Daughter of the Sword

Kyran: The Broken Warrior looking for peace. Indie Private and Selective RP blog. Original Character from The Arcana: A Mystic Romance

[fiddauthor]

HAVING OCS BUT NO ARTISTIC ABILITIES STARTER PACK:

pinterest

moodboards

dollmaker games

trying to draw them but failing and crying

8tracks or spotify playlists

“ask me about my ocs” “tell me abt your ocs!!!” “wait no”

___suggestions blogs

[akardlanya]

@secndroute

They had stopped not far from the edge of the forest, where the plains started to be scattered with trees and food would change from bigger game and grain to fruits and nuts and small prey, which for Kyran meant a change from roasted meats to stews and she welcomed the change.

Once camp was set, the tall woman had unsaddled her horse and taken all the load off her, and started to brush through her thick winter coat meticulously. After a long day of travelling, this was one of their favorite things to do. Of course Evike enjoyed the attention, but the brushing and taking care of her good steed was almost like a meditative state for the woman as well, and a moment of deep connection with her mount. They’d been together for years now, they understood each  other well, and Kyran would never neglect her companion, no matter how tired the warrior was herself.

[annethearcher-deactivated202004]

Rider

[akardlanya]

loyalservants‌:

                                        𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒,, that was the word her father had referred to when it came to the women of Kyran’s people. There were no men and he wondered why and how can a society function without them ? The Daughters have proved themselves to be  strong  and  valiant  without Men and among fellow women, she was eased into comfort. Despite how different they were, they were still people and the magic and wisdom Tamara carried with her, she found herself beloved by the people. Her only company were the books from the grand library or her aunt whom taught her magic… now she had the grass, the skies, the wind and of course, the Kardjaii. 

                                        The blanket fell off her completely and the  COLD  breeze hit her like a wave of  chilly  waters that Tamara would soak her feet into at times when she felt too hot in the summer. Gentle breathing echoed as she pressed her forehead against Kyran’s, regular brown eyes staring deeply into emerald ones that she loved so much. They looked more  precious  than the stones that she would wear around her neck but yet she was stronger than any  STEEL  the blacksmiths could forge.    ❝ It’s a sight only for you, Kyran. No one else can see this. ❞

                                        At Kyran’s remark, Tamara pulled her head away, chuckling  coyly  as if she was as  INNOCENT  as she was when she first came to travel with her tribeswomen. Half-lidded eyes, she whispered as she caressed Kyran’s cheek,   ❝ I don’t think I will, you may just have to  perish , my love. It’s cruel but seeing you in battle leaves me  THIRSTING  for you, the way you swing your sword… ah, sends me shivers. ❞ 

Riding her like this, Tamara looked like the goddess herself, naked and powerful, beautiful, radiant as only she could be. Kyran knew she could never love anyone else after Tamara, not even if she was cast aside one day by the beauty that was her wife. 

The soft people of Karnassos that hid and pretended that they knew everything, the people who had scoffed and spit at the Kardjaii for generations, had somehow ended up agreeing to a marriage between their jewel and the daughter of the chief. Kyran would never stop being grateful to her mother for the union. 

“I suppose I have to make my claim then.” The young warrior smirked up at her woman, and let her fingers sink deeper into the skin before she dragged her lover down for another passionate kiss. “If you are so thirsty, perhaps you ought to drink as well.”

[akardlanya]

loyalservants‌:

                                     𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 was the  WONDER  that shone in her eyes when she had first emerged out of her  palace . A princess of Karnassos whom was born in the palace, doomed to live the rest of her life behind the  walls  of her stronghold, face hidden away from the people she was meant to serve. To wander the world, she had the company of books and maps, when their words had gone dry from her constant reading, the Duchess had taught her magic to play upon. So whilst her older sisters had taken a liking to combat by arms, Tamara’s fighting was more like  DANCING  with the lights of her magic shining in her hands. 

