S'Kra Mur Stories

The Library of S'Kra Mur

While there are many books that can arguably be considered relevant to the S'Kra Mur, the ones collected here are meant to be stories that are told and retold over the ages.

In Game Books

Royal Library Archives

Located in Muspar'I

• The History of Muspar'I - The story of Mhalush
• History of the Ru'atin Peri'el - Story from the Ru'atin of Aesry.
• Histories of the Lohogi'hhs'ur - Story of how the Lohogi'hhs'ur were changed by Hav'roth
• Isth'hhtaw'hhs Shh'oiyvh-ur - The story of a Dragon Priest
• S'Kra Langing Upon the Eastmost Island - Origin Story of the Lohogi'hhs'ur (Reshalian S'Kra Mur)
• S'zella's Tale - The story of S'zella
• Wedding of Rothnar and Shhneri - A Wedding Tale

Libraries of Qi

Aesry

• Singers of Aesry Surlaenis'a - Brief information on the Ru'atin Peri'el

Mer'Kresh

• History of Mer'Kresh - The Cursed Island

Ratha

• My Grandmother's Stories - Folk tales and a story in the style of the Forbidden Lovers.
• Hhshal's Revenge - A gripping love story.

Player-Created Tales

The following stories were written by players and utilized for roleplay purposes.

The Brothers Pazh and Khhn

A layered folk tale.

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Submitted by: Inauri

Many years ago, in a time before the current King, there lived two friends in Muspar'i named Pazh and Khhn. Young men already, the two were inseparable and full of trust and kindness for each other. Growing up among the Gamants, this friendship was nothing out of the ordinary, for the two belonged to same Gamant, the Gamant'hr'ith or Fourth House in fact. But as the sands of the desert shift with the wind, so too, do the Gamants of the Desert Jewel.

Secretive and full of ploys, growing up among the Gamants can be intimidating. Much more so when the young come of age to take mates. You see, each House is always looking to pair their eldest into the House above their own. It's all about attaining and keeping status among them, especially while a monarch is seemingly not in danger of being unseated.

Tired of the city life, Pazh and Khhn agreed to spend some time away from the bustle, and most importantly, away from the constant machinations of their families as they studiously attempted to arrange weddings for them. The pair packed for a journey and followed the Heke'mhhg out of the city and to the north. They were happy to enjoy the peaceful quiet of the river and the company of each other.

After many days of traveling, the friends came upon a beautiful oasis lush with plants, fresh water, trees, and many a small desert creature seeking respite. Excited by their discovery, they quickly decided to stay here for awhile and relax.

Pazh loudly proclaimed, "It has been thirty days since I held scrolls and books to study!" Khhn laughed and added, "And it has been thirty long days since I sat up late studying alchemical properties!" The two rejoiced in their freedom and settled into the oasis, fully intending on enjoying themselves.

As the pair lay in the shade, dozing in the late afternoon, the soft sound of a beautiful voice lifted their very spirits. Leaving behind their spots of comfort, they rose and sought the source of such a sound and found a woman bathing in the springs, singing a song of their people in a soft alto. Pazh nudged Khhn and he nodded mutely. "She's perfect." Khhn murmured. Pazh mumbled agreement and with a step forward, the spell before them was ruined. The woman turned in surprise at the noise, her song ending.

She stood in the water, her damp robe clinging to her form as the men blushed with shame and apologized. Rather than send them away, she left the water and joined them. "Hreshi." she introduced herself as she reacquired the rest of her clothing. The men gawked but quickly introduced themselves as well and offered to share their dinner with her. She accepted and the trio talked for many hours into the night. It was quite clear that both men were very enamored with her and she with them.

In the small hours of the morning, Pazh and Khhn whispered among themselves, "Khhn, you are my brother and I would see you happy. You should wed the siren Hreshi." But Khhn was a kind brother as well. "No, Pazh. I must not take your happiness away. You should wed her." The two continued thusly until ultimately, they decided that neither would seek her hand, for it would split them and cost them their friendship.

