The sunlight kissed her face before its warmth woke her. If it was the warmth that woke her at all. Perhaps it was the birds' singing.
Kishi's eyes opened slowly and stared blankly at the charred remains of the last night's fire.
"Huh," she mumbled–and jerked upright as she realized it was already daylight.
Her hand felt cramped–she'd fallen asleep on it. Kishi wrung her arm, then brushed her hair out of her face and ran her hands through it a couple of times before she twisted it into a bun.
Right. She was supposed to go to Norema today.
Well, now she was too late to get in with the morning rush.
Bother.
Kishi snatched up an apple, pulled her mask up over her mouth, checked that her dagger was in its sheath, and slipped one of her father's swords just slightly out of its own sheath.
She squinted at her reflection in the steel. Her face was clean, at least. Even if she looked angry enough to kill the first enemy to cross her path.
At least her path that day would be a long one.
Kishi removed her cloak and hung it over the swords gently. The cloth blended well with the trunk–it was made of a specific fiber that was highly valued by warriors and adventurers alike.
Karunic, of course. Kishi smirked to herself.
Now she kicked some of the dead ashes back onto the main firepit and stamped her boots on the clean dirt.
After another glance around her sanctuary, she set off for the path–a good half hour's walk away, through underbrush that would have lost anyone but the girl who'd grown up in it.
Ducking underneath a half-fallen log, Kishi set foot on the trail and made her way east.
That was the direction the soldiers had taken yesterday, she remembered. They'd probably stopped at Norema, too. But they would have moved on by now–unless, for some reason, Norema was their garrison.
Well. Maybe she'd find out today…
And maybe she'd see that Karunic rebel who'd so expectantly left her a note.
Hmph.
Kishi took a bite from the apple and promptly spit it out, glaring at the rotten section.
Of course. She couldn't even trust the apples around here.
Tossing the rest of it away into the woods, Kishi took another step forward–and froze.
"Ow!" someone yelled. "That…hurt!"
Kishi was up the closest tree before she had time to blink.
She breathed quickly through the mask, her eyes wide as she scanned her surroundings.
She knew how warriors felt. Why hadn't she–
Her unfinished question was answered a moment later when a little girl pushed her way through the underbrush and found the path.
The girl's mouth opened wide. "I found it!"
Kishi blinked.
A kid?
What the khur was a kid doing out here in the forest–alone?
The girl glanced both ways down the path.
"One, three, four!" she chanted. "I'm going to find you, Roka!"
So…someone else was here, too.
Presumably someone older.
Kishi held her breath as she watched and waited. The girl laughingly danced to the other side of the path, then poked her head around a tree.
"Silly!" she shouted, her voice a little less confident this time. "I'm still…going…to find…"
Kishi's eyebrows shot up as a young man swung out from behind a nearby tree and grabbed the girl.
"I found you first!" he shouted, the words almost drowned out by the girl's scream.
"Roka!" she howled. "You aren't supposed to do that!"
"But I did," the older boy laughed.
Kishi studied his face in the brief second where he was turned towards her as he twirled his sister around. He looked no older than seventeen, maybe eighteen. And he was definitely Hosharan–it was obvious from the angle of his forehead.
That meant the girl–presumably his sister–was Hosharan, too.
Kishi grimaced, though the rest of her was perfectly still. What were these kids doing in her forest?
Her face flushed beneath her mask.
They were villagers, no doubt, but they shouldn't be here.
"Come on, let's go home," the boy urged.
Kishi nodded to herself. Yes, please.
"But I wanna see the ghost," the girl pleaded.
Kishi's shoulders shook in silent laughter. Someone had told the kid there was a ghost in the forest?
"You can't see ghosts during the day." The boy grasped his sister around the waist and lifted her to his shoulders. "And ghosts are scary at night."
"You said we could look for her, though." The girl grasped a tuft of her brother's hair.
"Ow!" he shouted, amid her peals of laughter.
Her. The word hit Kishi like a zakun's sword.
She was really known as a ghost now?
Kishi didn't know whether she found the thought flattering…or dismissive.
Biting her lip, she watched the brother and sister make their way back east.
Kishi scowled. How had they gotten this far into the forest? Even if they were from Norema, the nearest village, that was still a two hours' walk away. There was no way the girl had walked that far.
Maybe her brother had carried her part of the way. If so, he was definitely strong.
Probably a zakun in training, then.
Kishi waited several minutes before the siblings' figures disappeared from view and their voices faded into the whispering of twigs in the breeze.
Then she made her way down the trunk.
Her leggings caught on a jutting piece of bark–and tore. Kishi muttered under her breath as she dropped the rest of the way to the ground and immediately checked the damage.
Well, it wasn't too bad. If no one noticed, no one could deduce that she'd been climbing trees. And she could buy more leggings while she was in town.
She'd just have to make sure no one noticed.
Step after step. Minute after minute.
By the time Kishi reached the walls of Norema, she felt hungry enough to eat a tree. Thankfully, she'd left them all behind a while ago.
Now she approached the open gate–and stopped short as two soldiers left the guardhouse.
Kishi caught her breath. This wasn't normal–the gate was never manned during the day.
Well, she couldn't stop now. They'd already seen her.
Biting her lip, Kishi strode towards the gateway, then stopped again as one of the Hosharan soldiers stepped in front of her.
"Papers?" he asked, holding out his hand.
Kishi was pretty sure the truth would hurt her less than a lie. She didn't like lying, anyway.
"I don't have any," she told the man as she watched his face carefully and his hands more carefully.
His jaw tightened. "What do you mean you don't have any? You're a rashei, aren't you?"
"Zakun," she corrected him.
He returned the correction. "Metai, you mean."
Kishi half-shrugged. Expressions were expressions…but she would use her own.
"So you don't have identification. Why not?" The other soldier stepped closer to Kishi. His cheeks hinted at a smile, but his eyes spoke otherwise.
She frowned, trying to keep her voice calm. "No one ever gave me any."
"But if you're in training…" The first soldier shook his head. "Pull down that mask."
Pull down the mask?
Kishi froze.
But only for a moment.
The next second her dagger was unsheathed and its hilt was slammed up at the first soldier's chin while Kishi kicked the second off his feet.
And the third second found Kishi taking off at a run through the gate, her hair coming loose and flying out behind her.
The second soldier hit the ground with a sickening thump that knocked all the air out of his lungs.
"Sol…diers!" he tried to cry out, but the first guard glared at him from where he lay on the ground, blood splattered on his cheek.
"We'll catch her when she leaves the city," the man swore. "Khur!"
His companion sat up slowly, massaging his ankle where the girl's foot had caught it. "What…what was that move? Is she really a metai?"
"Ha." The other man curled his cut lip scornfully. "That move ain't training, man. That move is history."
He allowed himself a groan while his companion stared at him in confusion.
"What do you mean, history?" the other man asked finally.
Lifting his dirt-ingrained hand, the first guard stared at it for a moment, then used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe the blood from around his mouth.
"I mean she didn't learn it from any rashei," he replied, the words slurring over slightly. "That's gotta be an ashkai's work."
He rubbed his disfigured chin, his face contorting at the pain the movement cost him.
"Which means when she comes back this way and we arrest her…"
His dark eyes narrowed.
"...There'll be a good reward waiting for us."
His companion didn't look convinced, but he stood up slowly anyway.
"Alright," he muttered. "But what if she–"
The first guard laughed, still lying prone on the ground.
"This is the only gate," he reminded his companion. "And if she chooses to climb a wall and jump–well, too bad for her."
He smiled, an ugly, bloody smile.
"That'd be a pretty sight."