It was a beautiful spring morning, too fine a day to spend indoors. Kiashadra, daughter of Kallendria, granddaughter of Kasedra, Clan of Zenobia, children of Alysian, was supposed to be spending the day with the song weavers, but, being just passed her first century, was still young. “A day like this is too good to spend under the cover of trees, and surely I can practice the songs better under and open sky.” she reasoned to herself as she settled her clothing about her- a D'shone wrap that would alter itself according to her needs, mood, and desire. Thus her clothing assisted her as she snuck from the halls of Shalla – heart of the forest and home to the Elvrit, at least those here on Den'Falla, the New world.
Looking at the Elvrit one might thing they were just frail humans, slight frames with long limbs and delicate features, skin lustrous and the color of fine grain sand. Up close one could see bigger differences, Bright eyes that shown like faceted jewels, in hues ranging from deep emerald, ruby and amethyst, to lighter tones of aquamarine and sparkling diamond. In the shade of the forest their hair was dark of tone, brown, black, deep reds, but in the sun it burst into color, bright red, pink, maroon, green, purple, orange, pale white, golden; as though the sunrise and sunset were captured in the strands.
Kiashadra, like her kin, was slight figured and tallish, her face was triangle in shape and offset her delicate features, a small nose and lips like two petals of a rose. Emerald eyes were framed by a wealth of hair that favored the color red, deep auburn in the forest, in the sunlight it glowed like a copper cloud.
She knew of a meadow not far from the forest's edge, there, barefoot, she sang and danced. Flocks of butterflies joined her, entranced by the magic in the song which also enhanced the light nearby.
Prince Mishka had been traveling for month. He was tired of travel and was pleased to learn that the thinning of the forest meant that they were nearing Liadona and his trip would soon be over; He dd not look forward to the return trip being just as long.
He was tall for a man of Tervold, which meant he was of an average height among the rest of the races of Man. His hair was tightly curled against his head and was a dark nut brown, his eyes were a warm gentle brown and his face was square and determined, though currently weary.
He had set out from Tervold to Liadona at the bequest of his father to seek a trade agreement for the Dashone fabric which was crafted only in Liadona. Depsite attemps from many nations to learn the secret of its production, even the luring of its weavers from Liadona, Dashone fabric produced outside the country contained subtle differences from the actually cloth and lacked entirely the ability to adjust to the wearers need.
When the group came to the clearing where Kiashadra danced they halted at Mishka's signal, for he had spied Kiashadra and immediately forgot his urgent desire to reach Liadona.
He watched her cavorting with the butterflies, the sun drenching her as if it shone for her alone, her dress red and diaphanous like a cloud caressing her as he found himself longing to do. The miles he traveled melted from him, worth it, just for seeing her.
Kiashadra turned in her dance and saw the group on horseback and Mishka astride his great steed, his bags piled behind him, with retainers to either side, her first thought was that he desperately needed a shave. Mishka, Ignoring the polite cough from his valet that they needed to continue on to the capitol and castle, slid with the grace of a man accustomed to doing as he wish, and walked with the gait of a man who has been riding for a prolonged time. He greeted Kiashadra with a slight bow and a smile. As he rose, he caught sight of her coronet of sunstones, and his face colored slightly, for he had greeted her as a commoner, and the cornet marked her as nobility.
"You must be King Errolds Daughter, Allow me to introduce myself, I am Crown Prince Mishka of the kingdom of Tervold"
Kiashadra couldn't help it, this strange human was addressing her as though she were one herself, so she laughed, and the sound of it was like a spring rain falling on the open leaves of a willow.
"Must I? I didn't think you were of Liadona, for you wear such a heavy fur coat, and must be used to colder weather then our clime ever experiences" she stepped close enough to him to brush the coarse fur lightly with her finger tips "particularly not on as fine a day as this.” She then turned a bit and reached for her shoes which she had kicked of while mingling with the butterflies.
"Forgive me," Mishka uttered a bit flustered “but you have not told me your name, if you are not King Errolds daughter, then please, enlighten me on your name, that I may give my regards to your family."
Kiashadra eyed him seriously as she replaced her shoes, then considered him a moment, walking around him in a single circle before stopping in front of him. She then shook her head "You would not believe me."
Mishka growled "Are you this difficult with everyone, or just on those from outside your country?"
A playful grin crossed her features, and Mishka felt as though his heart would stop "I am Kiashadra Ap Zenobia Dau Kasedra ne Kallendria, though I am certain that name means little to you. If you inquire at the castle, your hosts will inform you of whom and what I am. Though you will likely doubt the truth of it, it is more of my name than I tell most, and I am not certain I know why I tell it to you." Kiashadra then turned from him and faded into the forest, leaving Mishka no choice but to remount, and continue on to the castle.