For Honor: Chapter One

Anja pulled her sword out of the defeated man’s chest. With slow ease she cleaned it lovingly. Soraya was the saber’s name. Through the entire battle, her edge had served Anja dutifully, the least the young warrior could do was cleanse the foreign blood off of her devoted friend before it began to cake. The soft swipe of Soraya against unsoiled ground rang clear through out the deserted battlefield. 1

The stench of the dead had yet to cloud the air, for it was early morning and the slaughter of hundreds had taken place in mere hours. From sun down the day before, to now. Her enemy had lost, and Anja could not be happier. In fact, it took a great amount of effort to settle the corners of her mouth. 2

‘Should I not rejoice at the downfall of the traitors? The very tyrants mine own people descended from? Should I not take gay in their final demise? Never again will the House of Rex rule over the lands of Regina!’ 3

But Anja knew better. She had been trained to ignore the joy that bubbled in her gut. She was not worthy of the victory she accomplished today. Several officers better than she fell to her enemy’s blade, thirty-eight to be exact. After walking half a league, she finally reached the end of the battlefield. Anja knelt and rested her scalp against the hilt of her sword. Pax Tibi . Peace be with you. The young warrior stood and continued her trek back home. What a surprise her people had coming.4

Since as long as Anja could remember, she had wanted to be a fighter. She could trace her ancestry back to the olden days when warriors served under Aristae. Faithfully her forefathers fought to preserve the ancient lines. And now for the past hundreds years since the beginning of the Republic, her family has led military bouts and kept peace through out the land. All Khan children were taught one vital thing. Above all trust in your heart, honor your family, and never be afraid to die for what you know is right. More often then not, the latter was most likely upheld. Because of this pledge, most Khan descendants thrusts themselves into battle, some earn a worthy title; some earn a worthy death. 5

Anja relished at the realization of the pomp that was sure to arise in her honor. Honor. To my family, my Saint, and to me. She was the lone surviving foot solider of the cavalry. It had been a suicide mission. No one expected to come out alive. Their country had been under attack by a nation who dabbled richly in sorcery. Her country did not train many in the realms of magic. And even then the citizens in Mage Order were far too valuable to waste in a battle. It had been unanimously decided that the oldest capable veterans and criminals seeking redemption or anyone wishing to find glory, would fight in honor of his people. The operative word being his. Anja’s family hadn’t known about her decision. Well, they do now. Anja had conveniently made sure that her family wouldn’t see the note until all possibility of them stopping her was unfeasible. She didn’t want to be controlled, she wanted to make a choice in her own life that for once…Anja stopped walking a considered what she had wanted to achieve. 6

Independence? Honor? To make her own choice? Anja chided herself silently. She made her own choices every day. She had chosen to practice weaponry like a slave for the past three years. She alone had worked her limbs to the bone to toughen up her nerves. She had bent herself into painful positions in order to build flexibility, running for miles without rest for stamina and endurance. All led up to this battle to prove that she belong to her clan. To prove that she was worthy of her name. But now the thought of facing her family and owning up to what she had done under their roof against their will for so long? 7

Anja wondered what her father would think of her. She could already see his blind eyes frowning slightly in disappointment. She had, once again, failed to be a proper daughter. Anja looked up ahead at the camp then up to the sky. The came was a good ten leagues away, though visible over the flat terrain. The sun would set in a few hours. By that time Anja would be four-fifths of the way back to her tent. Then she could sleep and dream of an answer to her latest transgression.8

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The sun was low in Chi-lank. All families, whether rich or poor, had settled down after the days last meal. Children no long roomed through the south districts streets, and servants on the west retired for the day. All was quiet as people mentally prepared for the day to come. Tomorrow would go down as a national holiday. It would be a day of remembrance. A day that children from now on would grow up learning and admire. For the magistrate had decreed that anyone brave enough and willing to give up his life, might fight for his country, in order to rid their borders of invading cultures. 11

Men from all walks and stumbles of life flocked to the market place the week before. Enlisting, pledging their souls to the demises of the enemy. Against an enemy so foreign and great, a pardon and honor was given to all who joined. The list was engraved in gold and hung on all three lower sides of the Great Obelisk. The next day the town would honor the thirty-eight names and those of learned and ignorant backgrounds printed marks on the tablets. 12

Families mourned third-born or more sons whom had gone. Families of murderers had walked the streets with their heads held high again as honor had been restored to their names. Bastards and wenches stepped out into the light, proclaiming their blighted, now herald, parentage. All was well and righted. If the Gods were merciful, they would have time to prepare a more tactful defense and offense, rather than sacrifice lives of citizens. The life of ones own was too valuable to be spilled more than once because of careless folly. 13

