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The Story of Lonma Hasan
On the way to the Vale

It was an empty looking place, with a pile of large rocks that looked to be the remains of some building, on one side of the path, and a field that looked like it had been burnt out a couple generations ago, pale yellow grass struggling through the fall season with the remains to dead tree stumps sprinkled here and there.  At one point, it must have been a lovely glade, or perhaps an entire forest.  Now it was grassland.  And the furre walking down the dusty trail alongside it was in no mood to appreciate the paling grass.
Walking with a brisk pace, the feline morph's lithe figure made quick progress down the trail.  He wasn't even sure where it went, but he was hoping there would be a town or village soon.  The pack on his back hung loosely, his supplies having become scant again.  He pauses briefly, pushing back his blue hair out of his eyes, which were a darker blue.  His crème colored fur shifted in the light wind that blew as his gaze traveled warily over that pile of large rocks.  He didn't like this setup… and his nose picked up the scent of blood.  Something had died here in the last couple days, and the feline didn't want to hang around long enough to find out what killed it.
Unfortunately, the road he was on had a bend in it that went behind some of those rocks.  If he was going to make an ambush, that's where he'd put it.  His instincts were against going through, but he was not familiar enough with the area to try going around.  He had too few supplies to risk getting lost out here.  So he proceeded forward with a good deal of caution.
Caution that served him well, for he heard the bow stretch before the arrow was loosed, and he neatly side-stepped out of its flight.  It flew past his head, planting itself harmlessly into the ground.  The feline looked up at the fox holding the bow.  He was laughing, and another's laughter added to it from behind a rock farther up the road.  "Looks like your shot at the record isn't going to happen this time, Locke."  The fox, Locke, laughed again and shouted back down.  "It's a shame, too.  I already had three without missing."  He dropped the bow and hopped down from his perch on the rock.  "Well, what should try next, Rollen?"
A burly equine morph stepped out from behind his own rock, revealing to the feline the owner of the other voice he'd heard.  He stood there, cracking his knuckles, watching the feline intently.  "So," Rollen began.  "Who might you be, sir?"  His associate let loose with a dry chuckle, moving closer to the feline, who shrugs his shoulders, letting his pack drop lightly to the ground.  "Why do you want to know?"  The feline responds.
Rollen flicked his horse tail and began to advance on the feline.  "No big reason… I just like to know the names of the people we kill…."  For a furre with an herbivore for an ancestor, he managed a very predatory look.  The feline, however, appeared to be un-phased.  He simply raised his paws, palms turned up.  "I have no money for you to steal from me."
"That so?"  Rollen pointed at the sack on the feline's belt.  "I think your purse looks plenty full to me."  The feline sighed, reaching down to take the sack off of his belt, then tossing it to the equine.  Rollen grinned greedily as he opened up the sack and peered inside, but his face soon changed to one of disgust.  "What the hell is this?"  He demands as he throws the sack down, causing the rice to spill out on to the road.
The feline sighs heavily, seeing his lunch scattered on the ground.  "Rice… you eat it…. if it hasn't been thrown on the ground, that is."  Rollen gives him a sharp look, anger creeping into his eyes.  The fox edges closer, pulling a small dagger out of the sheath at his belt.  "I think he's holding out on us, boss."
"So do I!"  The third bandit had been creeping around behind the feline, not being terribly silent about it, but believing his two comrades would keep the furre distracted enough to not notice him.  Unfortunately for him… he was wrong.  His head long leap at the feline with his own dagger drawn rewarded the second fox with a quick trip to the ground, lying on his back, trying to get his breath back.
With a snarl, Locke dashed in, trying to slash at the feline, but being a bit more careful about it after seeing the fluid way this feline had spun out of the way of his companion's sneak attack.  He had no desire to wind up on his back, too, so he stayed back enough for the dagger to give him the advantage of reach.  However, the feline stepped back quickly to avoid Locke's first slash, and when Locke moved with him to keep him in range, he quickly stepped back in, spinning around the arm that extended in a thrust.  His arms swept around and over the poor foxes arm, and with a sharp blow from his elbow, broke the wrist, the cracking clearly audible.  Locke's dagger dropped from his useless hand as he knelt down to cradle it.