                                    When she had traveled with Kyran, all things had turned Tamara curious and she was like a little fawn of a doe and stag, curious yet so wary of the world. She would  PRANCE  and play in the fields, rolling around the dandelions with  melodic  laughter ringing in the air as she remained on her back, brown eyes looking to the sky above. The difference between their two cultures clashed so but then they managed to meet in the middle and learn. 

                            And Tamara learned.

                                    Letting out a  GENTLE  hum that was muffled by their lips, Tamara found herself on Kyran’s lap by her guidance, the blanket slipping off her shoulder as the cool  BREEZE  of the night blew. Parting, for she was not as  resilient  as the Kardjaii was enduring, she offered the  warmest  smile as she caressed Kyran’s cheek with her palm.    ❝ You look so  beautiful  like this, zahrat al’hadid. ❞

The young warrior, proud and strong, had let herself show her vulnerability to Tamara, and she knew that in her hands it was safe. The wife she had been engaged to in hopes of a better arrangement between Karnassos and Kyran’s people was perfect perfect. There was nothing in Tamara that Kyran had not learned to love; she found herself learning from the other’s perspective so often, learning more of the world, of customs and knowledge of other peoples through her, even if the young princess had never left her palace.

Those walls had kept her jewel safe inside, brilliant and untouched, but had robbed her of her freedom. 

Now she shone even brighter with the warmth of the sun or the light of the moon upon her, specially now, as she straddled Kyran’s lap and showed no fear, no hesitation anymore. A soft blush dusted the cheeks under the warrior’s green eyes as she was complimented for her beauty, and she had to wonder, if Tamara knew that next to her, everything paled. “And you my love, you look as radiant as the moon, you look as beautiful as ever. You know my breath was taken away, the first time I saw you... and the first time you let your hair down, took off your shawl for me.” 

Where Tamara’s touch was gentle, Kyran’s was eager, her hands held the hips of her wife as though afraid the smaller woman might disappear or run off if she did not. “You leave me insatiable with the spell of your body, dragako. You should do something about it.”

[akardlanya]

Tagged by @icedcoffee-and-pumpkinbread thank u bae

1. What is their name? - 

Kyran Elkelanya

2. Who named them? Was it their birth name? Did they choose their own name? 

Kyran was named by her mother Elke, with a bit of input from her sister Brynn. She keeps her birthname.

3. What does their name mean?

Kyran means ‘little dark one’ or ‘dark haired’. The name came with the fact that she was so opposite to her sister in coloring. 

4. Why did you choose that name for your apprentice?

Going through a list of girl names til one stuck? Then changed the spelling just a bit.

5. Do they have any nicknames or favorite pet names?

Ky is the most common, and she used to be called Kyshuga (play on the word for little sister and Kyran’s name) by her sister Brynn. 

Tamara calls her zahrat alhadid [iron flower]

Tagging: 

@loyalservants for Tamara, @demonteas for Keiros, @astridthemagician @magicianapprenticelyra if you haven’t done it.

[erebussociety]

[primevalthule]

000Fesbra000 

[dpcphotography]

Dandelions

[akardlanya]

loyalservants‌:

                                       𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐀 had taken a long while to properly speak the tongue of the Daughters of the Sword but she had soon enough had begun to speak and act accordingly. She carefully followed their customs, wary of offending any of them                            especially her beloved Kyran ever since the passing of her older sister. She was naïve and foolish for doing such rash decisions and reckless wording but she had grown  WISER  now. She would have been thought as a Kardjaii if it were not for the manner of which she dressed herself, especially the shawl that conceal the hair of the third daughter of the king, which the Karnassosians found  SACRED .

                                       Kyran was the  strongest  woman she had ever encountered. Whatever trouble laid before her, she was able to fight her way through with or without a sword in hand. So much  ADMIRATION  did she hold for the Kardjaii and even more as everyday passed them.

                                       Her  HEART  soared at the soft spoken words Kyran had uttered. That tone, that volume                               they were reserved only for her and Tamara seemed to have fallen in love all over again as if she had only met Kyran that moment. She wished to speak but no words came as her eyes closed and she was reeled into the  KISS  her beloved had given her. It was  raw  and  AFFECTIONATE , but there was also this indescribable  FIRE  in it. Like how winter became spring, the Karnassosian had  MELTED  into her  warmth  and she was pulled closer by her own waist.

