Chapter 1: Ashes Cover Everything

'Stupid Nocturnes.' Aromir thought. They felt comfortable in burning down a whole village until they realized that thatched roofing produces ashes. Winds from the sea take those ashes and lay them on the Forrest to the west, were a band of newly homeless villagers waits. Ashes cover everything; make everything the same color, until it rains ... and the rainy season had just passed. It was the perfect camouflage for an ambush, which was exactly what this lopsided fight needed. It was a sour reprieve, as the village men would look down at their hands and see the only thing left of their home covering them. Their wives dowry, their children's toys, the wood door they spent an entire season carving, the tools they had gathered for countless generations; it all covered them. Aromir didn't see that when he looked at his hands, he saw his parents.

They didn't have much. Aromir's father was a blade instructor at the academy until he broke both of his arms in a riding accident. He moved to D'mont when he healed. There he married the mayor's daughter Analee, and started testing various weapons for the smith's that forged there. It was a meager existence but they were happy. Aromir grew up as a well mannered boy, his father taught him history and how to read and write, hopping he would be a scholar at the academy. When he was denied admission, his father didn't raise a fuss. He merely signed Aromir on as an apprentice to the village's top smith. He was supposed to start two days ago, but that was when they came.

The Nocturnes. The Hand of the Council. Only the finest warriors to come from the academy were considered for the privilege to bare the black uniform with gold buttons and white cords, trademark of the Nocturnes. They came demanding the immediate surrender and arrest of the entire village. A village of smiths goes quietly? The fighting started that night, slow and bloody. The weapon workers knew how to fight with a blade and the rest of the men used the tools of their trade to cut, bash, tear and slaughter their way through the nocturnes. Aromir had wielded one of his father's practice blades, a long handled short sword. He had sparred with his father before, but he had never experienced anything like the confusion of battle. When the blood of the first man he killed slapped him in the face, warm and viscous, Aromir knew that not only was he defending his home, but his life. The fighting lasted until dawn. At first light, the body count was half the village, including Aromir's father, he dreaded telling his mother that they would be alone, that she would never see her husband again. "This was to be expected" the other men assured themselves, quietly grieving the loss of their friends and comrades.

When they made their way back to the village, they were stopped cold by a grotesque view of their homes. During the night a group of Nocturnes came to the houses and killed the women children in their sleep by burning their houses. They found the remains of their homes and families, almost everything consumed by the flames. Broken, they fled into the Forrest and slept in cover. When they awoke they found themselves covered in ashes, only to realize that it was their homes covering them. The Mayor devised a plan to use the cover to ambush the remaining Nocturnes and avenge the village. Every man agreed.

Aromir was perched in the branches of a tree watching for the enemy's advance, any sign of movement. For hours he sat and watched, and for hours nothing happened. When the sun hit its zenith Aromir leapt down from his perch, hitting the ground with a soft thud. He knew his replacement had been out in the tree line somewhere for the last hour and as to the plan they both watched for the soldiers. Aromir did as he was told by the mayor and headed west before cutting back south to the camp. It was two hour hike if you didn't dawdle; more than enough time for Aromir to miss his parents. Aromir's first thoughts were of his mother: the kindest lady you would ever meet. When Aromir found out he was rejected from the Academy, his mother took the money she had been saving for their new bedding and bought him an arm brace with the stars engraved on it. Aromir never knew that she did it, but that was the kind of lady she was. And his father, Kandir, always had something to teach Aromir about life. All of this came to Aromir and he found himself weeping at the base of an old oak. He didn't know how long he was there, just that he was cold and his face was wet. 'I'll never feel my mother's embrace again, or hear my father's instruction.' 'Even if we do kill all the soldiers, where will we go? I don't have any money, or skills, and I'm probably a fugitive from the entire nation.' Aromir thought. 'There's nothing left for me here, maybe I can go with Brigun to his family in Sadoc Min, or become a sailor in Samiel.' A deep sense of hopelessness washed over Aromir, sapping his will to live. He cried more and more, until his eyes were glued together with tears and his voice would no longer make sound. Exhausted from the last two days events, Aromir passed out on the oak and was covered in ashes.