Chapter One

The noise in the room could be heard outside. The loud yelling of people insulting and degrading each other, the yells of people trying to reach bargains before the allotted time. She entered, the hood of her black cape shadowing her face, and saw the flourish of colors that stood above the tables that stood for cities, guilds, and tribes. She looked around trying to find some people from her guild even though she knew there would be none from her tribe.

Some of the men she passed stared at her and some sneered. She removed the hood and pulled her long white hair out from under its covering. Some of the men stopped and turned back to their tables whispering urgently to their companions, others flared with anger and hate but did not approach. She purposefully strode past them when she caught a glimpse of what might be a flag from her guild. While she walked, she unbuttoned the front of her cape and by the time she had gotten to the table with two welcoming faces she had whipped off her cloak and folded it over her arm. Her black skirt swirled around her legs over her black suede boots. Her blood red bodice sat atop a belt two inches wide of the same material as her cape. Material so black that you might think it was going to engulf you. From her waist hung her sword, engraved with symbols of power and strength.

“Ladies?” she approached.

“You are welcome, sister,” the smaller of the two greeted her as custom dictated.

“Do sit and share with us your tales and journeys,” the larger of the two said, not paying to much attention but fiddling with the items in front of her.

“I thank you sisters.” She sat down next to the larger and laid her cloak over the table.

The larger and taller of the two women seemed to have a merry disposition like that of a content barkeeper who always tasted his products. She laughed heartily and seemed to like the sound of her laughter. She wore a dress of swirling of oranges, yellows and reds which made her look as if she was surrounded by flames. Her bare arms had a tattoo of flames falling from her shoulders and down to her fingertips. She had to be a person of some prominence to be given those markings. The tribe of fire, no doubt.

The other woman was quieter and seemed reserved in her manner. Her dress suggested a sunrise, its layered effects of blues, yellows, and pinks. Her hair seemed to float slightly, like she was over a slight whirlwind blowing softly around her. She would also be of a high position within her tribe, most likely the tribe of air. Only women of great power and knowledge had that kind of presence.

She glanced at the variety of item in front of the two women and the larger nodded for her to go ahead and examine them. Most were rings and charms of different colors and symbols. Some were talismans from different nations. She picked up a bright florescent green ring of thin wires that all interlaced to form a small claw at the tip. The ring was too small to fit her smallest finger properly. Before she could get it away from her pinkie, the thin strands of metal loosened and wrapped themselves around her little finger.

“For rituals, only to be used on yourself. It has a nice little spell on it that forbids the use on other people without their permission,” the larger woman spoke of her wares.

“You designed it yourself?”

“Incredible, don’t you think,” the other women smiled as the first started to pick up her over items and place them into a small bag.

“Very nice. How much would you sell it for, or is it not for sale?”

“I will sell it to you for, well, what have you got?

“I will give you three full crowns and the blessing of my people.”

The woman laughed. “Done! And I’ll be getting a lot more then I thought. Not that there is anything wrong with it mind you, but that color is not in large demand and is usually hardest to sell. Now let us strike hands on the deal and be friends. I greet you with honor. I am Kretia from the tribe of Fafnir near the city of Helm. Our sister here tells me her name is Gamin from the Sairys tribe near the city of Croman. And you are?”

“I am Jenova. I hail form a tribe on the eastern border near Kershan. I am from the sisterhood of Tad Ekam.” She said the last words very carefully and respectfully. The woman’s eyes grew with astonishment and awe and Gamin jerked her head up to look at her now.

Two men barged through the isles and seated themselves next to Jenova. They wore plain brown clothing. Each had a dagger at their waist and both leered at the women, laughing.

The older of the two snickered at his companion. “So this is where the witchy women sit. I wonder if they’ll put a spell on us for sitting near them.”

“Really, what can they do. They are only women,” the younger said mockingly.

“The only thing they are good for is cooking and bearing our brats.”

The older man laughed loudly and turned towards Jenova and her companions.

The younger hopped up and sat on the table leaning in front of his friend.

“What say you, witch. Why don’t you do as you’re told and let me have some brats from your fine body. You’ve looks enough to be worth something if you can’t cook. Eh, what say you and I go have some fun?”

“I’d say you are a male pig who is ignorant about everything other than what is in his pants and you should leave…” Jenova stated calmly.

“What you gonna do, turn me into a toad?”

Kretia piped in next. “You men are fools. You have no idea who or what you are even dealing with.” She grinned bearing her teeth, enjoying every minute.

Jenova just wanted to get out of the situation. She had no time for this sort of squabble. “It’s alright sister.” She put a hand on Kretia arm. “Ignore them. They are fools who have probably drunk too much anyway and certainly not worth our time.”

