Makiya

Introduction

Dear reader! Before you start reading, I would like to thank you for your time and investment in my book! You are great!

Quick instructions about reading this book.

All text written like this (in italic) is the current character's thoughts. They are not spoken out loud but are in the character's mind.

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Some chapters contain illustrations drawn by me or someone else who has willingly contributed to the book. The name of the author would be found right underneath the picture.

These images display content from the chapter it was inspired by.

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One more thing! Please, do not forget to leave reviews of the book, as it means really much to me and inspires me to write even more! I am very thankful for this and makes me love you even more so! <3

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In the wild deserts of Wartair, it was often that the armies of Batua Lurrak would fight the sand storms.

In this wasteland, you could rarely find any water and food, so if you haven’t come prepared you will definitely be feeling and seeing the hot sand and the Blue Star for the last time in your life.

The strong fiery winds, which carried the sand, were just a part of the challenges the desert would give you. And she challenged any who went by.

While the storms raged, the survivors of the not long ago fighting army were crossing the fearsome desert, returning with the duty to report to their war-chief.

Broken gray armors sparkled under the heat. It was obvious they used to be shiny and beautiful, but the hits which they took while fighting for their lives and honor had destroyed the concept of knights in shiny armors.

Their ravaged red capes had the crest of the kingdom of Batua Lurrak. Nyadzel, a tall bulky man whom's face was mostly covered by the worn helm, noticed something unusual silhouetting in the sand. In a deep voice, he called out to the soldiers in the line, saying, "There's something here!"

In a quick reply, a voice was heard from the army line, “It’s probably the remains of some deserter."

Then another voice tried to mock Nyadzel, “or just the desert is toying with your senses."

Nyadzel's senses and experience wouldn't be deceptive of him. He had crossed not once this place and not once fought the illusions cast as dark spells upon the trespassers. 

Batua Lurrak’s army always traveled in a straight line-formation through the deserts.

The strong and confident Nyadzel broke the line headed to unveil his suspicions. The closer he got, the clearer his vision, as the little specks of sand were in the air, and the more this thing he saw revealed itself to him as what seemed to be a human body.

He could see the clothes of the person–black but never seen before anywhere in no matter what lands. There were no armors, swords, hammers, or whatever weapons seen around this black-dressed body.

After leaning down to see if the person is alive he could now see the person’s face–pale skin slightly, damaged from the sands caried by the wind, short black hair and a few longer locks waving about before the eyes.

"A young one. And an odd one," said Nyadzel, kneeling down.