Then Rollen was upon him, and the other fox had managed to get up as well.  The feline took several steps back, giving him some room and putting both of them in front of him… and ended up barely dodging the sword that Rollen had drawn.  The feline's mouth becomes set, and he reaches behind him, pulling out… a bo-staff.  The two bandits pause at the sudden appearance of the large weapon, both clearly curious about where it came from.  The feline had not been wearing it on his back, nor walking with it in his hand.  It had come out of thin air, as far as they could tell.
When the fox took a step back, Rollen's gaze slid to his side to fix the fox with a glare.  "Where are you going?!  It's just a wooden stick!"  Rollen brandishes his sword, and points to the fox's dagger.  "Just cut the stupid thing to pieces."  With that, he gives the fox a rough shove forward, then follows in quickly himself.
The rest of the battle is short.  Off balance and unsure of himself now, the fox never even attempted to avoid or block the feline's first swing.  The loud crack as it hit his head was followed by the dull thud of his body falling once more to the ground.  Rollen rushed in at this point, seeing the feline's guard open after his swing, but was surprised when the feline planted the end of the staff into the ground, using it as leverage to leap to the side and behind Rollen as he flung himself forward.  Rollen cried out in pain as the foot came down on the back of his calf, breaking the bone.
The feline dismally observed the three furres on the ground, one knocked out, the other two nursing their broken bones.  Satisfied that they would bother him no longer, the bo-staff vanishes in a quiver of air and a brief glimpse of….. nothing.  A Blackness deeper than midnight.  As he leans over to pick his pack up once more, his ears stand up, hearing Rollen speaking through gritted teeth.  "Who are you, devil?"  The feline stands, settling the pack once more on his shoulders.
"No devil… just a monk."  The feline says as he starts to walk away once more down the road.  "The name… is Lonma Hasan.  You would do well to remember it… and to find another line of work."  With that, Lonma left the bandits behind, and all Rollen could do about it was wonder at the fact that the monk had let them live at all…

The trouble with magic

Night fell across the mostly barren land, and the feline walking along the road was becoming resigned to the fact that he'd be sleeping on the ground again.  Lonma was starting to get distinctly worried over the state of his supplies.  He'd been able to replenish his water from a stream he'd found.  The water was quite pure and sweet.  He figured the source had to be fairly close by.  But his food was getting alarmingly low, especially since this area was not presenting much to be foraged.  His stomach was already starting to complain about a few too many berries, and not enough bread.
A bit of a glimmer farther up the road caused him to pause.  Looking harder, he was able to discern that some one was camped off to the side, and that they had a small fire going.  Slightly hesitant after his earlier ordeal that day, he did not immediately approach the campsite, but observed from the darkened road.  A fox was moving about the area, organizing supplies, shifting whatever was in the pot hanging over the fire.  Lonma's nose picked up the scent of a well seasoned stew cooking, and it made his mouth water.  He had not had the supplies necessary for a real stew for nearly a week, and he'd certainly eaten nothing better during the time, either.  The fox was wearing some strange cape over a plain, blue tunic.  As the firelight caught it, Lonma thought that he saw silver writing embroidered on the cape.
Seeing nothing else worth noting, Lonma moved cautiously towards the camp.  His movement was kept from the fox's notice until the feline was within range of the light from the small fire.  The fox started a bit at his unexpected visitor, but a smile quickly formed as he came over, his hand extended.  "Well, fellow traveler, you gave me a start there.  You must move pretty quietly."  Lonma didn't hesitate to clasp his hand in the fox's, already starting to like him.  He seemed to have a personality that radiated friendship and the love of having a good time.  As they shook hands, Lonma was startled to notice how young the fox looked.  He guessed the guy couldn't be more than 16 years old, and he really wanted to say he was younger.  "I'm Akio," the fox continued, oblivious to Lonma's inner thoughts.  "What's your name?"