The three spent many days together in the oasis, and it came to pass that Pazh and Khhn learned that Hreshi also lived in Muspar'I, but she had been lost for some time and was unsure which way to follow the river to return home. Easily agreed, the two decided to escort Hreshi back to the city for they had both been away long enough to begin missing their former life.

The trio returned to the city without issue and in the District of Priests, Hreshi parted with the men to seek prayer and counsel before returning to her home. The men in turn, went back to their Gamant and returned to their former studies and duties. And as the days passed, news came from the Gamant'hr'ur, the First House, that a lost daughter had been found and that in her travels, she had met and selected her mate. All were invited to attend the announcement, where the husband to be would be revealed.

Pazh and Khhn looked to each other, each confident the missing daughter was none other than Hreshi and one of them would be joining the Royal Family very soon in marriage. They lamented the luck of their lives, as this would surely draw an end to their close friendship. In turn, the two made a pact to refuse the marriage offered and remain together, preserving their deep friendship.

The day dawned soon enough and the many Gamants gathered within the walls of the Gamant'hr'ur, awaiting the main event while they enjoyed the refreshments and entertainment. A flurry of music struck up and the King and his Queen came out to greet the Gamants. After a moment, a beautiful woman came into view and it was none other than Hreshi. Pazh and Khhn looked to each other, their tails low, for they knew they must break this woman's heart.

Hreshi beckoned Pazh and Khhn both forward by name and the Gamants gasped in shock and surprise that not one, but two from the Fourth House would be named by her. As the pair prepared to dash the dreams of Hreshi to the sands, another woman joined Hreshi, in every way, her twin. Pazh and Khhn looked to each other, and without speaking, knew, that Hav'roth had smiled down upon them, blessing them.

The First Miracle of Norayaz

A story from the life of the Maiden of Peri'el.

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Submitted by: Yraggahh

This tale is ancient, but sometimes told in Ratha. Some listeners may not care for the simple lesson involved here, but I will share it regardless. While not as popular as the Slaying of the Oloh'naarti or the calming of the Juludeitak, it is important to those who hold to traditions. It is sometimes referred to as the First Miracle of Norayaz.

When the original homeland of the S'Kra Mur was sundered and sent into the sea, Mhalush communed with Hav'roth nightly and was led by the Cobra to take those who followed him to the mainland. But the tender-hearted maiden of Peri el was concerned for the rest of the Mur who were now stretched thin across the burning isles, dealing with the calamity caused by Dhrakhh.

And thus, Sraan Irhhnth became splintered like Qi, for those who did not follow Mhalush remained with the maiden, Norayaz.

Norayaz and the rest of the sraan traveled for many days across the remains of their territory, and while they did find many S'Kra Mur who needed help, they failed to bring them hope. For the land itself was caked in Ushnish's venom, and such wrath left the ground covered in ash and glass. Wildlife was scarce and the people were wanting for food.

Norayaz began to lose faith, and one night wandered away from her encampment, collapsing into the ash-covered ground. The loss of Zaarin, their home, and many of their people crushed her devoted spirit. Laying there she cursed her blessed life: If only we had died there by your hands then I and my people would not suffer as we do.

As her tears flowed into the ash, a kingsnake slithered out of the ash besides her and coiled beneath her head. It whispered: I have heard your wailing and seen your concern for your Sraan, return here tomorrow with your people and see what your tears bring, and know that I am your lady forevermore.

And when Norayaz did return to the ash-bed with the sun now high above their heads, there sprang forth the growth of small iroepi plants and hope came with them.

It was at that moment that Norayaz realized that as if her people kept faith with their Gods, they would not be abandoned.

Norayaz spoke to her people long into the night about Peri'el and things she had seen as the maiden. Their tails strengthened by her faith, and followed her onward.

