Chapter 1
The land was blanketed by a thin layer of mist, the full moon illuminating the fog and casting the forest in an eerie light. Tall and towering, the tree’s shadows cast a tangled web of darkness through the fog. They were clawing at the sky with their bare branches, reaching for the last bit of light from the moon as a heavy cloud drifted across.
The land went from silver to black.
The forest was nearly silent, save for the soft wind as it passed through the trees’ branches, making a sinister crackle. The soft groaning as the wide trunks moved with the wind wasn’t a welcoming sound either. The wind picked up and a powerful gust blew through the woods, sending the trees into chaos as they battered their branches against each other. The hollow wailing of the wind only added to her hammering heart.
Slowly the moon returned, yet there were no more trees. The forest was gone. It was replaced with powerful waves crashing into a rocky cliff; the water was dark, aside from the rippled reflection of the moon. It was as if there was no end to the ocean, it seemed to blend into the starry sky at the horizon.
She looked up at the moon as another wave crashed into the cliff. Some said they saw the faces of the gods on the moon, others said they saw an animal. She didn’t know what she saw. Every time it was different.
Pulling her eyes away from the moon she looked at the water again, just as the cliff vanished beneath her feet.
Jaro’s eyes snapped open and a shiver ran down her spine. The dream had been haunting her for years; sometimes there wasn’t a moon, sometimes it was complete darkness. Just sounds. Other times it was in the middle of the day, but it always started with her in a forest and ended with her falling into the ocean. No matter how many times she dreamt it, she always found it unsettling.
She swallowed and stared at the ceiling. Tomorrow she was to join her father and brothers for her first ka’tsohl cerlach. It was a tradition for the kin of Kletchar, and only the kin of Kletchar, to join together on the fiftieth day of spring. Before it was to welcome the next generation of melkrix, but there hadn’t been a melkrix for over three hundred years; now it was simply a time to honor Kletchar and those that had come after him.
Kletchar was the first god, the father of the north. It was said the Kletchar families were descendants of him, and the god had gifted three mortal women with sons who would inherit his power. They turned into the Kletchar’Crah, Kletchar’Rek, and Kletchar’Tsen families, blessed by the celestial wife of Kletchar, Altaya, to only have sons for the rest of time.
Jaro was the first daughter born into the Kletchar’Tsen family.
Jaro was the first daughter born to any of the Kletchar families.
Her father said it was the gods' gift, to allow him to have the first daughter born in Kletchar’s line, he said it was an honor that he could have a strong and powerful daughter, like the goddess Altaya. He trained her to fight and hunt, like her brothers, and though she wasn’t as good with a sword or bow, she was the most skilled of her siblings with a spear, and she was the youngest. Even Lysias, her twin brother, was several minutes older.
Her father was Racknare Kletchar’Tsen, the oldest son of Murak and the husband of Rydia T’Schanta. He had a younger brother, Janick, and he, like many men, had adapted to the southern belief that women were weaker and lesser than men, and constantly put Jaro down. He said that she was a curse and that the Kletchar’Tsen family had angered the gods and were thus cursed to only have daughters from now on. Though it was nonsense, it still got to her. What could her family have done to anger the gods?
Her brother’s snore pulled her out of her thoughts and she looked over. Lysias and Jaro were twins, and Lysias looked almost identical to her. When they were younger, they liked to pretend to be the other twin to annoy the villagers, as even their voices had been the same then. Now, Lysias was taller and his hair was always cut short, unlike Jaro’s, which easily went past her shoulder blades, and that’s when it was still dry and wavy. The only things they still shared were their mother’s green eyes, hair color, and the freckles that all their siblings inherited from their father. Sighing, she turned over and gazed out the window.
Even though it was mid-spring and the grass was fresh and green with colorful flowers sprouting, there was still snow piled beneath the trees and shadows of the houses in the village. The north was always cold, and even the summer was chilly, aside from the rare warm day.
The sun was just rising in the east, bathing the rivers beyond her village in a golden light, the first few fishermen were throwing out their lines and nets. It had only been a week since the waters had thawed and the rivers were especially wild.
“Jaro, Lysias, it’s time for breakfast.” Her mother’s call distracted Jaro and she heard a tired moan from her brother, who rolled over and buried his face in his pillow.
Their room was the largest in the upper level in the house, and as there wasn’t a sixth room, Jaro and Lysias had to share it, she got the side with the window, and he got the side closest to the door. Asgar, her second oldest brother, who was twenty years, was in the room to their right, Kilian, who was eighteen on the left. Their parents and oldest brother, Valek, lived on the lower floor.
“Up!” her mother stormed into the room and tore off Lysias’s blanket before rushing to her bed and doing the same.
The cold crisp air hit her like a wave and she curled up, shivering, “Trexah, honestly. It’s not that cold.” Her mother sighed, snug in her dress and furs.
“I want you both dressed and down in five minutes” and with that, their mother was out of the room.
Though their mother was the shortest in the family, she had a commanding presence. Even Janick, her uncle, made sure to listen to her; Jaro believed that had more to do with her mother’s cooking skill. Her father had told Jaro a story that her mother had threatened to let uncle Janick starve whenever he visited her if he disrespected her one more time. Apparently, the threat had worked.
After rubbing her arms for a little warmth, she pushed herself out of bed and quickly put on her clothes. Unlike most women, including her mother, Jaro preferred a tunic over a dress. She didn’t really have curves to flaunt anyway, so why bother? Grabbing a leather strip, she started loosely braiding her dark brown hair to keep it out of her face. Later she would fix it.
Jaro stepped off the stairs and entered the main part of the house just as she finished braiding. The large room consisted of a large hearth, with tapestries and furs decorating the walls and a large table with benches and chairs for gatherings. Everyone besides Lysias was already sitting at the table and a cozy fire was crackling in the hearth.
Kilian and Asgar gave her curt nods when she came down. They, like their father, were tall and muscular with thick red hair, light golden-brown eyes, and, of course, freckles. Her parents gave her warm smiles as she sat and Valek stole another piece of cheese while everyone was looking away.
Valek was twenty-three, seven years older than Jaro, and their father’s heir. The village they lived in would be Valek’s to protect and lead when their father died. The role of a Kletchar, the role of every leading family in the four clans, was to protect and lead. The people that lived in their village paid a tithe of food, cloth, copper coins, or whatever else they could pay with; one of the few helpful traditions from the south. Her father was generous with his village, if the people could not pay, they could not pay. Some years were better than others.
Unlike her and her other siblings, Valek was a perfect mix of both parents; freckles, brownish red hair, light brown-green eyes, and a slim muscular build. Girls had been fawning over him since she could remember, even some merchants from the south said he could be mistaken for a southern prince. But princes didn’t exist in the north, kingdoms didn’t exist either, just clans and villages.
All three Kletchar families belonged to the Kletchar Clan, the most powerful clan in the north, thanks to the god’s blood that ran through their veins. Though many believed the blood to have thinned out, as the last Melkrix had died three hundred years ago. Jaro wondered if there could be truth to that. The gods had gifted the Kletchars to only have sons, and here she was. A daughter.
Tomorrow all the Kletchar families would know about her. Her father said they would accept her, though she doubted that. Thanks to the southern influence on the north, her uncle wasn’t the only man who had something against women. She had no idea what was coming for her. Would they want to kill her? Would they kick her out of the clan? Out of the north?
She shivered at the thought.
Summer 
Day Weather: 
Brimstone
