It was not a very large planet - in fact, by the intergalactic standards of the united planets and planetoids, it was a size 'titchy'. With three moons it had lively seas and treacherous shores, the tides unequal across the globe. The people of that world therefore mostly inhabited the inland areas, staying away from the coast. The greatest cities and kingdoms were those which made their homes in the mountains, the mightiest trade routes were those of mounts and firm roads. Progress had been made in breeding fine steeds, in establishing fine roads and industry that allowed for long land travel - but none was done on water. Though there were some water-dwelling intelligent races, they established more communities amongst their individual ones. And only in the cave systems of the water, that had some surfacing on land, was where the two worlds mixed.Solo. Set after How to Hire a Villain. Contains mature language.
This planet was harsh, but it was filled with life. In the last census of the largest continent, G'tev, there were two hundred and ninety three species known. This did not include the many other underwater races that the land-walking of G'tev had perhaps only heard rumours of. Neither did it speak of the possible others that existed on the other large continent, Mra-a, which could only be accessed by the few who flew. That was estimated to bare a further fifty species at least. Each race trying to find its niche, each separate people trying to keep their culture alive. In some ways it was madness, this tiny planet, in other ways it was murder.
For instance, no one ever spoke of the races who appeared one day ... And in months or years were gone again. No one ever mentioned them. As soon as they were gone, they were written from the history books. The confusion they brought at their sudden vanishing, the majority with no reasoning other than 'magic'. Any influences they had in their short lives were attributed to others, and though there was a secret knowledge that everyone had about these forgotten people, no one ever spoke about it. Because the priests ruled it shouldn't be. That the gods would be upset.
And their half children? Those that had been birthed by a mortal mother yet displayed the most incredibly feats of magic? They were either ignorant or arrogant, or both. The rare one who seemed to show promise as a future leader often would be found later in life drifiting through the uninhabited wilds, professing some madness about a man called ...
There was one such half child once. Her name was Ventrua. And it was said that she had been at the start full of promise. Born to be a queen, her people, the Hitarik, said. They hoped she would marry their king and rule their small kingdom that also had power over the Smari, the Marshkin and the Bin. But one day Ventrua left her home and walked away. Right after dinner, right in the dullness of dusk. She was not seen again, even after many passionate searches, until one morning when she came to the young prince, born of a woman who was not her. Bending down she told the boy that she knew the truth, that there was not many, many gods but one, and his name was -