Under the stars, the million of riding stars in the sky, alone but together is where Kyran thought Tamara and herself were meant to be. Out here, with only the wind, the grass, the fire and the animals to witness them, is where their love was meant to flourish, where it would grow strong and sturdy, not in a palace, under the eyes of many even when they were alone. The warrior had to wonder if her beautiful bride had ever felt at home there? Had she felt free? To Kyran, Tamara had always seemed to own the heart of a Kardjaii. The heart of a woman, a warrior, a free spirit.She was not to be tamed, not to be hidden away by any man or woman.

Kyran knew she was lucky to have won her heart.

Rough, strong hands ran over the smooth, perfect and warm skin of her lover under the tunic she’d chosen for the day, still colorful and bright, unlike anything the tribe made, and yet useful and beautiful in it’s own way. Tamara often stood out from the rest of the women atop their horse, or walking around the camp, much more than even the red haired or the dragako, and it made Kyran smile so affectionately... though if they were ever in battle, her heart feared for the target it would make. Then again, Tamara was no helpless babe. 

Not even for air would the young Kardjaii part from their kiss, passionate and strong, and before long, she was pulling Tamara up to lay on top of her instead that sit beside her, smiling into the kiss, her heart beating loud just for the woman she loved. 

[akardlanya]

loyalservants‌:

                                      𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 eyes never seemed to stop gleaming. Though, they don’t shine through the darkness, they can still push away  SHADOWS . Whenever her own sisters were down, she was there to be their  LIGHT  and then they would become hers whenever it was Tamara’s turn. This… this was something she had seen before. The weeping of the passing of her grandparents, she was there to comfort her sisters and in return, Almera would reassure Tamara that their grandparents were  SMILING  down upon them. 

                                      She was just like everyone else before their sudden engagement, afraid of the Kardjaii as much as she even detested them. For her blind eyes only saw  MURDERERS  of her beloved people. Tamara grieved for their people but then… it never reflected in her clothing, for the royal family wished to remain strong for their people. They were  UNBROKEN  as they were  UNBOWED . She had come to terms with Death soon enough and considered Death as an old friend. But then she met Kyran and understood whom she was beneath the dark paint on her face, she was  SOFT  and  KIND . She understood then why the Kardjaii had to be violent and she was then more  ANGRY  at her own father for wasting Karnassosian blood for petty things that were urged on by  GREED .

                                      Offering yet still a  BEAMING  smile, she helped wipe away the tears from Kyran’s eyes as she too sat up, putting the blanket over their shoulders. The breeze in the night picked up and the grass around them swayed. Hikma hopped off from Evike and flew onto Tamara’s head to nestle there with a little coo from the pygmy owl yet her eyes and attention remained with Kyran. In the tongue of the Kardjaii, she said,   ❝ I love you so much, Kyran, nothing can stop it. Ever. ❞

Hearing her own mother tongue in the lips of Tamara felt somehow much more intimate than anything else. Tamara was definitely aware of it, the green eyed woman knew, but it was no less touching or surprising every time she heard it, specially with such meaningful words. 

If her heart was heavy, it was also warm by her lover’s touch. It was kept safe within the hands she so adored, the hands she kissed, she touched, she let herself be touched by. Never in her life had Kyran thought to be so tender, so vulnerable, and somehow if it was Tamara, she did not mind. 

“Never leave me, my love. I would wilt without your light.” Those were the last words to leave her lips before they crashed against Tamara’s own in a kiss that was passionate and needy in equal parts, a kiss that asked for reassurance, and offered all the raw strength of the Kardjaii woman.The blanket that covered them would surely slide away, but for now it kept them warm together, held by Tamara, while Kyran’s hands wrapped around her lover’s waist and slid under the tunic she wore to touch the warm skin she so adored.  