How Daiuaro Plucked the Lofty Flower

A layered love story from the Shh'oi Gamant of Muspar'i.

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Submitted by: Qihhth

It happened this way, long ago."

A handsome Mur, called Daiuaro by those who loved him, was the most fearsome, and feared keeper of books in all Velaka. From the First House to what some styled the 'Last House,' none could be called his equal. Not the lightest copper could evade his careful accounting. Those who would deal falsely with Gamant or Sraan feared to cross him. Many times he turned the schemes of Low Houses and High back against them, always to the profit of House and Sraan.

Daiuaro was every day enfolded in the love of his family. His Aunts ensured that a fresh, hot meal was kept always ready for him, no matter how late his toils for the house might keep him. He dearly loved to medidate in house's shadowed garden, so it was always kept swept and tidy. A gentle fountain always murmured gently within, no matter the expense such an amount of water might carry. His sisters asked his advice for small things, his father and mother for large things. Even the clan Matriarch was known to nod thoughtfully and smile indulgently when he spoke. In turn he gave freely of the labors of his dagger-sharp mind, his generous good nature, and the gift of his easy conversation.

This blessed Mur gave and received all these gifts freely, as is fitting, but one thing he did not seek, or need, or even miss -- romantic love. Daiuaro had seen and appreciated many fine Murs in his time, but none moved him or kindled within him the fire he knew others might feel for this one, or that one. He loved and was loved by his Sraan, Gamant and family, and wanted nothing more.

However, there was one more gift required of Daiuaro, which his lack of yearning and fire rendered complicated. One bright morning, his favorite Aunt visited him over his books and his morning cup of tea. Her tail undulated gently above the tiled floor as she said, "Dear One, there is something the Sraan requires of you, though you know how we have valued all that you have given us. The Speaker is firm in this -- we must have your Heir.

In vain, Daiuaro offered to adopt a promising young one, to bring fresh bloodlines to the Gamant and Sraan. His aunt insisted that it was his gifts, his blood, which was required. Daiuaro accepted this, as he knew he must, and explained that though he felt a great love for his gamant and his sraan, he would not and could not feel romantic love for any partner they might propose.

Her tail sweeping an affirmative gesture, his aunt assured him that this would not be a problem. The terms would be stated explicitly in the contract, so that the union would be freely entered by both, and founded on honesty and good understanding, as these things should be. Daiuaro accepted the list of candidates his aunt proposed, and acknowledged to her that he would inform her of his choice in three days' time.

To his delight, he noticed the name of a childhood friend near the very top of the list of candidates! Daiuaro knew that Her heart was much as his was, as they had dicussed this at length while still coming into their maturity. She was everything he might wish for in a spouse, and knew that their children, his heirs, would be strong, joyful, and cunning, lacking none of the many gifts our Gods' have bestowed. It did not hurt, of course, that her Gamant stood a little higher than his, but he felt his reputation and standing would be equal to winning the prize.

The very next day, he informed his Aunt of his choice -- Q'zharasha -- and she said all would be arranged. By chance, some week later, he met his old friend at a bookseller's shop, and joyfully informed her of their news, confirming his gladness at their coming bond. To his shock, she professed ignorance! Though she knew a contract could have been possible, her Gamant had heard nothing since! Taking his leave in haste, Daiuaro nearly fled back to his House, seeking her aunt at her study without waiting to be announced.

"Aunt!" cried he, "What has happened? Has Q'zharasha's Gamant turned aside our suit?"

"On the contrary," she said, tail undulating passively, "We have not sought this match. Instead, we chose from a lower house, a safer bet -- do you not agree? The contract is here, quite prepared, it waits only for your signature and that of the Speaker."

Tail twisting in embarassment and some amount of anguish, as he knew nothing of this lower daughter, Daiuaro was forced to assent, lowering his head humbly. "It must be as you say, of course, but I had hoped -- for Q'zharasha"

His aunt's tail gave a brief twitch, and she lowered her eyelids slightly as she gazed upon him saying, "It will be as it will be."