"Lonma," he said as they finished the handshake.  "Lonma Hasan, and it's a pleasure to meet you, Akio.  Tell me, what brings you out here?  If I may ask…"  Akio simply waved a paw nonchalantly.  Moving back over to the fire to stir the pot again, he motioned for Lonma to have a seat.
"I'm on a journey to learn more about magic."  With a flick of his wrist, the fire leaped up to three times its previous height, then immediately died back down.  Lonma rubbed his temple a little, beginning to feel a dull throb.  "I've got a fascination for it, as well as a little knack."  The fox turned his eyes back in the general direction Lonma had come from.  "Folks around here…. don't seem to like that."  Lonma noticed the odd look, and turned his head that direction as well.  He remembered the last town well enough.  The people had been slightly wary of him, as an outsider, but they had still been decently courteous to him.
"I'm not sure I know what you mean."  Lonma turned back around to face Akio.  "Don't their priests use magic for their healing spells?"
Akio grimaced at Lonma, shaking his head.  "The priests do use magic… and they're the only ones allowed to.  Used any other way, or by anyone who refuses to join their order, are grounds for getting kicked out of town…"  He spread his hands out, encompassing his current, little campsite.  "Which is why you find me out here, nearly two days ahead of my travel plans.  I'd thought to stop for a while in the last town, but they wouldn't have me."
Now it was Lonma's turn to grimace.  He was normally accepted, being a simple monk from a Shoa-Lin monastery, but he'd been witness to plenty of prejudices.  "I'm sorry to hear that… I hope it hasn't been that way for you in most other places."  His nose twitched as the aroma coming from the pot was even better closer to it.  "Uh… hey, Akio.  I hate to impose… but your stew smells wonderful.  I haven't had anything decent to eat in a while…"  His voice trails off as a thought suddenly hits him.  A quick look around reveals no wagon, or horses, or even a large sack to carry things in.  "Akio…. how did you get all of the way out here… with enough stuff to last like this?"
A large grin plastered itself on Akio's face, and he chuckled with a mysterious air.  Twirling the cape he wore around a bit, he asks, "Didn't I just say that I use magic?"  With that, he reaches into his cape…. literally reaches in to his cape, and pulls a handful of salt out.  "I can put anything I need in here.  And always get it back out again."  His grin goes a bit wistful.  "That is… provided I remember what it is I put in here in the first place."  Akio scooted a bit closer and started to make a few signs in Lonma's direction.  "Here, I'll clean you up a bit…"
Lonma's hands go up too late, and the slight buzz in his head is set off by a few small fireworks going off behind his eyes.  He grips his head and accidentally lets out a low growl at the pain.  Akio's eyes widen a bit at the feline's reaction.  "Hey, are you okay?  It's just a cleaning spell…"  His words die off, and his mouth sets itself in a firm line.  "Hmm… and you don't look very clean, either."
Lonma shook his head repeatedly, taking a few deep breaths to get his breathing back to normal.  "Magic… doesn't work well on me.  I've been told that I have… a resistance to it."  He gingerly rubbed his forehead, brushing his blue hair back.  "But it does tend to give me a rather nasty headache…"
Akio's face fell, aghast at what he'd done.  He apologized profusely, trying to offer various remedies for it… and stopping at each point he said the word, "spell."  After a moments pause, he finally settled on offering to share his meal with Lonma, that being the only helpful thing he could think of that wouldn't involve more magic.  "I'm curious, though," he said as he was putting the stew into bowls.  Sitting down next to Lonma, he handed him one of the bowls, which Lonma sniffed at appreciatively.  "What about… my cape?  I mean, it's magical too… Does it bug you?"
Lonma took a taste of the soup and smiled.  "This is really good, Akio.  Thank you."  He bows from his sitting position, some how managing not to look silly while doing it.  "And to answer your question, not really.  I get a light buzz when it's near me, but nothing too bad.  Mostly it's just spells actually used on me directly."  With another smile, he goes back to making quick work of the stew.