[akardlanya]

loyalservants‌:

                                     𝐒𝐇𝐄 merely tried to help her betrothed. She was  FOND  of her. More than that ! She called her  ❛ MY LOVE ❜  in her tongue several times and though, she did not know if Almera or Sahara had taught Kyran phrases but she was definitely still obvious by the way she would look at Kyran with her big  DOE  eyes that were full of nothing but  LOVE  and  ADMIRATION . She was  STRONG  in many ways and she loved that about Kyran. She wanted to protect her, not because she was weak, but because she loved her. It was the same for Tamara. Sometimes, when her father spoke ill of the Kardjaii and especially Kyran, she could feel  SPARKS  in her fingertips. 

                                     Tamara had learned many things from their tribe. She had learned  WISDOM  from them along with their culture, which she valued and respected highly. 

                                     With Kyran, she let out a little laugh as her eyes drifted to the  STAR FIELD  above them, twinkling and shining down upon them. The light within the shadows.   ❝ I’ll be the  WHETSTONE  to your  SWORD  forever, Kyran, ❞   she said with a kiss upon her head, holding her close as she cried into her neck. She did not mind it, despite the tears damping her skin. Kyran needed this… and she wanted what was best for her. Even if… it hurt that she was  CRYING . She could feel her chest tighten but Kyran’s been her stone for a while now. Tamara was returning the favour.

Tamara’s laughter was like a soothing balm on a burn, somehow. Were it anyone else, she might have lashed out, thrown a punch, thrown many in fact, until her pained ebbed. But never would she raise a hand to the love of her life. Kyran knew it was not mocking, but perhaps some sort of relief, that the tribeswoman had opened up. She’d been betrothed to Tamara to unite their peoples, but they had come to find true love in one another, to understand each other, to open up, and let themselves be seen as they were.

So the young warrior let herself come undone for once, let her tears wash away the pain she’d held inside for so long at the loss of the sister she’d shared everything with. They’d talked at length about love, the power of it, the strength they hoped to find in the person they finally settled with, the two sisters. Kyran hadn’t managed to picture herself beyond battle, with a lover that lasted more than a season.  How she wished Brynn could see her now, so in love, so happy with Tamara.

After a time, her body stopped shaking, her cries quieting down, and Kyran’s hands relaxed their hold on Tamara’s form, slowly pulling herself straight and wiping at her cheeks with the back of her furred bracers, sighing. “You are my everything, Tamara. My whetstone, my home, my strength.” She didn’t know how to thank her, or how to make sure her lover did not worry further, even if the warrior was still low in spirits, so she said what came to mind, without a filter.

[akardlanya]

loyalservants‌:

                                     𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐀 was not  WISE  because she experienced many things. No, Ahkfir was far too  PROTECTIVE  of his  DAUGHTERS  to even let a single strand in their dark hair be twisted out of place. No, her wisdom was from the books of the library she would often waste her time away when she was not in the  GARDENS , daydreaming about another life in another universe where she perhaps was a simple  SHOPKEEPER  in Nopal or Vesuvia where adventure awaited for her every day. 

                                     Until the Kardjaii came and wrecked havoc upon horseback and though their weapons were primitive, as according to her father, they overpowered them regardless. Perhaps, Tamara once thought, if Sahara had provided her strategic intellect to the generals, they would have won but so much lives were lost from both end. The people of Karnassos  DREADED  the Kardjaii even after the declaration of Tamara’s and Kyran’s marriage that should unite both tribe and kingdom. 

