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>yiipuun volunteer corps
I was born nearly a decade after the war with Pahma [Burma] ended. It was the time of Naraysuan the "Black Lord" and his brother, Aegartohtsaroht the "White Lord" - their stories of how our independence was achieved were told, retold, reenacted again and again. One monarch peerless in warring, another in foreign relations (and mercenaries). National pride was high, but not for long. The white lord’s child was without ability to rule and was executed after a year. It was up to a bastard - who spent most of his years a monk - to lead the country. Monarch Xongtum turned out all right, anyhow.
… now that I am looking back, I can see things have not changed much in the monarchy: Great monarchs with long reigns, followed by successors lacking their skills, their reign abruptly short. What was the saying, again? 'In the game of thrones, you win or you die.' … or something of sort? It feels more accurate than I originally thought.
After one final glance at the ever-still night sky, I take a lengthy breath to fill my chest with the soothing cool air. It’s—
>someone is approaching the residence…
I executed many infants in service of this family. I grew accustomed to their insistence on following and observing me - it was not long before ignoring them became as a task as ordinary as breathing.
There is no one to ignore at the moment.
The source of this behavior soon presents herself: an usually tall woman, her hair lengthy and adorned with a flower of crimson petals. A sabai wraps around her, green as banana leaves and freely swirling without wind. Much of her upper body is covered by some sort of fabric dark green in color - oddly leaving one shoulder bare and another not. Her skirt is ankle length but clings onto the skin rather tightly. There is a pleasantly sweet scent of banana and milk which accompanies her.
