The sky was fair that day, with a mellow autumn breeze flowing amidst the cold white light. A few dry leaves could be seen hovering about giving a harbinger of the cold to come.

Beneath them however lay a tense arena packed with a roaring crowd.

Three men wielding sharpened stakes and a horseman wielding a 12 foot lance circled around a great black bull angrily posturing in the middle

Kalu was just over 5 years old, bred and raised in Baron Semenskey’s holdfast. His shining black coat and pulsating muscles made him a sight to behold. His large doe eyes radiated a tender innocence that almost made one wish to pet him.

Almost thought the matador.

Two of the men charged at him from the back while the horseman made a quick stride towards Kalu and made a jab towards the beast’s neck but Kalu was one step ahead.

He dodged the lance with a jump to the side and charged at the men attacking from behind.

The poor man in front didn’t get to regret his error as a large curved horn tore right through his belly and sent his entrails hanging. Shrieks and wails jutted through the crowd but worse was to come.

The second man was half through his charge already and his right foot fell on the freshly revealed intestine and slipped. He fell solidly on his back.

He struggled to get up however two large hooves crashed into his chest sending a cracking sound across the stadium and a streak of blood from the man’s mouth.

Leyla, the gentle mare carrying the lancer shrieked at the grisly sight and reared back in terror sending its occupant flying. The man caught off guard failed to cushion the impact and his left shoulder shattered with a hideous snap.

His scream could be heard from miles away.

But Kalu was not done yet for he charged angrily at Leyla and ripped her insides open as well.

Some in the crowd wailed but many also started to cheer.

Kalu! Kalu! Kalu!

Kalu tried to calm down but his half ton frame shivered from the wounds on his back. He was a gentle soul who meant none harm but three sharpened stakes to his back got his blood boiling. As blood dripped from the heavy wounds he let out a roar in anguish.

The last man standing had gone pale. All his comrades were now dead or dying and he was merely armed with a stake.

Kalu now set his sight on the last man and prepared a charge. A stream of liquid ran down his pants and wet the sand. He closed his eyes for the end but a scream came from behind. The bull turned around.

The matador jumped into the arena as the crowd ground to a tense silence.

The man didn’t waste the opportunity and made a run for the stands. Some in the audience took the effort to laugh at him but most turned to the spectacle at hand.

The bull now turned towards its new opponent. This one was slightly shorter than the others but much leaner. In one hand was a red cape and a rapier in another.

Kalu made a home run at the cape bellowing in anguish and thirst, desperately seeking an end.

The matador stood in position until the last moment and flung sideways like a cat letting the horns pass by. The crowd roared.

Kalu stood confused for a while before turning around and making a short jab at his foe but the target was too quick and dodged this as well. This time however in addition to dodging landed a sharp cut on the front leg, sending a sharp streak of blood and the crowd soaring.

Kalu buckled under the blow. Red blood glistened against the shining black coat. It let out a cry of anguish. It grunted is exhaustion but his desire to live got it back on its feet.

Since its left front leg was injured it now planted its right leg forward, the matador prepared for the charge. kalu tilted forward and his target moved to the left but half way through he paused planted his left leg forward and charged.

The matador caught out of left field narrowly evaded the sharpened horn and fell to the ground losing grip of the rapier. Kalu tried to crush the target with his feet but the matador rolled out of the way and quickly got back to feet.

Kalu charged again but the target made a quick dive forward, just dodging the blow and landing right next to the fallen rapier. Wasting no time upon regaining the rapier, the matador charged forward fast and slashed hard at the bull’s hind leg.

The blow hit home and Kalu collapsed to the ground with a tormented scream.

The battle was over.

The crowd was ecstatic and many threw rose petals towards the stage. The matador now took off her bandana and hat to reveal a young coltish girl, no more than eighteen with a long lock of brownish hair and a pair of large black eyes.

Sasha! Sasha! Sasha!

She bowed to the cheering crowd but then her eyes fell to the bull. The poor creature was now struggling on the ground, bleeding profusely from the multiple wounds, its large black eyes desperately looking for a way to live.

The crowd roared Death Death Death!

Sasha couldn’t help but feel disgusted, to think they were cheering for him a moment ago.

Sasha lifted her rapier atop the bull’s head and then planted it firmly in the sand.

She would show mercy to the brave animal. After all man, bull and bird, all were children of the forest and cherished by the spirits.

‘May you live long my friend ‘, said Sasha.

The tournament was over. The women and children were leaving with candy or some other trinkets from the vendors while the men, that is the ones who weren’t drunk were either harkening for their money or busy trying to avoid paying up.

Sasha despite lacking an appendage belonged to the former.

‘Here you go dear, two gold eagles and 100 silver bulls ‘, said Azan as he handed over the coins to Sasha.

Sasha was for a moment overjoyed at the sight of all the coins; she took flight mentally, but soon came to a rude landing.

‘Hey, this is less than I counted! ‘, squinting her eyes and puffing her mouth she leaned on Azan.

The round shaped moneylender first arched back a bit and then let of a sigh.

‘Well it would have been more but Baron Gorka has imposed a new tax on all Half blood and native winnings. A two third tax on gold and half tax on silver ‘

‘Oh…’ Sasha’s face sank.

