Fandom One Shots

Prologue

[A/N here's the teaser to the book I'm writing, for everyone who was interested]

It had all started when she was seven. A ridiculous age to send a child to the marketplace on her own, but Tiriara's father had always had so much faith in her, and he had finally worn her mother down.

She was clutching the sheet of paper that had her mother's shopping list scribbled on it, and weaving through the crowd carefully. She was several feet shorter than everyone else, so she moved easily in the throng. That did make it much harder for her to see the wares of the vendors, but it suited her just fine to move a little more slowly.

Being so short, she nearly didn't see the band of men striding purposefully down the wide boulevard until one of them nearly tripped over her.

"Jiq it all-" the man began, but another grabbed his arm quickly and shushed him.

"That's a child, Rish. Mind your tongue."

The blond man with a thick but short beard knelt in front of her, extending a leather-clad hand to help her to her tiny feet. "Are you alright, Spud?"

Tiriara nodded quickly, eyes wide.

"That's good. I think you dropped this."

He held up the small coin purse her father had put on a long cord around her neck. The cord hung off in both directions, snapped in half. In front of Tiriara's ever more awed gaze, the bearded man tied a knot in it, tugging it to assure himself of its firmness before offering it to her with a friendly smile.

"Th-thank you, Elder." Tiriara babbled. "Mam would'a had my neck if I didn't fetch her what she needs for the week."

The man chuckled. "Well I suppose I cannot keep you then, Spud, for we wouldn't want that." He stood straight and motioned for the men behind him to follow as he began to walk off.

Tiriara found herself calling after him, "are you a pirate?"

The boulevard was suddenly quiet and she covered her mouth quickly. She'd said the word. No one was supposed to say the word, as if the mere mention of it would cause them to manifest in every port and corner of the town. For all she knew, it could.

The man chuckled and turned to her, sweeping his hat off. "Hardly." He bowed to her formally. "Captain Chrian Lancaster of Foxhound at your service, Spud."

"We're the good guys," the man who had nearly run into her commented. His companions seemed to find this amusing, for a round of chuckles rumbled from the group.

"Oh hush, Rish," Chrian Lancaster chided as he stood, batting the man lightly with his hat before returning it to his head again. "We're sky-fliers, plain and simple. Now run along, Spud, we certainly wouldn't want Matron to be cross with such a sweet child as yourself."

He turned and strode off again, but Tiriara didn't move. She watched him walk away, watched until he had disappeared from view along with the men following him.

Sky-fliers.

The word was altogether invigorating and horrible, exciting and terrifying. They were the people who went up into that bright expanse above her. Men who flew around in the seemingly tiny ships she could spot on clear days.

Tiriara wanted to be just like them.

~

"Mam?"

"In the kitchen, dear."

Farryn Cardove-Holt was Tiriara's idol. She was gorgeous, with smooth dark skin and raven hair that stretched down her back to her thighs, even in its simple braid. Her brightly colored clothing was covered mostly by a white apron as she kneaded dough for another batch of shurusbi buns. They were the best selling in the bakery, and she prided herself in making every one that went out the door.