Morning came, and with it a chorus of birds, and the sounds of Nyxari preparing breakfast.
By the time Spectra and Noctari groggily made their way downstairs, the smell of meat, eggs, and jungle herbs filled their home. Spectra sat at the table, rubbing sleep from his eyes while Noctari leaned against the counter, watching her younger brother.
Nocte entered from the sleeping room, donning a leather tunic and adjusting his wrist straps. "By the two moons, if there was a skill you weren't blessed with, I pray they tell me now," he said, giving Nyxari a smile and approving nod for the meal.
Before long, Crow's whistling made its way to their front door. Opening the door as if it were his own home, he sauntered inside and took a seat at the dining table.
"Ready to train, little shadow," he asked Spectra, stealing a strip of meat from off the boy's plate and tossing it into his mouth.
"Hands off the boy's food, he's growing!" Nyxari yelled, throwing a wooden spoon.
Crow ducked, darting behind Nocte, who promptly grabbed him by the arm, shouted something unintelligible, and dragged him into hiding behind Noctari."Leave Papa and Uncle alone!" the girl giggled, spreading her arms as if to shield them.
Nyxari smiled. This routine had been going on for years, since before Noctari was born.
'Good to see some traditions never die,' she thought to herself.
"Okay, you three, enough horseplay. You get ready, we are leaving soon," she said, pointing to her daughter, " And you," Shifting her gaze to Spectra, still in the midst of his morning feast, "Finish up, your father and uncle are waiting."
Spectra sprang up, scarfing down the last bite of his food before giving his mother a hug. Nyxari kissed the top of his head.
Noctari, however, grabbed him in a tight hug, "I will always be here for you," she whispered.
The boy grinned.
Nocte, Crow, and Spectra departed together. Nyxari lingered at the doorway, waving them off.
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When Nyxari reached the shaman's learning grounds. Several children were already gathered, seated in a wide circle, repeating chants under the watchful eyes of the instructors.
Arctosari — Eclipsis's wife, wearing her shaman robes, got up to meet the tribe's matriarch.
Giving a bow in greeting, she outstretched her hands to Noctari, who was by her mother's side, "I'll take her from here," Arctosari said warmly.
She led the girl to a smaller group of children in another part of the grounds, led by Tseraka, designated for special training.
Nyxari watched them go for a moment before continuing to her post at the village hall.
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The village square was teeming with life, even this early in the day. Shopkeepers opened doors to the villagers, smiths hammered away, and even the traveling merchants had begun setting up stalls in appointed areas.
The sound of clashing steel carried faintly from the pathway that led to the barracks and the training field that stretched out behind it.
Nyxari smiled, knowing Nocte was there, whipping the troops into shape.
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As she walked, last night's conversation kept eating away at her. Things she couldn't explain were now beginning to make sense to her. The look of understanding she would see in Spectra's eyes. The speed at which he learned things, from reading, speaking, and even basic writing.
'The boy already has an innate ability to perceive and comprehend things. I shouldn't be surprised, given what the boy is.'
Nyxari had forgotten that Spectra was fundamentally different from the rest of them, the same way Varnari were fundamentally different from Solnari and Lunari.
'And speaking of Dusknari, why won't Nocte tell me where the armor is. The man sure is possessive when it comes to things that deal with Spectra.'
Her thoughts were interrupted by the mass of people that had swarmed her like a school of hungry piranha.
Lost in thought, she had already arrived at the village hall, and the swarm had been waiting. From merchants to disgruntled landowners, all of them had business with the Tibe leader, and all wished to be heard, yelling over one another.
"Enough!" A single command silenced the chorus of demands, "Form a line. Do it in the order you arrived; if there is an argument or dispute, all of you are out. Am I understood?"
All present nodded their heads in unison, then, without so much as a peep, they shuffled into an orderly line-up.
She sat down upon her throne, a chair made from the body of a Dreadwild beast, a creature of the highest class; even above an Umbrawild beast.
It resembled a massive pangolin, with its long tail and armored exterior, it commanded a horde of a thousand beast-strong. Nocte and his troops had fought them for seven days and seven nights before Nocte delivered a killing blow to their soft underbelly. Thinking it would make a perfect chair for his wife, he had it stuffed and made into a throne fitting a woman of Nyxari's stature.
At the side of her table, to her left, was her assistant. The man was built like a blade of grass, with not a shred of fat, but also not a shred of muscle; he was skin and bone. His tan skin was pale from a lack of sunlight, and his gaunt, angular face gave him a ghoul-like quality. His green eyes, drowned in two pools of black, were lifeless.
The Varnari was not a pleasant man to look at.
He may have been the only Varnari in history to have never touched a sword or learned a shaman's chant. Despite this, he was the third most feared individual in Noctvalis Village, and once one of the most reviled criminals in the Noctovrn Tribe.
Talvorn, meaning coin born, was the tribe's treasurer. From the moment he could form a sentence, words had been his weapons, and negotiations were his battlefields. His motivation, God, and lover were Sabi coins.
He was involved in all types of corruption during his time in Noctvorn. Still, after crossing too many people, he was ratted on, detained, and marked for execution. Nyxari, amused by avariciousness, as well as his gifts in communication and money handling, offered an olive branch to the man.
Renounce your wicked ways and become my worker.
And now, years later, here he was, still greedy and miserly, but just.
All money-related matters within the tribe were handled by him, and him alone. Merchants loathed negotiating with him, as they always ended up on the short end of the deal; shopkeepers who had tried to bribe him had found their shops boarded up the very next day.
After denying her funds for procuring a large quantity of herbs, Tseraka was convinced that the gods themselves owed her a debt, having tried and failed to curse him through a ritual.
"Tribe Leader, two of the other branch villages did not pay tribute. Have your husband send a small squad to burn them down. We need to send a message that paying tribute on time is not a game." He requested Nyxari in a deadpan voice.
'Mostly reformed,' Nyxari chuckled as she shook her head.
Despite his attitude, background, appearance, and disposition, Talvorn was one of Nyxari's two most invaluable subordinates.
The second had slipped his way in undetected while the masses were trickling out.
He leaned against one of the Hall's support beams and removed the hood from his cloak, revealing a pair of red Varnari eyes staring out from behind a black cloth mask.
"Tribe Leader." He greeted her with a slight bow of his head.
"Vulture." She returned with a nod.
The cloaked man known as Vulture was the head of the intelligence network of Noctvalis Village. Though he handled more discreet matters, that was his official role. He had proven himself time and again and was granted some autonomy, which allowed him to maximize his time in the field.
The fact that he was standing before Nyxari now meant he had something to report.
"Cindermarcher burnt a village in the northern part of the region. I captured one, and he told me they were looking for a child around four years old. I recall that War Chief Nocte wanted any information on Cindermarcher activity reported immediately, so here I am."
Nyxari's eyes widened.
Before she could say anything, Talvorn cut in, looking at Vulture,
"And the Cindermarcher in question?"
The two men shared a blank stare.
Vulture said nothing.
"Ahh, I see."
Talvorn was the third most feared, and Lobo the second.
The Corpse Eater was the undisputed first.