A week later, Daiuaro, tail low, went to the signing room to finalize the contract, chaining his fate forever to this daughter of a lower house whom he had never met, nor wished to meet. As he entered the room, his tail curved upward in surprise!

Q'zharasha stood proudly beside the table, her tail giving a small, pleased undulation at the sight of him. Attempting to compose himself, he forced his tail into a more decorous posture, and bowed into the proper greeting. The signing was all a blur, his good fortune and happiness clouding his recall.

After every guest had departed, he came back to himself and thought to ask his Aunt the question that had never fled from his mind in all the time of the signing. "Aunt! I believed you were seeking contract with the daughter of the house below us! How came Q'zharasha to this signing? Why did you deceive me?"

Allowing the hint of a smile to illuminate her face, his Aunt's tail described a self-satisfied gesture. "The first contract placed us in a much better position to negotiate with Q'zharasha's people. And should it not have gone well, we had already established our best alternative to the negotiated agreement. Do you see?"

Daiuaro's tail curled humbly about his left ankle, a smile that might make a human blush adorning his fair features. "Of course."

Daiuaro never forgot this lesson, and lost no time in adding it to his own weaponry. His bookeeping became ever fiercer, and the children of his union soon became his greatest Joy, and his house rejoiced in them.

In some circles, Daiuaro is something of a legendary figure, the unstoppable bookkeeper who may never be fooled. Some Houses claim him as their own ancestor.

Princess Sarilotha

A layered folk tale about the Princess Sarilotha.

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Submitted by: Inauri

Princess Sarilotha

Long ago, more than two thousand years before the lands knew of Lanival the Dragon, King Zayoikhhl of Qi'Reshalia sat upon the throne. While the king played a large role in the War of the Waves, this story is not about him. No, this story is about his daughters.

King Zayoikhhl had two daughters, Namishda and Atinake. Namishda was the eldest and took after her mother in all ways, including her fraility. Atinake was smart. She spent much of her time studying and reading. The two sisters lived blessed lives, until like their mother, Namishda was taken by sickness and returned to the arms of Ushnish.

The king watched as Atinake grew cold and distant without the warmth of her sister and so he decided to adopt a third daughter. Sarilotha was brought into the family from the lower classes and was a thoughtful and warm-tempered child. She easily won over Atinake and the two became inseperable.

As time pasted, both daughters grew to marriable age and Atinake was soon married to a leader of a newly absorbed island in order to secure peace with them during the war. Left alone with her father, Sarilotha grew comfortable within the palace, secure with the thought that because she was adopted, she would not have her choice to marry taken away from her.

As her father grew older, he took ill and Atinake came home to see him and Sarilotha as their father lie on his death bed. "You must be wed, Sarilotha. It is time. You will take the throne after me." When Sarilotha refused, for she did not want the throne, nor to be married, he insisted firmly and told her that her marriage was already arranged and would happen in one month.

Atinake, being older, felt jealousy surge through her and away from their father, told Sarilotha about the Sisters of Peri'el and suggested she run away and become one. Seeing this as her only way to freedom, she thanked her sister and fled the next day, leaving behind her identity.

The next day, the king learned of what had happened and punished Atinake severely, disavowing her of the throne and claimed that his spirit will sit upon it until the day Sarilotha returns. Ashamed, Atinake returned to her husband and her home and never set foot in the palace again.

The king continued to rule from his death bed even unto his dying day, in which a careful selection of his generals were ordered to rule and to find his daughter, Sarilotha. Sarilotha, however, had already landed before the large gates of the Sisters of Peri'el. Garbed in simple robes and sandals, she sought entrance to the Sisters, but because she would not give them her name, she was forced to become their servant.