"Hunh…."  Akio put his arms behind his head, stroking one of his fox ears idly.  "Well, that's certainly interesting…. but, doesn't it make it hard for you to get healed?  What happens when you get sick?  Injured?  My sister would always heal me with her magic, before I learned to do it myself…."  His gaze traveled up to the stars overhead.  "Been a while, sis…"  Lonma didn't think his fox friend had really meant to say that aloud, and did not inquire about it.
Instead, he answered Akio's questions.  "Well, it's really hard.  I usually have a choice of getting a small amount of healing at the price of a large headache… or I just have to heal the old fashioned way.  Naturally."  His eyes joined Akio's in their search of the stars overhead.  "So," he began.  "Ever heard of a girl called Kiyoni Izumi?"
Akio turned his head to look at the feline, and thought there was something strange about the look in his eye.  "No… not that I can think of.  Who is she?"
Lonma's gaze fell back down to ground.  "My sister."
Akio's eyes became very wide.  "Your sister has a different last name?  Is she married?"
"Long story…."
"Love to hear it some time."
"Maybe…."
Akio laid down on the ground, directing his gaze once more to the sky.  The fire, now forgotten, was slowly dying down.  "So… where is she?"  Akio's gaze turned back towards Lonma when as he moved.  He sat cross-legged, and his head was hanging down, his look one of no emotion… and a terrible sadness at the same time.  Akio guessed the answer before Lonma confirmed it.
"She's dead."
Akio got himself up from the ground again.  He put his hand on the shoulder of this odd feline.  A strange blankness was creeping into Lonma's whole appearance, and he started to shake slightly.  The blankness… was rage.  An anger that, frankly, terrified the fox.  "What…. happened?"
Lonma's teeth gritted as he thought bitterly of that day once more.  "She was killed, in a duel.  And I… am going to find her killer."  After that he became quiet, his thoughts deep, and focused.  Akio, afraid to disturb him, laid out some blankets for him before wrapping himself up in his own.  Watching the visage of the trembling feline, his face lit strangely by the dying fire, Akio pitied the furre that had killed Lonma's sister.  With a sigh and a silent prayer to the elements, Akio allowed himself to drift off to sleep.  The last thing he was aware of was the sound of Lonma covering himself in the blankets across from him.

Entering the Vale

In the morning, Lonma and Akio parted ways.  Lonma was still bound for where ever the trail led, hoping to come upon a town soon.  Akio pointed off to the southwest, along a chain of mountains, saying, "There are dragons living up in those mountains, or so I've heard.  I'll be trying to learn some more magic from them, if I can."  With each furre wishing the other a safe journey, they set off in their separate directions.
Trudging once more down the dirt path, Lonma allowed himself to observe the area a bit more, and to try to enjoy it.  The tall, pale grass moved in waves as light breezes passed through it.  The mountains rose up to the sky, providing a majestic background to the rolling fields.  But Lonma's eyes simply turned back to the path, and the task at hand.  He'd been completely unsuccessful at finding out anything about the person who had killed his sister.
Once more, his mind flashed back to that time, not too long ago… and his eyes hardened with rage.  Anger at the person who killed his sister.  Anger at himself for not being able to save her.  In his mind he once again saw himself holding his sister's body to his own as her life blood ran out from the two sword wounds in her side.  So weak already, all she had said was, "Lonma… you came… I'm sorry…"  Then he watched her eyes close, and her breath stop.  He had not cried then.  He had not cried yet.  He wanted to, though.  Desperately needing that release from the pain.
Instead his paced quickened, and for a while he ran… running from those terrible memories.  But he could not escape so easily, and eventually his feet slowed back to a walk.  Another gust of wind brought with it a cool, soothing scent with it, and Lonma turned his gaze on the interesting forest that the wind had come from.  It seemed out of place, out in the middle of these wasted fields, and seeming to run right up to the side of the mountains.
Covering his eyes from the sun, Lonma peered intently, but could not see any sign of the friendly fox he had met last night.  He did spot a stream, and thought it to be the one he had filled his water bag from yesterday.  Enticed by its look, and having a faint curiosity to see if he might truly find the stream's source, he sets out across the fields towards the forest, leaving the path behind.

