Some people are fated to live amongst great men - this we learn from the lity, the Harkan folk tales and legends that are passed on from generation to generation. They are overshadowed by them, and are thus damned to mediocrity... unless they decide to best them all, to become even greater then all those that surround them taken together. Those few brave individuals who go against fate and authority alike most often end up dead, thwarted, crushed by the gods - for gods don't like it when those whom they favour are usurped by some pathetic mortals they didn't bother noticing.
But sometimes, not even gods can stop a brave man...
---
"Bharka! Bharis, Bharka!" - cried the boy's mother - "Stop doing that!"
Bharis, the young fair-haired boy, laughed andran towards the potter Marhus shouting.
Marhus laughed, and stood up, leaving the new pot on the ground.
"Nilda, have no worry, he would do no harm." - he said.
"What are you doing, Marhus?" - asked the boy. He still was very young, but spoke well already.
"A pot, for the wine..."
"Can I have some wine?"
"No, you cannot." - said Nilda, seriously. Marhus nodded.
"Not yet." - he said.
Meanwhile, the boy leaned towards the pot, studying it. Finally, with a serious (and therefore amusing) look on his face, he declared that it was "boring".
Marhus shook his head with a smile.
"We can make it more interesting..." - he said - "I can draw something on it, like a dog's face."
"Just like Master Terhus?" - asked Bharis.
"Yes... Say, you know a lot of the lity."
"My father told me. He was a warrior, but he liked pottery."
"Hmm... Do you like pottery?" - asked Marhus, whilst putting the final touches, under Nilda's disapproving gaze.
"I do, when its more interesting. With faces."
"Faces?"
"Dog faces."
"Ah." - Marhus stood up, towering above Bharis - "Do you want to be a potter?"
Nilda raised her hands in protest, but before she could say anything Bharis stood up as well and said proudly that he wants to be a great warrior. Just like Swordlord Nirus.
Later that day, Marhus showed the pot to one of his friends. The dog's face remained there, but the friend liked it - he found it funny, though he would probably have to get a new pot if he still wanted to give it to the vodad. Marhus, quite drunk, shook his head.
"Its a gift! If he doesn't like it, he's a fool - no matter how many heads he smashed. It is a masterpiece!"
His friend, more sober, shook his head. Marhus could get in trouble... but vodad - warlord - Vahris was famous for his good sense of humor. Unlike Marhus, when he's drunk.
On the next day, in the celebrations of vodad Vahris' victory over the Tehra selad, Marhus presented the pot, not quite as confident about the dog now... but it could pass for a joke, surely. But Vahris did something unexpected - he liked it, and praised the mastership of Marhus, promising to keep the pot with him. The dog looked strikingly similar to his own pet, who recently passed away. It was to be something to remember the dog by, decided Vahris.
A few years later, all of the okad knew of the great potter and artist Marhus.
---
"Bharis! Do you think this is funny?!" - shouted Rodhos angrily.
"No, Master Rodhos!" - the boy seemed scared, genuinely scared - "I saw them, I saw the Tehry!"
"How many Tehry?" - asked Rodhos, still sceptical.
"I counted thirty!"
"A raiding party." - concluded Rodhos, and cursed himself immediately - "They concluded peace with us, they wouldn't dare! I will..."
"Let me show them!"
"Show them - NOW!"
The hunter and the small boy rushed into the forest, the boy eventually gesticulating for Rodhos to lie down, to hide in the bushes. Rodhos followed the advice, half-expecting some silly trap or trick.
But what he saw was different.
Tehra selad, so-called for giant, striped cats that live in the southern lands, were the most bitter enemies of the Yater selad. In the past, the Tehry won many great victories, and became renowned for their cruelty, driving entire sely extinct. Eventually, several sely grouped up to punish the Tehry, and crushed them in the great battle at Terna Rehed, where Swordlord Nirus gave his life in a berserk charge against the Tehry vodad, Kahus. With Kahus' death, the Tehry lost spirit, and were cut down by the allied forces. The surviving Tehry were forced to flee from their lands, and many were enslaved. But eventually, they regained strenght in the northwestern barren hills where they now resided, and waged wars with the Yatery. Vodad Yahris scored a great victory against them recently, and they agreed to pay tribute to the Yatery, even agreeing to marry their gladad's daughter to the victor, Yahris.
Yet... here they were again. In a desperate bid to grasp victory from the jaws of defeat, they went against all treaties and came through the forest they recognized as Yatera and Yatera alone.
Rodhos quietly thanked the boy, and they slowly, carefully begun making their way out of the forest.
A twig snapped.
To be continued.
)) Could My Capital possibly move west a little so its on the River?