Sarilotha worked tirelessly for the Sisters and suffered many insults and much poor treatment, but she never once spoke back to them. Finding her life to be unhappy, she accepted this as her punishment from running from her duty and each day she worked until her back was nearly breaking.

In time, her spirit was crushed and she did all she could to make the Sisters love her by finishing duties early and doing more than asked, and even doing things before she was asked. Rather than praise her work, the Sisters continued to ignore her kindness and treated her as little more than a slave.

One day, while out gathering wood, a small golden kingsnake moved about the timber. Fearing for her life, Sarilotha breathed a prayer to Peri'el and waited for the serpent to reach her, but instead, as the snake reached her, it curled about her ankle and slept peacefully. After some time, the kingsnake woke and left, leaving Sarilotha to finish her duties.

The next day, as Sarilotha returned to gather more firewood, she found a large stack of it already gathered for her. As she approached it with wonder, she caught a flash of golden scales as a small snake slithered out of view. After a few days of this, enough wood had been gathered to last the Sisters an entire winter.

Unimpressed with this, the Sisters decided that since Sarilotha had finished her work so quickly, she had plenty of time to carry buckets of water up the cliffs in order to fill their resevoir. Each day, she silently climbed up and down the path until one day while filling her buckets, a golden kingsnake appeared in her path again.

Frozen in place, she remembered the last time she saw a snake like this and she decided to wait until it left on its own. Unfortunately, this time the kingsnake approached her and became a beautiful golden scaled S'Kra Mur in flowing robes. Realizing she was in the presence of Peri'el, Sarilotha dropped to her knees, spilling her buckets across the Goddess' feet.

Peri'el reached forward and bid the girl to stand and told her to return to the grounds with empty buckets and to leave them at the gate. Complying with the Goddess, Sarilotha returned back and set her empty buckets by the gate. The Sisters berated her for shirking her work and had her spend the rest of the day cleaning the floors.

The next day, the Sisters awoke to find a new well inside the gates. As they pulled a bucket of water up, they found it to be crisp and clean. None knew of how the well came to be and none even thought to think it was due to Sarilotha that it was even there.

Now two months missing, the king extended his search for his daughter. As the search party arrived at the gates to the Sisters of Peri'el, the Sisters sought to turn them away, for they only saw Sarilotha as only a nameless servant. But one of them had been to the Sisters before and noticed the new well. The party was tired, and the king, still quite ill, though hiding it well, needed rest before traveling again. They requested to rest in the courtyard and take from their new well.

The Sisters of course allowed the party to take respite and when asked about the well, the Sisters were unable to answer. It was then that a small golden kingsnake crawled up from the well and became the Goddess Peri'el. The S'Kra before her knelt in homage as she told them all of the pure heart of Sarilotha. The Goddess bid her forward and rising, Sarilotha removed the cowl obscuring her face. King Zayoikhhl gasped in shock, recognizing his adopted daughter immediately.

Smiling, the Goddess leaned toward the girl and whispered something to her and abruptly disappeared. The Sisters began to object as they watched Sarilotha walk to the king. "She is just a peasant. Please excuse her rudeness your highness!" they cried. But the king only smiled and opened his arms, for his wise princess had chosen to come home.

The Rathan Ru'atin

A story of two siblings.

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Submitted by: Sorhhn

This is a story of two S'Kra, known as Hhrasa and Velar. They were young, barely more than adolescents, living on the streets of Ratha.

They were siblings, and they lived on the streets. Their parents had died while they were younger. But they prospered, in a sort of way, as they always had their sibling, whom they could trust absolutely.

When you are reduced to stealing for your daily meal, it always helps to have an accomplice to make a distraction or a partner to spring you from the grasp of a guard.

Hhrasa was older than her brother, and as they grew, and she became beautiful to men, her prospects grew. She was able to bring most of the money in, after her own fashion. Velar, however, wished to contribute equally to his sister.

He went in deeper with the local crime syndicates. Taking more dangerous jobs, with dangerous people. As time went by, he took powders to calm his nerves.

