Fare Tilwin Reath

     Treasa woke laying in a bed covered with a thin sheet. The thick air was hot and humid. Her body was covered with a shiny layer of sweat. The windows were covered by bars and the door was made of a solid metal. Even though she had never seen anything like it in her life it was clear she was in a prison cell. 

     Touching her face she could feel a cloth that was holding her mouth shut. It had been  mended but when she tried to move it the pain made her eyes water. She couldn't remember anything from the point she was kicked across the face till she awoke in this strange room.

     Slowly rolling over in her bed she came face to face with Prod, the leader of the white eyed soldiers who arrived after her mother had been killed. He wore simple clothes now, no armor or weapons as he had been when the had first met. Now she could see the softness of his face and the pain that lay hidden deep within his eyes. 

     "I'm glad you're finally awake. I brought you here to the temple of the Fare Tilwin Reath."

     "The...what?" Treasa could still barely speak and even the few words she could get out were burdened with pain.

     "Try not to speak. We managed to re-set your jaw but it's going to take time to heal properly. Siped did a number on it with that kick, damned fool could have killed you." He gently turned her head once more to make sure everything was okay. Treasa was surprised at how gentle this man was. He took a step back and stood straight up. He was over twice her height and a well built man. His broad shoulders gave him a strange sense of authority. "This is the temple of the Fare Tilwin Reath. Most of the common people just call us Reapers, since they tend to be superstitious and believe we are monsters, not humans. We are a fairly secretive group of soldiers that serve the true heir to the Fatir throne, Tyrour Fatir. Like all nobles he claimed the Fatir title as his surname name. He is the most powerful Fire shifter I have ever met. I have even heard tales of his family being able to communicate with dragons. All Elementalists bow to his power, even those of our enemies. Many disapprove of his political stance though. They feel that he is weak; too willing to give out nations future up to protect this fake peace we're in."

     "Dragons?" Her face hurt badly because of the kick Siped had given her but it was strange to think that someone could possibly communicate with dragons.

     "You will learn about it during your history studies."

     Nodding her head in agreement, Prod continued his speach

     "Like I was saying, Master Tyrour does not want too give over control of Fatir to another nation, he just wants no more war between us and the others. We fight so hard against Wanve, Ental, or even Duzee that our entire lives are spent on the battlefield. He wants our children to finally live without fear of invading soldiers, or some other threat. He wants peace." Treasa didn't know much about this man but she agreed with this approach. Her own mother had died because men decided to fight on the battlefield instead of solving their issues otherwise. 

     "You have been brought here to become one of us. Usually only tested warriors are taken into this program, and especially no children...but you did something back in that field that showed me that you needed to be taught. You will become a Reaper and serve Fatir and Master Tyrour." She knew that what he was saying should have been an honor, but something about how he said it sounded almost like regret and sorrow. "You begin in the morning, regardless of how your injury has healed." 

     Standing, the tall man turned and left the room. As the door closed silence fell over every corner of the room. Her own gentle breathing was the only thing she could hear. Thoughts of her mother ran through her mind, but those moments of her death hadn't been among them. Slowly falling into a deep sleep she pictured the long dark hair of her mother flowing gently in the wind as she wove baskets to sell at the market.