Azan spat, ‘May the plague take him! That fat, ugly bastard says that we mudskins have no business touching gold! As if he’s not an Ariya himself! ‘, Azan spat again this time the volley landed a bit too close to Sasha’s brown boots.

Sasha looked at around her back, two scrawny men were looking at them, and Sasha leaned forward,

‘Hey, Azan you shouldn’t talk of the lord that way, not in plain sight’

Azan suddenly grew mindful of his surroundings and snapped. He shrank from the size of a boulder to that of an apple.

‘Ah well…’ Sasha sighed, as she looked at her winnings, it was less than expected but it would still help her father a long way towards repaying his debt to the baron.

Four years ago when he had taken the debt in the first place this amount of money would’ve bridged the gap but something happened two years ago that really decreased the value of coins. Now everything seemed to cost twice as much and copper stars were practically worthless. She heard the merchants raging on about something the lecher king had done.

Azan leaned forward; he glanced at his surroundings and then quickly thrust a something into her palm.

‘Here, be quiet! The tax collectors can always undercount for a certain price. You deserve this. ‘

Sasha peeked at her palm and saw a gold coin and some silver. She came close to bursting.

‘Oh! Thank you Azan’ she leaned forward and gave a big kiss on his bald head.

Azan grew red and grinded, ‘I said keep quiet! ‘

‘Oh! Damn! I forgot…’ Sasha drew a stupid grin and scratched her head.

Arsuf laughed behind, ‘this girl is getting crazier every year. We’ll have to marry her off soon or she’ll die a maid ‘

Sasha turned and let out her tongue.

‘Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a steak to go home to ‘

Sasha was merrily walking through her village of Apola, named after the forest spirit of old. She could barely hold her mirth.

Yes we might finally be free, free from fear of losing our home, free of bondage

As a cart full of apples passed by she did a twirl and snatched one. Old, two toothed Jafar grunted, ‘You still owe me on those last two!’

Sasha winked before taking a large bite.

Little Alu and his tiny cohorts were playing with wooden swords. Seeing her they all rushed in front of her.

‘Hey guys I need to go! ‘

Alu and his friend Golu, held out their wooden swords in front of her in a cross.

‘Thou shall not pass without answering our questions ‘

‘Sasha you won the bullfighting contest?’

‘Tell us about it ‘

‘How big was the bull?’

‘Did anyone get hurt?’

‘How many bulls were there?’

She answered humbly to their inquisition before finally getting leave with some cotton candy. It had become an unwritten custom for her to buy the kids candy.

Sera often scolded that she was too generous and she was right but Sasha couldn’t help herself. A few copper stars were a small price for a child’s smile.

Daddy, Sasha thought, finally I’ve managed to do something for you.

She passed by rows of wooden houses, all of them had red orchids on the front, while the great well at the center of the village was enveloped by fire lilies. It was an old tradition stemming back to a time even before the Ariya.

Legend had it that the spirit Apola made her place here out of love for the flowers and blessed the surrounding lands with golden harvests. The village people in gratitude built a shrine of marble on the hill of remembrance in her honor.

The shrine did not survive the flames of Aedirn’s jealous god and his servants. The tradition of lilies and orchards however lived on. The lords and ladies of La Vallete found them too beautiful to burn away.

The village was relatively large for one in the Elyrian marches, with as many four thousand residents, complete with its own hospital, temple, workshop and market. Sasha was too young to know any other village but her father and other elders often spoke of how the village once hosted as many as 6000 people and was the largest in the Golden fields.

However since then many have fled to other villages in the golden fields, or even to the bordering provinces of Mazovia and Mahren, farther from Elyrian raids.

The people that are here now, are only here because of holdfasts like the one Sasha now stood in front of.

The holdfast of Apola was an old but formidable structure. Some say it dates back all the way to the Ariya kings. Possibly built by some petty Ariya king or lord, it was perhaps the first step in building a full castle to defend against the Aedirnian horsemen. It had stone walls as high as thirty meters, with arrow slits and slits for pouring out hot oil. But above all it had a large storage chamber underground capable of holding people and food for many days.

As her father put it, this holdfast was perhaps the reason she was even born, otherwise her mother heavy with her at the time, might have been taken off by the Elyrians.

But then again she thought, but again, why didn’t they torch the village or burn all the crops? Or steal all the cattle?

Why did they…, before the thought could finish an empty pumpkin landed on top her head.

‘Hello there pumpkin head! ‘, voice giggled behind her.

She took off the pumpkin and turned back to see a round, pretty face giggling at her.

‘Sera!’ she hugged her tight, then pulled her up and swung her around.

Sera laughed, ‘ok put me down now, you’re choking me! ‘

Sera straightened her white blouse; it was an apt match to her black skirt.

‘When did you come back?’

‘Just this morning’ Sera was catching her breath, ‘Lady La Vallete was generous, she gave me two days of leave ‘

‘Oh, it’s been so long since I’ve last seen you! You seem to have gotten a healthier, food is good there eh? ‘

Sera was about to talk but blushed, her cheeks grew red, ‘Not just the food. We have lot to talk about, come let’s go to the tavern, then we can catch up and… ‘, her face grew mischievous, ‘you are buying ‘