Introduction: Ayira

    Ayira felt the sweaty bodies of the eager crowd now closing in on her. She originally settled for standing on the outskirts of all the commotion but realized that at a paltry 5 feet, 4 inches she would never actually get to see the hanging. She felt her chest tighten as she began to inch closer to the front of the crowd.  She could barely watch a man die, much less a boy of just fifteen, but Evren had insisted on her attendance. The crowd pulsated with an eagerness that was both stifling and unnerving.  Everywhere she looked eyes glowed with an anticipation that was certainly not seeking this boy's release, his safety.  She knew that this boy was a traitor to his people, and that these people had a right to be angry, a right to see justice carried out, but that didn’t stop her hands from sweating, her throat from becoming coarser than the sand she now walked on. She tried to avoid the hungry stares of those around her as she continued to press through the heaving crowd in hopes of finding Evren.

    As she finally approached the front of the crowd, she started to worry that she might not find him.  Off to her right she saw a section of Justice Square designed specifically for those of noble birth.  The women, in their own section, wore glossy silk robes and gold earrings.  They seemed unaffected by the day’s heat as they chatted about the upcoming event. Their expressions, less passionate than the crowd’s, flitted between affected interest and genuine concern that the crowd, in all their filth, might spill over into their part of the square. She assumed that the men, whom she could now see just to the right of their female counterparts, were likely talking about politics.  Her uncle, King Osahar, however, was focused squarely on the spot where the boy would receive his sentence.  Occasionally, a servant would approach with water, or someone would try to engage him in conversation, but he waved off these intrusions with an intensity that eventually dissuaded anyone else from trying.  His robe flowed over him like a silken river between shores of ornate gold embroidery; his dark smooth skin seemed only to magnify this effect.

    What if Evren were the one being hanged?  The thought caused her to shudder, earning her a disapproving look from the squat man on her right.  She took some comfort in the fact that she would have gotten that look regardless of what she did. Virhatu was a proud city and a city that prided itself most on keeping tradition.  Her chosen ensemble clearly violated these unwritten rules.  Unlike her older female counterparts, she was wearing a pair of loose white pants with, a now drenched, royal blue short sleeved shirt. Even though it was becoming more common for younger women to wear pants, it was still a luxury that most didn't have since most households would never allow their daughters out of the house in such an outfit. She knew that she was lucky and unique in this aspect since her father was not only the brother of the King but also sat on the King's High Council, an honor reserved only for the most respected members of the community. To the dismay of both her father and her uncle, however, she tended to lean towards the more progressive trends in Virhatu, but thinking it was only a stage, they decided to leave it alone in order to avoid fomenting her already rebellious nature. Ayira knew better than to push too hard though, she was still expected to uphold her family's honor. 

  "Ayira!"  She turned around as someone tapped her right shoulder.  It was Evren.

  "Where were you?  I've been looking everywhere."  She leaned to her left slightly to allow Evren some space to move forward.  He only smiled at her admonishment, aware of the fact that she was more upset about the fact that he didn't get to spend as much time with her anymore.  She couldn't really remember when it happened, but he had developed an athletic build with the height to match.  Women loved him and even though she had never thought of him in that particular way she always felt a bit irritable whenever he showed up late. She suddenly felt embarrassed by her clothing.