And as lower and middle classes prayed for souls happiness at the lares and penates, the wealthy calmly drank an evening wine barely affected by the day’s happenings. Yes they were thankful. But they had not lost many of their rank, certainly not enough to make a difference. Fifth sons left and did good by the family. More inheritance, it was only right that the last few males to be born give their lives not only for the good of the country, but their family. And their souls would have eternal glory. All in the world, their world, was right. Except for one missing child of Sun Khan.14

Suniata Khan had looked all over for her daughter. She sent every maid to every room in the house that was open for inspection. Then she sent every steward to houses that her daughter might roam. Then she sent then kitchen wenches to local taverns. And ever slave she had to extra places on the skirts of proper society. With the slaves she sent a trusted maid, no indentured tom was getting alone with her daughter, missing or not. The woman had spent her day fretting in the dais. She needed her daughter for important reasons. This recent disappearance had caused a ripple in the perfect household, and the Suniata was less than pleased.15

“Where could that girl be? Why haven’t you found her yet?” The mistress of the house scolded her servants. All of them were silent, none had an answer. The girl wasn’t occupying any of her usual hideouts. Odessa, head of the household staff and Anja’s nursemaid, bravely stepped forward. “If I may, milady, state the obvious. It would seem that little Anja has discovered a new place of recreation. And she once again wishes to remain unfound.” The woman held her head high as her mistress clicked up to her. 16

“And where pray tell do you think my daughter might be?”17

“If I knew that milady, she would be here already.” The noblewoman lowered her eyebrows and tapped her foot. 18

“Then if you don’t have any real information, then don’t speak.”19

“Yes, ma’am. But what could call out to the girl that none of us would have a sense of?”20

“That is your job to find out. Though there is no one outside of this house who knows her more, I wonder what drives her?”21

“Possibly something from the inside?”22

“Inside of where?” The Suniata’s tone quivered trying to regain its evenness.23

Odessa chose her words as she tread the ground softly. “Perhaps she spends so much time away from home…too escape something here.” The mistress’s frown deepened. Odessa corrected herself, “I mean to say that, the patron just died. She could be nursing a wound and is inside one of the Temple rooms.” Everyone else held their breath waiting for the ball to drop. The Suniata settled. “But she is too young to visit the temple one her own.”24

The nursemaid chuckled softly, “Have laws or limits ever held Anja back before? No, I will fetch her personally and bring her straight to you?” The mistress nodded. “Make sure she is presentable though.” 25

The mistress stalked off to do whatever noblewomen do to make themselves feel important. After the woman’s heels could no longer be heard, Odessa addressed her company. “I understand you’re tired. Hell, we’ve all had a trying evening. But we have our orders. That girl is to be protected at and above all cost. Find her I don’t care if you have to question every single citizen in this ordinance. Find her.” The company walked together out of the Kahn yard and dispersed themselves through the crowd. It would be a long night.26

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Anja pressed herself against adobe structures that lined the fifth district. Broken cart filled with wary travelers passed by her ignorant that if their goods tipped she would be crushed. Little children ran about in a group trying to stay in the group but still didn’t want to be the last person in the group. Trios of older women edged along. As a single couple of ageing women passed under an awning, they cast furtive glances in Anja’s direction. Anja took one quick sweep of her attire. She had long shed the bloodied military garb. But her tresses from home wouldn’t exactly fit in her current surroundings. In fact, any tip that suggested she had money would most likely get her killed, or worse.28

So Anja had pack an extra garb for the by chance she survived. The week before she had brought dark blue trousers and vest. Her combat seiks blend fine with her outfit. Along with her fit, which had been made for a lean male, she wore a homemade brassier. It clutched her goods tightly and kept them in check while she was sparring. Plus a small turban that concealed her ebony locks; Anja could, and did, pass for a run of the mill street kid up to no good. She glared at the hags and step out of her shadow slightly. The elder women rushed off in fear of her. Anja smiled. That was one of the things she loved about the Fifth District, threats were always taken seriously, and imagination was your best friend. Sometimes. 29

With one final glance about her surroundings, Anja leaped across the narrow to the next shielding structure. But not just any structure. No, mistakenly Anja stumbled into the local brothel and pub. The minute she stepped in she regretted it. As she turned to leave, a crowd of middle-aged men stormed in behind her, block the pathway out. Anja nervously turned and walked to the least populated area of the pub and sat. IN her corner compared to the rest of seating area, she was in complete darkness. Just what she wanted. It would do no good, if she were recognized on a later date, or better yet if someone pegged her for an outsider just now. 30

Anja slumped deep into her chair. Her eyes focused onto the empty stage. Just chill wait a moment. Get a drink then leave. She lit her candle, hoping her knowledge of brothels was up to date. On cue a curvaceous red headed woman in nothing but her underwear approached the young warriors table. Anja’s eyes involuntarily went straight to the woman’s breasts. All her life her mother had warned that an ample bosom could age you beyond your years. Apparently what the Kahn women considered ample was nothing compared to what the lower districts could dish out.31

