Turia Ablaze

Rivers of blood flowed in Turian streets the night of her birth. The cries of the newborn girl child were overshadowed by those of the battle below. Flames framed the view of grand buildings as they seamstress Allerande brought life into the world. The small girl, child of a young Tuchuk, called out with a lusty scream as the healer lifted her to Allerande. A warrior, his dark leathers stained with blood, came through the door with great stealth. The sight of mother and child brought a smile to the scarred visage, his demenor changing as he approached. "Perfect night for a child to be born." said the warrior. "Perfect night for a battle." said the woman. The healer departed quickly, need for her talents pressing elsewhere. As blood flowed and fire burned the two named their newborn daughter. "She shall be called Melina."

Beginning

The children are bedded down for the evening, so I have a few moments to begin this project. Many people have urged me to write my autobiography, a task I've resisted up until now. It's not that there is anything in my past that I am ashamed of, but writting about some parts of my life is difficult. There are emotions that defy words, actions that defy description. Both for the ease of writing, and reading I will format this work as a series of short stories. Skies, it will probably take en'var to put to rence what has been a twisting, turning life's journey. The Tuchuk would call it my life song, the history of a person put to song and passed down through the years by the Camp Singers. Since so much of my life has happened beyond my years in among the Tuchuk, let's just call them memories.