Before the Romans conquered Samaria, there was a great kingdom that ruled over the lands and lineage within the beautiful countryside. The kingdom was divided into four tribes. Although these tribes were fairly close together, each tribe and their people were different, but found a common ground in two things.
Horses and warriors
The Samaritan people considered horses to be the most treasured of all animals. They believed that when a warrior dies, they were to be reborn as a horse. In a warrior's lifetime, the greater he was in war, the greater the warhorse he becomes.
The Roxolani tribe was located on the top of the tallest cliff as the ocean waves crashed against the rocks below. The cliff's jagged rocks gave protection from invasion. As for the height of the cliff that looked over the sea, also gave them an advantage to alert an attack from the rolling green hills. The Roxolani people had sun-kissed skin and their hair color was in various shades of blonde.
The Aorsi were the healers, the most gentle of all tribes. Their tribe was located in the heart of the rolling green hills. The Aorsi people are soft spoken, and exuded an aura of calmness. Most of the Aorsi people were tall with dark features. Their hair color was as black as coal and had eyes the deepest shade of brown.
While the Aorsi people were serene, the Siraces were raucous.
There was never a day without celebration in their tribe, and often times their celebrations lasted for weeks. They would wine and dine until there was no more ale to fill their bellies or women to warm the men's laps. The Siraces people were all beautiful in their own way, and most of the men were considered as smooth talking Casanovas. It wasn't uncommon for them to sleep with the other tribes' women. Sometimes that would lead to disputes among the people.
Though all the Samaritan tribes were fierce warriors, none was as fierce and dangerous as the Izayges.
The Izayges were Samaria's most powerful warriors. They were meant to fight since birth and to an Izayges nothing was more valuable than their swords. Most of the people of this tribe were taught at an early age, the skill of fighting. The Izayges people are cunning and they did not act, rashly. They are very exclusive compared to the other tribes. Their appearance was more barbaric with long dark hair, and tattoos representing the number of kills they have achieved.
Izayges were not to be crossed, for they have never lost a battle. As ruthless as they are in war, they can also censure a tribe for a long period of time. A deep hatred for the Roxolani tribe was formed long ago and was not to be forgotten.
It has been told, that the long fueled grudge was the result of a marriage proposal gone wrong. The chief of the Izayges tribe was to marry his son, Chienef to Lyrical who was the youngest daughter of the Roxolani chief.
On the night they were meant to wed however, Chienef caught his bride to be with another man. Furious over the betrayal, Chienef cut down his wife and the man. He then accused the Roxolani people of being dishonorable.
And since then, a vicious battle took place between the two tribes, never again to attempt forming another allegiance through marriage.
Until now
~~~~~~~~
"Leawyn!"
"Leawyn, where are you?"
"Leawyn!"
The eighteen year old girl in question sighed softly, closing the book on her lap and turning her cerulean eyes towards the voice that called her name.
She pushed a strand of her long golden hair away from her face and stood up. Starting to make her way down to Breawyn, her handmaiden, who was getting frantic with the search for her.
Leawyn was womanly in structure, from her curvy figure, to her soft plump pink lips, and her perky breasts. She had long, golden hair that was the lightest shade of blond that shined with gold specks in the sunlight, that fell along her backside in soft waves as it curled at her slim waist.
Brees shouted her name again, her voice irked and laced with frustration.
"Yes, Brees, I am here!" Leawyn called out, her voice was soft and melodic as she stepped out of the tree she rested against.
Leawyn giggled silently as Brees jumped, whirling around to face her. Brees gave her a disapproving frown, her lips pressed down in a tight line.
"Where have you been? I have been looking everywhere for you!" Brees said sharply, grabbing Leawyn by the wrist angrily. Leawyn stayed silent, knowing that provoking Brees wouldn't do her any good as she all but dragged Leawyn up the hill back towards their tribe.
Brees has been her handmaiden as long as Leawyn could remember. She was more of a mother to her,than her handmaiden since Leawyn's own mother died whilst giving birth to her.
Her father, though a loving man, has a hard time being around Leawyn, because of how much she reminded him of Leslan, his beloved wife.
"What is the hurry, Brees?" Leawyn asked, amused by Brees pace. She practically had to jog to keep pace with her fussy handmaiden.
Brees huffed, looking over her shoulder at Leawyn. "Have you forgotton?" Brees asked in her strange accent. Brees wasn't born in the Roxolani like Leawyn, and instead came to their humble village when Brees was a young girl, traveling with a band of sea merchants. It was here, in the Rhoxolani tribe that she met and fell in love with a young Rhoxolani warrior, who she married but a year later.
Gwain was unfortunately slain during one of the many battles between the Izayges and Rhoxolani as they fought for land.
Leawyn knitted her brows together as she tried to remember whatever Brees was talking about that she seem to of forgot.
She couldn't think of anything particularly special about today. She woke up and did her chores just like any other day, before she went out to the cliffs to read. Was she suppose to do something else?
Leawyn smiled guiltily at Brees when she looked over her shoulder at Leawyn at her silence. When she saw the incredulous look on Leawyn's face, Brees just rolled her eyes heavenward in exasperation.~
"For goddess sakes, Leawyn! You were told earlier today!"
Brees let go of her wrist just long enough to push open the flap to Leawyn's hut and ushering her in. She pushed her down on her bed pallets and started to look for a suitable dress for her lady to wear for tonight's gathering.
Leawyn watched Brees, raising her eyebrow in the question as Brees shoved a soft pale blue dress in her hands.
"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" Leawyn asked. When Brees gave her an annoyed glare. She didn't argue and instead put on the garment.
"Leawyn, you do know what tonight is...don't you?" Brees questioned mildly from behind her, as she quickly but gently ran a bristled brush through Leawyn's long hair.
Leawyn looked down, playing with a loose string of her dress. "I'm sorry Brees, I truly have no idea what you're talking about." She said softly.
She turned to look over her shoulder when Brees suddenly stopped brushing her hair. Leawyn grew slightly worried by the way Breawyn was looking at her, like she was about to tell her a terrible secret.
"No one told you?" Brees breathed, and Leawyn's worry grew.
"Tell me what?"
"Oh Leawyn, you are so young," Breawyn said tenderly, running the back of her hand down Leawyn's smooth cheek.
"Leawyn, your father received word this morning. The Izayges Chief grew tired of waiting and sent word that he would be arriving early," Brees paused again, hesitant and Leawyn felt herself growing faint and the implications of what Brees was saying, shaking her head.
"No," Leawyn whispered, her eyes filling with panicked tears. "I'm suppose to have until the winter. We're not suppose to meet until the leaves fall!"
"Leawyn, he's arriving tonight," Brees informed her gently, her heart breaking at the pain and dread that flashed across Leawyn's face, "tonight is when you meet your betrothed, the man who you will marry."
Leawyn's world froze and icy dread gripped her heart. Tonight her world would change forever. Tonight, she would meet Xavier, the chief of the Izayges.
The man who was the most dangerous and fiercest warrior in Samaritan history.
Her betrothed.