[center][color=00FFFF][h3]The Muhit[/h3][/color][/center]

Pain was her companion, from the tips of her toes to the top of her head, her limbs felt like they were on fire, her chest felt as though she were being crushed, her breath came in ragged gasps and sweat stung her eyes, leaving trails in the dust that caked her skin. She was oblivious to the strong breeze that was blowing in from the mainland and strong scent of spice and sand that came with it.

One foot in front of the other. She kept repeating it over and over again to herself as she ran, eyes focused on the narrow goat track in front of her. Her long black hair seemed to float behind her like a dark cloud despite an emerald green clasp at the back of her skull. One hand held a short spear, the other a light shield, and she wore only a loin cloth for protection from the thorny branches that tore at her as she passed. 

Birds burst into the air screaming in protest as she tore through a small clearing, her footsteps loud as they echoed back from a small rock face decorated with a shrine. She glanced up. The summit was nearing, one more bend and it was a straight sprint to the top. She tucked her chin down, summoned all her courage, and picked up her pace.

Her legs were screaming at her, every fibre of the muscles that rippled through her shapely body seemed ready to burst at any moment but she could not, would not stop. Her shoulders ached from carrying the shield and spear. Her feet hurt, bruises already well formed on the soles. Even her abs felt as though they simply wanted to give up. She gloried in it. The pain meant she was getting stronger. 

The final bend dropped away and she found herself on a straight section of path. It was flanked on either side by short grass and small purple flowers that grew in abundance throughout the mountain meadows. Ahead of her was a small pool, no more than a table in size, with stones that stood about it like a wall. She had built that wall to give herself to have a bit of privacy when she exercised and now, as she saw it, she poured the last of her energy into a headlong sprint.

The remaining distance seemed to fall away in a flash as she powered through her last few strides. She passed the outer edge of the wall at a full sprint, almost tripping relief as she dropped the spear and shield with a clatter. It took her several yards to come to a complete halt, her breath coming in desperate gasps as she nearly toppled onto the ground. She steadied herself on the wall and took deep breathes in through her nose, aware for the first time of the spice. It was a faint but still pleasant scent that mingled strangely with that of her own sweat. She wiped at the moisture running down her face and managed only to rub dirt into her eye. She cursed and rubbed at it some more, still gasping for air. 

Dirt somewhat under control, she straightened her back, pulled off her sweat soaked loin cloth and tossed it to one side. The breeze, ignored until now, felt wonderful on her naked skin as she stood, arms spread, face to the sun, taking deep breaths to calm her body. She stood that way for several minutes, eyes closed, her breathing slowly returning to normal. When she felt sufficiently recovered she began a stretching routine.

At length she opened a pair of midnight black eyes and looked around her. She was on the top of Alsakhrat and could see the whole world spread out before her. She could see small figures moving about caves below and she fancied that at least one of them might have seen her but she didn't care. She didn't plan to stay for much longer. In the bay the fishing fleet was beginning its return. 

Beyond the village the sand dunes turned into a vast plain that marched away to the east. Scattered forests could be seen here and there, and a handful of nomad camps were betrayed by the small curls of blue wood smoke that rose above them. No one here had much ambition. The world seemed to stand still at the best of times.

But not for Ishea. She was her parents only daughter and she wanted to fight. Even as a little girl she had sought out conflict with the boys her age and, though she took some beatings, she quickly began to win. Her parents, like most of the locals, had been impressed. They had encouraged her and her father often gloated about her fighting ability.

To Ishea it was only natural, the desire to be the fastest, the strongest. She had not even been aware of life beyond her little community until she was old enough to witness the arrival of a nomad trader. Ishea had been spellbound by the visitor, his hair and features so different than her own. Clad all in foreign furs and leading a short legged fat horselike creature, he had appeared to trade small pieces of shiny yellow rock for fish. Ishea did not remember what had been discussed that day but she had never forgotten the awe she felt when looking at that man. It made her want to know what else was out there. 

Now, as she turned and walked toward the small pool, she could feel all the aches and pains, the bruises and broken bones, that she had suffered in the twelve years since she first learned of people beyond her tribe. She could feel the burning in her lungs from all of the running she had done. She could see the scars on her arms and legs suffered during any number of activities. But most of all she could feel the burning desire deep down inside of her, the desire to be the best. 

She dipped a toe into the pool and smiled to herself. It was warm. The black rock that formed the upper level of the mountain had many small pools like this were heated by water coming from deep within the earth. She gingerly lowered herself into the pool, the heat instantly relieving some of her aches. The bottom was smooth, though covered in small rocks, but nothing else grew in the water. She had wondered if it was unsafe as she had tried drinking it and thrown up violently afterward. 

She lay back until her whole body was submerged save for her face, her black hair floating around her like some strange cloud. The sky above her was a shocking blue colour, completely devoid of any smoke or clouds, a pure and stunning colour. 

She closed her hands into fists and then stretched her fingers out, letting the warmth ease the tension she felt in every fibre of her being. She closed her eyes and began to relax. Something was coming, she could feel it.