Origins of Kioi

[b4dfr0g]

“Thirsty, always thirsty on our trek through the wastelands... Dry gritty mouth, chapped lips and aching sunburns.”

I walked as best I could for one so young, when I could not walk my mother carried me. Our rag tag band of nomads had grown in size as we traveled a mix of all the races, on this journey to freedom in the new lands of promise. Another day like the countless ones before it, marching and marching, barely any rest until the scout called a halt to the long day of travel.

It was on one of those innumerable long days of marching when the chittering began; only one maybe two at first, then it became a chorus of many Kitin. The nomad band began to take up arms as the Kitin’s song of death became louder and louder as they approached. My mother pulled a water skin from beneath her traveling garb while frantically looking around at our meager surroundings. She pulled me forcibly nearly dragging me behind her. When she stopped she tore at my traveling clothes leaving me nearly naked, then she bit open the wax sealed stopper on the skin and doused me with the liquid inside. “It will cover your scent from the Kitin.” She told me as she rubbed it all over me. “Now into that burrow you must hide and not make a sound, no matter what happens do not cry out or make any noise! Be brave my son.” I did as I was told and crawled into what was the den of an animal of some kind.

The clattering and screams began almost as soon as I was in my hole. I dared to peek out of the small entry and could see my mother spraying the same liquid on herself then wedging herself between some large rocks jutting up from the ground. It was over quickly the group of refugees being made up mostly of families with very few warriors among them, and even fewer weapons other than for hunting small animals to sustain themselves. The screams ended and the horrid noise of the Kitin became the only sound I could hear.

Then I saw a Kitin approaching the rock outcropping… It was searching as if it sensed something or someone was there. My mother wedged as she was could not see it looming up over her, raising its chitinous leg blades high to strike. Down the blades go one after another…

I nearly throw myself out of the hammock in my apartment as I awake in a cold sweat…

I roll out of the hammock and reach for the bottle of stinga rum sitting on the table. Uncorking it I take four or five swallows of rum before setting it back down. Knowing I will get no more rest this night I splash some cold water from the wash basin on my face and towel off. Deciding that some fresh air would be good I tie on my blue Ry-Lithen sarong and step out of my room into the cool night air. The chill night air caresses my still wet skin, if it was the dampness of my body or the memory that caused me to shiver I can not be certain. After all these years that night so long ago still haunts me…


Even though I don’t want to remember the memory forces itself into my thoughts…

I can not recall how long I was in the small hole, the long empty den of some creature. I dared not move or make any noise for the fear of the Kitin returning to find me. If it was one night, two or even three that passed I have no clue. Nothing came to feed on the carnage inflicted by the Kitin, that’s how desolate the wasteland we traveled was.

Then on one day I heard voices and the snorting of mektoubs. I could not see them from my hiding place but from the sounds I heard they were searching the remains. Then I saw a man rummaging around the remains of my mother. Something primal erupted in me as I seen light glint off my mothers necklace, her most prized possession; it had been my fathers and was all my mother had left of him. This man was taking it! Rage welled up in me and my hand brushed over something, it was one side of a curved jaw bone maybe from a capryni, with most the teeth still in it, but whitened and smooth from many seasons in the desert. It fit well in my hand with the teeth of the jaw curving outward beneath my clenched fist.

The light reflected off the necklace again as it was clutched in his fist. The man was opening a pouch on his belt to put it inside, my eyes on the necklace I exploded from my hiding place. Rage guided me; I punched my fist in a wide arc aiming at his hand letting the jaw lead the attack. The teeth found the flesh on the back of his hand and bit into it drawing a small line of red. The man cursed in a combination of pain and surprise dropping the necklace. It barely hit the ground when I snatched it up and scampered back to my hole to hide with my prize in hand.

I do not know what the man said it was a language I had heard from other refugees on our journey. I few men with weapons at the ready came into my view looking at the small warren I was hiding in. What a sight I must have been, the trapper’s fluid had dried and became tacky causing the sand and dirt to stick all over me.

I grin trying to imagine what a mess I must have been with all that dirt caked on me. My hand reaches up to feel the necklace rubbing it between my fingers.

I return to my room either the cold night air or the memories have given me the chills. I grab a bottle of stinga rum from the shelf as I pass it on the way to the cushioned booth and table in the corner of my apartment. I fill a shot glass with rum and swallow it down relaxing a bit as the warm feeling burns in my stomach. Ghosts from the past will always haunt you, memories are impossible to hide from…

Tired and scared was all I felt while clutching tightly to my mother’s necklace. I thought for certain the scavengers were going to kill me. They kept talking to each other some of the words I knew most I did not, the bits I did understand were mostly “come out child” or “we won’t hurt you” and “we will help you”. I hurt one of them and didn’t trust their words.