He was successful, and matched his sister for a while. He began to make a name for himself. But over time she noticed that while he was out just as often, he brought in less and less. He had become dependent on the powders. He denied any accusations of such, however, insisting that times were hard, the takes not as ripe as they had been.

Things grew worse. Hhrasa tried to help her brother, but she could not be standing over his shoulder at all times. As she learned of rumors of her brother sinking into debt with the worst sort of individuals, she grew deeply concerned.

One day he came back to their flat, ragged and exhausted after a night working. He did not leave the room that day, and she heard rumors that he had stolen something from his employer, a man that should never be crossed. She returned to the flat to ask him.

He swore that they were lies only. That nothing would come of the rumors, as he had touched nothing. Now, this was the sort of man that, if someone you knew had crossed him, you would flee for your life. She asked him, begged him, to tell her the truth. Even if it was a bad truth, they would face it together.

Still in the throes of the powders he took, he swore to her that he did not take the item, a very precious gem. She believed him, as how could she not? He was her brother, her ru'ati.

Her friends told her that she should abandon him, before he dragged her down as well. One even offered to 'take care of the problem', claiming he had broken their bond with his lies. But she refused. They had always been a ru'at of two.

She would not forsake her brother.

The man eventually came to their flat, with his thugs. Velar swore he took nothing, so when Hhrasa saw them coming, and did not take the chance to flee. She would not abandon him.

The men beat them both to a bloody pulp. After what seemed like ages had gone by, though it could have only been minutes, and their life was leaking out on the floor, Velar admitted it. He had stolen the gem. He had it concealed beneath a floorboard.

The man did not brook thieves, nor liars. He had them both killed, to send a message to anyone who might steal from him again. They lived as a pair, they died as a pair.

The Rise of Sraan Smolg

A historical tale of warfare.

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Submitted by: Yraggahh

This is a story of Sraan Smolg's rise.

As all know, when Sarkhhl became Chieftain of Smolg, he set out to conquer Reshalia, unifying it under their banner.

On Reshalia, there existed a similarly sized Sraan that hailed from the northern bluffs and ruled the surrounding farmlands.

The chieftain of that Sraan refused to unify with Smolg, thus, to control all of Reshalia, Sarkhhl would need to defeat this Sraan.

But just as Sraan Smolg had a considerable fortress on Pivilho, this rival Sraan had a stronghold within the northern bluffs.

This put Sarkhhl in a precarious position, because if he launched a siege against his rivals, he would lose many warrior, and his chances of unifying the S'Kra would dwindle.

He needed to preserve his men, while claiming the farmlands, and save as many men from his rival as he could. But what could he do?

He believed that the only way to save his own men would be to somehow draw the enemy forces out of the stronghold and into a weakened position.

And to do this, he used the strengths of his own Sraan as his advantage. He took Smolg's collection of raiding ships and strung them with the colors and emblems of Sraan T'Lar.

For weeks he used these ships to have his warriors raid the shores near the bluffs and the villages near the stronghold, taking necessary goods and supplies away from the enemy.

He did this until scouts reported that movement within the stronghold stirred and men began marching out to defend the settlements.

The enemy believing they were being assaulted by a different Sraan and not Smolg.

Thus safe from the southern approach of Pivilho.

Sarkhhl then took his entire fleet of raiding ships, and had them lightly manned, ordering them to become visible on the horizon from the shores, but to cease their approach.

As the rival Sraan prepared its army for an assault from the shore, Sarkhhl assaulted the lightly guarded stronghold with his forces. In this manner he was able to defeat the rival chieftain.

But the chieftain still refused to align with Sraan Smolg, and thus the Chieftain was executed, and the Sraan was absorbed into Smolg, as is the old ways.

Their name being erased across time.

Those interested in the old strategies are taught much about Sarkhhl and his unification, but this tale teaches us a simple truth. That all war is deception.

