Jeg walked deeper into the woods. His footsteps went almost at random for his mind was not on his path nor his surroundings.
It wasn’t just Dalph, though the rift that had sprung up between them bothered him. Just one misplaced word, one misinterpretation, and thousands of years of bad blood between his people, the Marishny, and hers, the Iniya, came bubbling to the surface. They needed to work as one against their common enemy, and now a gaping chasm had opened up. The entire alliance was at risk.
Jeg walked on, head bowed. He had long ago left familiar territory, but he didn’t notice.
Actually, it was Dalph. The Iniya were so unapproachable. They were breathtakingly beautiful, with a holy light always surrounding them. There was something of the angelic with them for although they were as fallible as the Marishny, they could not knowingly do evil. Jeg’s own people, though aspiring to good, seemed to fall into the pitfall of evil all too often. The Iniya were slim and tall, a head taller than the average Marishny, and exceedingly strong. They could work minor magic. No, not work magic, they were magic. The Marishny were closer to animals while the Iniya closer to the heavenly Atonee. Continue reading