One of them then came very near to the entrance of my hiding place and unfastened the hood, long blonde hair escaping, and removed the dust mask from her face. “Come out little one, we will take care of you.” She spoke softly and held her arms out inviting me. I glanced apprehensively towards the man I had hurt, able to see the line of red on his hand. “I won’t let him hurt you, it’s alright you’re safe now.” Her voice was soft and reassuring and her arms still open waiting for me. I cautiously crawled out of the burrow looking around at all the homin’s gathered around watching me. It was a small group of perhaps a dozen not families and all were brandishing weapons. “That’s it over here.” The soothing voice drew me to her, and as soon as I was near she wrapped her arms around me, held me tight, and lifted me up.

I was carried near one of the mektoub’s and given water and a slice of a melon. The Lady spoke softly to me the whole time and told me her name was Nalraya. She cleaned my face with a damp cloth and draped a shirt much too large over me. The mektoub was stripped of most its load so we could ride it. Most of the bags and gear were placed on the other two mektoub’s but a few bags were picked up and carried by the travelers themselves. We soon departed I was cradled in the lady’s arms, she began singing softly, and to my surprise it was the same lullaby my mother used to sing to me! With the swaying of the mektoub and song I fell fast asleep.

I think several days passed, I slept through much of it. The few times I did awake Nalraya was always there with some water and something for me to eat. We then arrived at an oasis early one afternoon. I was given a thorough washing and some slightly better fitting clothes to wear. After being cleaned up Nalraya took me to the camp and we sat in a tent where I ate and drank.

One of the men came in the tent then I knew by the bandage on his hand it was the one I had cut. I swallowed hard as fear crept up my spine. He must have seen the change on my face because he smiled at me then spoke. “Good to see you well boy. I am Akai leader of this band.” I just nodded at him. “The yubo got your tongue?” Nalraya told him that I had not said a word at all. The two of them spoke softly so I could not hear, and then Akai left the tent.

Nalraya told me another man was going to come and see me, to make sure I was alright. I smiled to her and nodded yes. A short time later the strangest thing…man…homin I ever saw entered the tent. He was gigantic and had to remain stooped inside the tent. He had blue skin and wore a brightly colored mask with horns shooting off at odd angles. I had no idea what to think having never seen a Zorai before. “My name is Zunar young Tryker. I am a mystic and healer.” His voice had a funny accent and I smiled when he spoke. “I just want to have a look at you to be certain you are alright, is that ok?” he asked me. I nodded yes while still grinning about how he sounded. Zunar had me remove my shirt then he gently examined me finally resting both his hands on each side of my head. He began a low chant and I thought I felt some energy passing through me. Once he had finished looking me over Akai came into the tent again.

I sat in Nalraya’s lap as the two men discussed Zunar’s findings. Everything was fine I had suffered no injuries and was healthy. Zunar believed the shock and trauma of the Kitin attack had affected me and in time I would speak again. Akai nodded in understanding. “A hard thing for one so young to see.” He looked at me again. “We must call him something, he survived a Kitin attack and half starved got the jump on me. He has the spirit of a fighter, we shall call him Kioi.” Akai smiled at me and ruffled my hair before leaving the tent.

That is how I got my name and how I was found and raised by a new family, they may not have been family by blood but they worked and endured much together. So began my upbringing with a band of smugglers.

[legokid]

*hugs Kioi*

Im sorry for your loss Kioi, Aqua and I also lost you parents at a young age, but you lost them at such a young age its just makes one wonder

"If my parents are dead why should contuine to live, i have no one to watch over me or be my friend."

When ever you think of that time remeber this, these are words that a friend and my mother told me.

"When someone you love leaves or dies don't cry, they live on and if you listen and feel the winds that wrappes around you you'll feel the ones you lost.

[rabcaz]

A tale of a past covered with sadness and great loss indeed.

But even if it seemed dark the happenings brought you to new friends.
It is never easy nor simple to loose someone, this I indeed know,
but even though it seems impossible one must try to struggle on.

Thank you for sharing this tale my friend.

// Drakfot

[riveit]

Thank you for sharing your tale with us, Kioi.

[OOC: a beautifully written one! ]