The Tale of Pasha

A layered folk tale in the style of the Forbidden Lovers.

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Submitted by: Inauri

The story I tell is one you may have heard before, as it is retold generation by generation. It shifts with our people, as any tale should. This is the story of Pasha.

Pasha was the daughter of the Keeper. She was admired for many reasons. Her rich golden scales, her long.. curving tail. And above all, because she danced like the wind between the trees. To say she was desired is a terrible understatement.

Following in the traditions of her people, she traveled away from them and onto distant lands. She became a Listener for a time. Learning the stories of others, the skills they had developed, and much more. All in service of her people, for she was tasked to return and share this new knowledge among them.

As she traveled, she met many new faces. Some familiar looking, and some not. Some she traveled with, and some.. not. One she traveled with was naught but a simple Human man. Easily dismissed by most of us, but to Pasha.. she saw his strength while they traveled. He fought bandits away from their party with a grace only matched by her own easy movements.

As can be expected of two persons that entwine their lives in such a way, Pasha found herself feeling more for this Human than she expected. Her care for him grew deep and she brought him close to her, into her ru'at. Being what he is she had to explain what such a thing means. He reassured her though, that he only wanted to be with her. He wanted nothing more than this.

As Pasha's task drew to an end, she brought this Human home to her people. They stood in shock and disgust. Many speaking out of turn against what her heart had chosen. To protect her Human ru'ati, she moved away from her people, leaving them and her father behind as she lived apart. A harsh choice, but one she made with a confidence that is unnatural in one so young as Pasha. With her Human with her, all was well. She was pleased to be with him, and he in turn, was gracious and seemingly happy.

Life went on for some time like this, and as the distance had been drawn between Pasha and her people, so to did the distance grow in trust. Her people began to turn from her, for even if she followed in the steps of her father and became their next Keeper, she could bring nothing to them. This knowledge brought a darkness to her heart and saddened her greatly. And yet, even with this, as she looked upon her Human ru'ati, she felt only joy.

Little by little, Pasha began to see her ru'ati turn from her. His quietness becoming a sullen shadow upon their home. Were she to ask after him, to learn what his heart now desired, she would be given only a quiet smile. A shake of the head, and a claim that he could want for nothing more. As each day passed, he seemed to draw in upon himself, speaking less and less to her, until Pasha began to worry he had grown ill.

Determined to save her ru'ati from what must surely be the tip of Ushnish's fang, Pasha woke early and sought out her people, seeking out the Medicine Woman. The Healer listened to Pasha's plight, and turned her away. She had heard enough to know the truth that Pasha would not see.

Defeated and holding her tail low, Pasha returned to her home to find it empty and cold. Her ru'ati was gone. His things, gone. Their bed was crisply made as though he had never slept there before. Not a trace of the man remained. Nearly convinced she was going mad, she cast about in fear, searching their home for any shred of evidence and thus, found a note that had drifted from her table and lay nearly hidden under the rug.

My dear Pasha, the note read, 'I cannot live among your people and I cannot live with you. Your heart is cold to me and like your people turn their faces away, I see that like them, you will never give me your love. So I leave you your heart, for I cannot keep it warm alone any longer.

Pasha crumpled to the floor, her grief of losing a ru'ati overcoming her. In time, she gathered herself up and she returned then to her father. For of all of her people, surely he was one of the wisest? She asked him why her Human ru'ati would turn away all of the gifts she had given him, why he could not see that she had given him everything. Her father, knowing the stories much like her own.. told her of others who had given their hearts to those not of their own people. Of the hurt and betrayal they all had felt, much like Pasha. She understood then, that her Human had simply never understood the gift of the ru'at, that it was never enough for him.

Seeing her heart broken thus, her people returned to her, drawing close again. And each year as more sandlings came of age to hear such a tale, she shared the story of her own pain, warning the young and old alike of the folly of the Forbidden Lovers.