mother is not able to school me in the arts of masculine management." She let out a chuckle that followed, a playful one.
Her heart sank a little, for her mind drifted to her Mother, Razaya, a gentle woman whom her Father worshiped. She remembered fondly how her Mother would rub her Father's aching back after a battle, and he would hold her in his arms into the late hours, it was perhaps this image that was ever fixed in her heart, and why when she looked upon Aiwaz Khath that she hoped to replicate such a happy bond. Though the Father he had was as warm as Tauntaun's hind in a blizzard.

When Kerra said that she would be the "Guest of Honor," she saw a rather sower sigh from The Father, though that did not matter. Karla had been accepted, so it seemed by the more important person in the pair, for it seemed Aiwaz was drawn to Matriachs, the Grand Mother, and this his Mother. Which gave her some hope that indeed she would be an aid to him. Karla did not have a lot of time to think of her own ambitions in this, save that she had deep feelings for Aiwaz, and she foresaw them having their own tribe, a Kath-Midwan, that would help her people survive, and provide him with an Heir. Though it was not as clinically as all that in this pair bonding, Karla upon first seeing him had feel her heart beat for the first time since she came out cyro, and so while this whole thing was whirlwind romance, she did not mind getting lost in the proverbial Sand Storm.

When they were given leave to go to Aiwaz's Tent, they left the Great Tent, Karla doing curtsy to Kerra out of respect. Once inside Aiw was beginning to apologize for his parents, and she gave a smile,
"I think your Mother is quite lovely." She drew closer to him and placing her arms around his waist as she looked int his eyes,
"This ritual, what does it entail?" She wanted to press her lips to his and let the feelings she had take shape and well.. escape and let them both express themselves in the physical, but she wanted to Aiwaz to take the lead in this. For his Father was a "real piece of work," and he needed his own confidence. She made her intentions clear with the touch, closing the distance of their bodies, but she wanted to keep the focus on what he might be pondering.
"I want you to understand something Aiw.. I am in this for the long haul. I slept for centuries, and now I shall stand for every second left that I breath as your life mate. Together we will help both our tribes survive, and The Reclamation in due time will come forth."
Her gilded eyes were full of warmth, like gold melting in a pot to be spread and forged, this was her very soul bubbling to the surface, and it was his...

TAG: Aiwaz Khath