Atysian Sagas

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The Stories of Us All

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My mother and father met in a wild place between great civilizations. She was a great forager for the Fyros people and he a Matis of Noble house journeying to discuss an alliance with one of the friendlier renegade tribes. That very tribe raised me, and still holds great feasts and tell tales of that day.

A lesser bandit tribe had ambushed them (whether he came to her aid or she to his depends on whom is telling the tale!) and together they fought. The rage of the bandits increased as each of their tribe fell. As they perished, their numbers seemed to be replenished, as others came to avenge the fresh losses. [Many bandit lives ended forever, since neither the Kami nor the Karavan, will succor those that prey on their servants.] The furious commotion that was that shambles quickly attracted much attention. Wild beasts, predators, scavengers and grazing animals, came to witness the fury that raged on, and also to prey on survivor and victim alike. The sun began to set, making the two bloody swords of my mother gleam red with her vengeance as they sang through the air. My father smashed men together or rent them apart with such fury that it was difficult to properly count those he slew. The suns last rays were all that illuminated the scene when the woman I call "grandmother" arrived with guards of her tribe.

The few remaining bandits were driven off. My mother and father were bourne back to safety, as they had been seriously wounded and needed healing. Their wounds required many days of resting, yet they fell in love long before that time was complete. They stayed with the tribe, who welcome them as family, mostly to raise me where I might be shielded from the bigotries of either race. Father knew the Matis people, and his family in particular, would never approve, for they are ever suspicious of the Fyros; even now the peace between them is tenuous at best. My mother is loath to keep him far from his people and position, since he has been a great force in easing tensions between the great peoples. He is away often, in the great city of Yrkanis, but returns as often as he is able. He laughingly complains that every time he returns to his beautiful women he must endure a three-day hangover following the tribe's celebrations.

This troubled time has brought a shadow, even over this happy tribe. A time has come to forget our differences, homins, because unity is all that will shield us from Oblivion. I must now leave these happy people so that I may prepare and grow in strength, for every one of us will be needed in the coming battles. There is much preparation to do, the battles will be hard, and many will fall.

It is my dearest wish that when we finally win (for we must) we will recognize the new bonds between us. Bonds of blood and bone, forged like steel in a great fire. From that moment on we must be true to our new bond, or our precious victory may degenerate to hollow irony.
The old times will be done, friend homins, and a new era began. The old rivalries and hatreds must also die with the past, giving way to our new bonds. We will have a new Golden Age to build bridges and mend fences, and Atys will prosper in ways not seen since before the Great Fire.

When I was born, my parents agreed to name me in a language of the Old Tongues, spoken on Atys long ago - all but forgotten even before the Great Fire of Coriolis.
I am Fyros, and I am Matis.

Chtomelji means bridge.


"You must be the change you wish to see in the world"
- Mahatma Gandhi

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I remember the stories that my mother told
Of dangerous desert creatures, their dread sight
Remembered ‘round the campfires late at night
Of the great Fyros warriors, mighty and bold

Of Pyr! O Mighty City! Tireless walls and ramparts
Home of the noble Fyros that wield fire and steel
The Emperor's wondrous palace; fine sparkling jewel!
Fortress of the desert, shielding courageous hearts

So powerful the tales, so memorable the words
That my dreams were short-sighted; far too meager
To be great as the Fyros of legends, Yes! I am eager
To be remembered in songs that shame the birds!

Much have I leaned, and so much sweat
Great friendships were made; so many were kind
Fine advice they gave; my wounds they did bind
These trials are long, but I cannot forget

That my heart is yearning, awaiting the day
When the energy I feel and the Kami consult
Fiery desert I shall scour, and the Dragon hunt
I will yet be with you, Mighty Pyr, so far away

For long shall I toil, and ever strive
Ever stronger become, and thirst for the day
This journey is complete, and I proudly say:
O Majestic Pyr; I have arrived!