In the desert of Bitomal the temperature was dangerously cold as a double lunar eclipse took place upon the two moons. Nark Ajak immediately gathered his curved sword that was gifted to him when he completed his warrior training by his father, the Shinjara of Bitomal. He wore a set of unique armor to distinguish his high ranking status as a nark and commander of his own squadron of soldiers. They had prepared to set out after his sister, Ixel, and her friends. Ajak always thought of Ixel as bothersome and immature. She was always looking to cause trouble and since she was a narkanai not one citizen dared to speak against her. Thus giving her the sense that she could get away with anything without paying the consequences. Ajak, being a leading commander of Bitomal's guards, had a job to enforce the laws of the Shinjara; which is partly why he was always following behind Ixel cleaning up her messes. He also carried a great responsibility for the city's protection from intrusions and outsider attacks. He worked hard to earn this position as to make his father proud of his accomplishments and to prove that he was not a useless son.
He assigned a few of his loyal subjects to assist him in the retrieval of the runaways leaving the commanding position of the guards temporarily to his right hand man, Gatorm. Just outside the city gates, Ajak and his men wrapped themselves up with a special cloth that protected them from the chilling air. As he mounted his waroth, Gatorm filled him in on a bit of information.
"Commander, the Narkanai and the other fledglings took the low road to the west. They were last spotted entering the Dead Lands before disappearing from our sight. It is a less traveled road because of the possible threats of the varmints that lurk in that part of the domain. So be prepared for attacks of any kind."
"Thank you, Gatorm," Ajak spoke authoritatively, "we will handle the rest from here."
Gatorm pounded his chest with his fist and gave a sharp bow before backing up a few paces. He wished Ajak a safe journey and reiterated a common Jorkoe phrase, "May strength and power be with you." With a series of clicking sounds from his tongue and a tug on the reigns his waroth shot forward in a rapid dash. He could hear the pounding steps of soldiers following suit behind him on their own mounts. The tugging sensation in Ajak's gut instinctively warned him that his journey may not go as smoothly as he hoped.
To be continued...