It took Lonma a couple of days to travel all the way to the forest he had seen.  The flat area and the mountains had served to make him mistake the actual distance he would have to travel to get to it.  By the time he finally reached the first of the trees, he'd managed to wear himself out.  Tightening the straps of his pack, now lighter than ever, he stepped lightly into the forest.  His eyes and ears were alert to all of the sights and sounds of the woods, being cautious in this new environment.  The trees did provide plenty of places to hide….
After going in far enough that he could not see the fields anymore, Lonma started to notice other furres, going about lifestyles typical to a small town, and he began to see the houses and such where they were staying.  It looked like a pleasant village had been formed in the quite of the trees.  Several people who noticed him gave him wary looks, for he was a stranger in their area, but none asked him to leave, and most would give him a polite, "Hello."  He continued on, exploring… and one path in particular caught his attention.
There was nothing definably different with it from the others around it, but something seemed to draw Lonma towards it… beckoned for him to follow it.  Not knowing where anything was, Lonma followed this instinct, actually beginning to enjoy the quiet coolness of the glade.  The water seemed to be everywhere, and as he crossed a bridge going over it, he wondered again about finding the source of the stream he had followed here.  With the picturesque setting all about him, even this feline with dark thoughts was beginning to relax a bit.  It seemed safe, and warm.  He almost felt like some one was holding him, giving him a reassuring hug.
And then, all at once, he was in an area with a platform, the open sky overhead, water all around…. and a large crystal rising out of the far end of the platform.  It looked like this was used as a meeting place, for several sitting pillows were arranged around a trio of seats.  But the crystal…. with a few short trees and lovely bushes around it… totally captured Lonma's attention.  It appeared to be a huge quartz crystal, and he had no idea how something like it could have formed.  It's sides were smoothed to perfection, and Lonma's eyes may have been playing tricks on him, but he would have sworn that it glowed faintly with some inner light, although that was hard to tell in the broad daylight.
So engrossed with studying this strange feature of the platform was Lonma, that he had come forward several steps closer without noticing the platform's other occupants.  A lovely furre with deep, black fur and blood red hair sat on one of the pillows nearest the crystal, and in her lap was a small, newborn child.  But the remarkable thing about her was the pair of black, angelic wings that rose from her back.  Lonma took a seat, watching the little one reaching out in an uncoordinated manner for the lady's hair.  The furre with wings was totally caught up in the antics of the baby, a soft…. motherly smile, forming on her lips.  Apparently, she had not noticed Lonma's arrival.  Perhaps she was used to people coming and going while she was here.
As Lonma watched, the baby gave a large yawn and settled down, looking extremely sleepy.  The lady's smile grew at this, as she leaned down, placing a soft kiss on the newborn's forehead.  Lonma frowned, though…. because there was something wrong with the smile.  It wasn't complete.  It was genuine looking, and was warm and not threatening…. but it didn't make it to her eyes.  In her eyes he saw a pain… a sorrow.  He didn't really understand it, but something about that look… made her look like she did not know how to be happy anymore.  Lonma looked down at the newborn once more, which had snuggled itself up against the lady, and he felt his throat constrict.  He wondered if his sister had looked like that…..
The first tear took a while to build up and then work its way slowly down the fur of his cheek.  Then another one made a similar track on his other cheek.  Then two went down on either side about the same time.  Then another, and another.  Spilling out of him, falling down the sides of his face as he looked at this little girl who slept peacefully in the arms of some one who had her own haunted look… Flashes of his sister and him together flitted through his mind.  The happy time when they met up, and just knew that they were brother and sister.  Another of her with him in their room, not really living a great lifestyle, but happy to be together, and getting into a pillow fight.  He saw her dancing in the middle of the floor, moving to music only she could hear.  He saw them sparring, testing each other's blade and reflexes.  The pictures ran through his head to their ultimate conclusion, and he closed his eyes, the tears running freely now.