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Writer's pictureKrista Jain

A Vayen Aray's Thoughts



Things were different a thousand years ago...


I mean, of course it was different. Times change. But when you place the past in with the present, it's hard to ignore the changes from such a perspective. No one remembers the terrible war against the rokians back then.


The rokians are our greatest enemies. I swear we were tied by their sides from the beginning of time. For years, they reigned in the vast jungle far south of Fairdraisha. That's where they should have stayed. There was nothing wrong with them there. They took control of the jungle itself. They had plenty of land and tamed so many of the creatures within it. For years, the people lived in tribes and lived on their own resources and magic.


Even after they became greedy and moved north for more power, they carried their old tribal heritage. The silver-skinned folk covered themselves in blue swirling symbols of meaning only they truly knew. They adorned themselves with the trophies from their beasts back in the jungle. Claws piercing their ears and teeth tied around their necks. Their eyes always seemed to shine brighter than any other, though I believe it was the stark difference between those colors against their pale skin.


They had magic unique to any other race. Humans have tried to study their curses before, but they all knew we, the vayen aray, are the most experienced with the rokians. Some of us even knew how to disarm their curses. That may be great and all, but when they arrived and began ravishing the humans of Fairdraisha, there was too much chaos for us to keep up with it all. We tried to help where we were able, but it just proved too much.


Sometimes I ask myself if I would have done it all again if I was given the chance. I would like to think I would. I would like to think we did the right thing in banishing the rokians even if it banished us as well. But then I worry they would forget our sacrifice. I never used to think about it until I realized how many years have passed. Humans don't live very long. That seems short indeed considering my kind live forever.


Once I finally get over these thoughts, I end up dreaming of Lyfíhana, our mountain home we thrived in for nearly an eternity. What became of it?


It is, or at least it was, a great hall created by my winged kin. We like to live in flocks, so the piercing mountain on the lonely island just south of the mainland of Fairdraisha was the perfect place to call home. Of course, it made the journey to the mainland long, but it was worth the price. The humans and elves always knew where to find us.


That land will always be my home even if I never see it in ten-thousand years... That's a very long time, but I've gotten there before and I'll live then as well. It only saddens me further when I consider my allies. Even the elves would move on by that time. The rokians we took with us are already elders. The only people I will recognize as my friends even if we can somehow return are the vayen aray.


That's fine. I'm glad I have them with me. It's a lonely road as it is. We'll make it no matter the struggles of this new world. It may be different. It may not be anything like the world we once knew, but I'll continue to spread hope.


If I never return, my dear friends of Fairdraisha, remember me, Rocanu of the vayen aray, as a man who sacrificed everything for peace. For freedom. And I'm not mad at any of you for what happened. I just want you to remember.


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