Dawn of the Shindochai

Written by KS Black

Prologue

Ten thousand years ago, when the World of Finq' Shret was young, Mortals (for even elves have a natural lifespan) and Dragons were strong allies in the war against the Dark Empire. The strongest example were the Shindochai, the mortal/dragon pairs that-time after time-became the fiercest fighters and wisest leaders. The Shindochai brought Finq' Shret victory against the invading techno-kingdom that was the Dark Empire.

And as each year after the battle grew into the next, peace settled over the races of Finq' Shret, and one by one the once revered Shindochai came to believe that they were no longer necessary. And as the years grew into centuries, and centuries into millennium, the bond and alliance between Mortals and their guardian Dragons dwindled.

But peace, as all things do, cycles, and once more the world of Finq' Shret is threatened-by a darkness that now grows within its heart.

The Shindochai are needed once more, and Dragons yet again choose their Mortal allies....

---

“Fathers who art in Belnai, protect and  watch over this child the world has sent to thee. Give him peace so that he may rest....”

The words of the funerary priests still rang in Marlien Mornrush's head. They had been a month ago, when her world had turned upside down. Her husband, her partner had died, leaving her a widow at seventeen. She had no one, then. Her family was long gone, and he didn't have much of one. All she had left was the ranch, and the two aging ranch hands who'd decided to work for the chance to live off the land and sleep in the stable with their horses.

She didn't stay to watch the priests put fire to her dead husband, or to accept condolences from those who didn't even know her.

---

She wasn't expecting the company of War'ven going about their business in front of her house when she got back, but she shrugged and moved through them without a thought. Keelai was watching the scene from the broad expanse of porch, her eyes shadowed. “Ma'am, they want to make a deal with you.”

“Our herd is little fit for meat, I'm sorry.” She turned to address the Alpha flatly, a hand going to her stomach where life kicked gently. “I can only offer you a place to stay for the nights ahead.” To her surprise the Alpha balanced on his haunches to gently brace a forepaw on her hip.

“We came not for meat, but for hides.” He motioned to where the herd of cows, lean and rugged for the Aramath hill country, lay among the scrub grass and the spiky succulents that grew wild. “My Pack and I were just passing through and noticed them.”

“Likely for a potential food source,” Keelai muttered, spitting.

“Keelai,” Marlien responded, shifting to crouch so the Alpha wouldn't have to crane his neck to look up at her. “Ignore her-”

“She's right in a way. We'll use what meat you can spare, and the bones too. But not without paying.”

She studied the earnest eyes above a dusty muzzle. “How many hides do you need?”

“Twenty. We'll negotiate on the meat, and on the bones.”

“And what do you have to offer for the hides?” She'd bargained enough in her life to settle into it's comfortable formality, and noticed that he relaxed as she did.

“You have offered us a place to stay for a time, as well as the chance to obtain hides we might like. In return I offer my pack and I. We will work to bring the herd in-” He paused momentarily to give a little nod to Keelai- “As well as skin and harvest the meat.”

Marlien sat back, then offered her hand. “You have free range of my lands, Alpha, and whatever tools you may need.” She gave a tired smile when he placed a road-toughened paw in her palm to show acceptance. “And truthfully, I am grateful.”

“The gods often have strange ways for providing, child,” this new voice was as rough as the Alpha's palm. “You are a widow at seventeen and a mother. We do not question the guidance that brought us to your town.” An elder War'ven trotted forward, age and dignity in her steps.

“My grandmother Storm.”

“My grandson Rain.” She nipped at him playfully, stepping up beside him. “I am a story teller, with a bargain of my own. My days for traveling are past, and I am seeking comfort in my old age. Just a soft, simple bed in front of a warm fire on the cold nights. In return I can offer my stories, my knowledge of herbcraft, and my help with the child.”

“I'd offer to kiss you,” Keelai said as the second deal was made. “But you've got a furry nose.”

And just as soon as Marlien thought her life would be a bitter struggle, she learned it would be far from it.

In the days to come Storm taught her much-that grief was a process and while she never would forget, she could heal from that wound, how to preserve the meat that slowly started to come in. Marlien and her human ranch hands-Keelai and her brother Shaoki-would often join Rain's pack at the end of day fire, exchanging stories of long ago. Marlien and Rain shared the idea that the Shindochai never really existed, that they were an explanation of Zurach'belnaifinqua-the dead, crater filled zone where leaders threatening war against each other were sent to see if it was worth it. Storm just shrugged it off with the trademark War'ven grin. Her life settled into a routine for those days.

That routine was thrown into momentary chaos when the dragoness Maerilaina chose to make the stables her nest.

Marlien stood in awe at the sight of the snow white wings edged with pink as they gave a last down stroke, at the silver claws curled around an object, and was absolutely mesmerized by the vibrant violet eyes. And at once she realized what the object was. “She has an egg.”  She stepped closer, a hand out in offering to the large head. And when Maerilaina nuzzled against it, Marlien felt warmth and comfort flood her, caress her. And at once knew why-without quite understanding-that the dragon mother was there because of her. Because of her daughter.

“Marlien,” Storm pressed her nose against the woman's thigh, just slightly alarmed when she looked down with a wondering smile. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine. She's been watching me, waiting for her egg to harden. It'll hatch the same day I'm due to give birth....”