The younger man reached around his friend and grabbed hold of Jenova’s other hand. “Fools you say! I’d rather be a fool then a whore witch like you!”

“I am of a long line of Amazon blood and not in the mood to deal with fools such as yourself. Please let go of my hand and leave us now.”

“I think she likes me, what do you think,” the younger said still holding Jenova’s hand tightly.

“I think you should take her to your bunk and show her how to be a real woman.”

Jenova tried to pull her hand away gently but firmly but the man would not let go. He stood up and brought his arm over his friend head.

“I will only ask you once more. Let go of my hand and leave us.”

“Look at the fire in her eyes. She will be so much fun to break. Are you afraid that I may hurt you?” he said the last sheepishly. “Don’t worry I’ll be gentle.”

He squeezed and raised Jenova’s hand to try to get her to stand. She, of course, obliged the young fool as Kretia and Gamin gathered their things and Jenova’s cape and stood at the end of the table.

“I asked you to let go of my hand and you refused. I feel that I have given you enough warning. Now I will tell you to let go of my hand. I do not want to harm anyone, especially a weakling male like yourself.”

“A weakling, eh!” He started squeezing her hand enough to make most people flinch.

She stared at him and started to squeeze back. He looked at her trying to figure out what she was doing. The he realized that the majority of the pressure was coming from her grip and not his. He looked at his friend in astonishment and tried to say something. Jenova tightened her grip enough bringing the man to his knees. A few of the people surrounding them turned to see the commotion, decided it was a disagreement on price, and then returned to their own business. His friend grabbed onto their hands and tried to loosen her grip, which at this point could break his hand if she wished.

“Let go!” the younger man begged in pain. His friend stood moved to strike her. As his fist came forward and was about to contact her jaw, Jenova’s other hand flew up, caught his fist and threw it back at him. He stumbled back and stood staring in awe. The younger man continued begging for her to release him until he whimpered.

She quickly let go of his hand throwing him back in disgust.

“Next time, mind your manners and when someone asks you nicely to do something, do it.” She sneered at him then snapped around and addressed the other two women as she started walking past them. “Let’s find somewhere more pleasant to talk.”

Kretia and Gamin fell into step behind her as she swept up her cape from Kretia’s hands and swung it around her shoulders. She strode back to the door and onto the docks.

“I swear, Gamin, I will never figure out how they do that.” Kretia sputtered as they quickly followed Jenova.

“What do you mean?”

“Where in the world do they get their power and how do they control it? You and me are easy to explain, we get our power from the elements, but the women from the clan of Tad Ekam? I’ll never figure that one out.”

When they got outside, a young girl in her early-teens approached them.

“Kretia, are you finished in there already?” the girl asked.

“Oh, Breena! There you are girl. I was afraid I’d have to look all over for you. What have you been up to? Oh, never mind. This is my apprentice, Breena. She’s a bit young but I think she’s got promise. Breena, this is Gamin and Jenova. Alright Breena, test. Name their tribes.” Kretia challenged her young charge.

“Well, she is a Sister of the Air, right? Uh, Sairys, right?” she said nodding to Gamin.

“Very good, and Jenova?”

“Um,” Breena looked really hard at Jenova and rubbed her chin. “Earth?” she asked meekly.

“Wrong, give up? She’s a sister of Tad Ekam.”

Breena stopped in her tracks. “A Chaos Sister?” she asked in disbelief. “Wow!”

“Oh, stop gawking, Breena. And hurry up.”

Jenova smiled back at Breena reassuringly.

“So, Jenova. What brings you out so far away from your tribe? It isn’t often that we see one of your sisterhood in any of the big cities,” Kretia asked.

“Have you heard of the Chaos Stone?”

The two older nodded.

“There has been another sighting. My elders sent me to seek out this lead.”

“Um, Jenova, what’s the Chaos Stone?” Breena asked.

“The Stone belongs to the clans of Tad Ekam. It was stolen centuries ago and lost among the seas. No one has heard or seen it since then but rumors have always surrounded its location. A month ago a message was sent to my tribe elders that a man had found its whereabouts and since it is imperative that the stone be recovered, all rumors and myths are to be checked out no matter where they lead us. I am to meet this, man, across the sea in a city called Lagash. He is supposed to tell me what he knows and if necessary take me to the Stone.”

“You don’t like men too much, do you?” Gamin questioned.

“I don’t know many men, so to say I don’t like them would not be accurate. I have so far not found much use for them. There are very few men in my tribe and those with any ability are very weak. Although men are usually very good at creating chaos, they have little ability in controlling the amount of chaos they create and accepting the responsibility for it.

To be continued...