Anja crossed her arms and tried to hide her embarrassment. Probably just a potion or spell…who could walk around with that all day? The waitress stood expectant and chewed on her pinky lightly. Anja looked up quickly then dropped her eyes. Definitely, just a serving girl. “Can I have a light buzz?” The sly woman smiled and leaned over the table. “That depends on the kind you want solid, liquid, or wet?” Anja’s face reddened. She didn’t know the equivalent terms, and maybe she didn’t want to. “Just a cup of ale, please.” The woman leaned up slightly disappointed, then after a second glance at Anja, suspected it was for the best. 32

Anja turn out her light and leaned her head against the sticky tabletop. It was swimming from the seductive fumes and atmosphere, not that the nip would improve things. Her mother didn’t allow her to drink outside of parties and celebrations. Anja moaned into the residue and banged her head once. The thought of her mother worsened her condition. She is going to be pissed. Who knows how much shit she’ll force me to do? Anja rested her scalp on her fists and wondered what the chances of returning home unmissed home were. But she soon wiped that thought away, for two reasons. One, Sari Kahn was not the type of woman to over look things. Even someone as random as her youngest child. Second, the sultry ladies had just stepped on stage. Anja’s olive skin blushed deeper. T33

he women’s glowing legs and painted faces, all feather and no clothes. She cleared her throat several times and tried to act like she belonged. Do men really want that? Is that what real women strive for? She widened her eyes as she saw a women do an impossible move. A position she often got stuck in when she was sparing. She could have been an awesome fighter, but here she is demeaning herself for an easy dero. Anja watched as one of the dancers was slipped a tip into her cleavage. …Or an easy auro. I could never. But then again, the young warrior didn’t know what the women had going on. Maybe revealing themselves to various men regularly was the only way they could pay taxes, feed their families, live even. An outer district lubber like herself would mostly likely spend her life always wondering how one ended up in a deck like that. 34

Anja scanned the room for her waitress. A round set of hips was leaning over the bar. Anja stood and went to a dress her. “Un, have you finished my buzzie yet?” The person turned around to reveal a different waitress blonde and small chested. Anja backed away apologizing. Frantically she searched for her waitress, but all was in vain. “I s-s-should go. I-I-I’m so-o-o sorry.” Anja spun on her heel, pushing past a group of tough looking patrons. 35

“What yer steps, punk!” 36

“Oh, watch yer own, pinx!” Anja rushed out the doors after dropping her insult. She wanted to put as much distance in between her and the pub as possible. Anja slowed to a stop and fell against a dark alley wall. She caught her breath slowly still unable to fathom the images she had witnessed. The sweaty bodies and intoxicated stares branded themselves to her vision. Anja sapped her temples periodically trying to rid her soul of it. It was disgusting, but she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Is that how her mother performed behind closed doors for her father. Anja keeled over when bile bubbled up to her throat. Not something that you should think about. Just ignore that thought. Think of spears. Long,, thick, wooden spears. Hard…Arghh! Anja slammed her head against the alley wall and bent over in pain, both from her next thought and the assault she had dealt to herself. But it had worked. The provocative scenes that had crept into her mind were wiped away; along with any trace of the pub. Sure wish I had gotten that ale though.37

Anja rubbed her head gingerly. She pulled of her turban and let her hair fall against her shoulders. The cool breeze disturbed a few free strand. Anja shivered and looked around absently. It’s a bit early for that type of wind. So dense and urgent. Anja sighed and settled herself on the ground. She toyed with the idea of remaining inside the fifth circle for a night. But several pairs of steps headed in her direction interrupted her thoughts. Anja swiftly swept her hair up and began to tie the turban around her head. Normally she would have immediately taken off, but her disguise was too important. To her, to was better to be caught in her guise, then found and recognized. Unfortunately for Anja, she was recognized. Four tall figures hesitated around the mouth of the alley as they took Anja’s sitting figure in. 38

“It’s him!” “Let’s get ‘em!” 39

Anja cursed as she took one quick glance around; besides them the alley was empty. She jumped out of her seat and sprinted forward. A trebled voice followed after her. Just as Anja was going to round a corner, her ankles snapped together. Anja tipped to the ground gracefully and hit hard. She grunted and clawed the ground below her. After gaining a foot, Anja began to feel a tug about her toes. 40

“Garr! I will not be jumped! I will not be taken captive!” She dug into the dirt struggling with the force in the opposite direction. But she only managed to dig out a slope underneath her and a few extra measly feet. Anja turned to see that more were “pulling” at her mentally. She cursed. Damn their using magi against me! Anja was no fan of magic tricks. Personally she felt above mind games in the end no real skill was involved to her. Besides not only could she do more immediate damage, but the end result was more satisfying. But desperate times called for desperate measure. Anja tried to recall watch her instructor had told her. Dig deep. Breathe. Dig, deep. ‘Let me go’. Anja’s ankles broke loose of their bondage. The energy involved propelled Anja several meters ahead, into a wall