                                     She thought over the words she should utter and thus, she lifted her head a little so she could look into Kyran’s green eyes with her own brown ones.    ❝ Then you should know the  AXE’S  blade needs to be polished. If… you continue to fight and fight, you’ll wear yourself out till there’s little use of you left despite not being that old, Kyran… Rest and be at ease. You can’t lead if you allow yourself to rust and blunt away. ❞

                                     Eyes softened as she lifted her hand onto Kyran’s jaw, feeling her lips curl upward a little.    ❝ Don’t hurt yourself, I love you too much to let that happen. ❞  

                                     Thoughts drifted for a while to the memory of Kyran and Tamara fighting side by side with both  MAGIC  and  BLADE . The princess never considered herself to fight an actual battle. Her father used to say women were not fit to fight… the Kardjaii were all women and yet… the conquered a great kingdom of gold. Hand upon Kyran’s chest, she said,   ❝ I know it hurts, Kyran, to no longer have a sister to call your own but you’re not alone. She’s with you in your heart as long as you remember her. ❞

Leave it to the the innocent to be the wisest among them. Tamara’s words rang true, as true as anything could ever be, and hearing her speak like this, like a true dragako of her people, offering advice in the same words the Kardjaii would use, left Kyran speechless. Tamara would never cease to amaze her warrior bride. 

Yet the daughter of the sword knew not how to rest, how to grieve, how to let herself feel the pain. It only ever came out as anger, as bloodlust, as battle rage... and now? Now she was laying with Tamara, alone in the middle of the pastures, with no one and nothing to fight, and it was overwhelming her. 

“Shall I...” She sighed a breath of what might have been laughter as she felt the first burning tear escape her eyes. “Shall I let you be my whetstone then?” A small scoff, but the brunette ended up hiding her face on the crook of her lover’s neck, though no sob would push past her, even if tears slowly came to her eyes. “I will never forget. She is my sister of blood and of sword... Brynn...” The name broke her barriers and finally, the warrior allowed herself to dissolve into the misery of her lost sister, of her pain, holding on to the woman she loved for support, feeling fragile and lost all of a sudden.

[acheronticarts]

17. Bjorndottir

I drew a Viking inspired by my lovely lady @veidolon

Does this count as fan-art? I am her biggest fan…

(Also, I hate tumblr’s compression, the full image looks way better.)

[mypieceofculture]

History Aesthetics // Viking

Ancient Greek Girl

[loyalservants]

꧁ Betrothed ꧂

The brunette felt as though she’d cracked her ribs open, and was showing her heart to Tamara, raw and vulnerable, easy to hurt, to rip out, to destroy. But even if she had been, she felt as though when the two of them were alone like this, under the stars with only Evike to listen in, or sharing a tent, or even inside of palace walls, Kyran was protected by Tamara, almost as if her veil had wrapped around the taller woman.

Olive eyes were cast down toward the space where their hands met as blush tinted her high cheeks softly. “I can’t afford it… I… It’s not…” When had Kyran stumbled over her words before? “It’s in the past, and I should not dwell on it. They ride in the stars in stallions of light, I ought to be happy for them now.”

Kyran wondered if anyone ever healed from those scars. Often times the women that formed part of her tribe would showcase the wounds of their hearts in their ritual makeup. Her own had changed to match the deaths of her family, of course. She knew Elke’s had changed when her mother died, and then again when her daughters had been born. It was a mark of your survival, scars and your ritual makeup. She didn’t know if healing was something she would want.

                                          𝐊𝐘𝐑𝐀𝐍 was more than just her betrothed by this time around. She was also more than just either a  FRIEND  or  COMPANION . Tamara felt herself  DRAWN  to her so much that she could not feel herself as a whole without Kyran by her side. Well, an exaggeration but also not entirely either. It felt…  STRANGE  but Tamara did not hate this foreign feeling. Like how the outside world was so  PECULIAR  upon her first travel as granted by her father. The third princess never really had seen even her own city because of the  WAR  with the Daughters of the Sword until… of course her father sat down Elke and convinced her to let one of her daughters marry one of his own ( apart from the youngest ).

                                          She looked upon the  STARS  once more and her thoughts dwelled in the memory of Kyran’s older sister passing away, dying  VALIANTLY  in battle. She felt a little responsible for it, as it was her father who united them so they could have  SUPPLIES ,  FOOD  and a place to stay during their  WINTERS , in return, Karnassos has their strong protectors. There was also the memory of angering Kyran for a  MISTAKE  that left her mouth and then the apology… The rest was history. Tamara became well-versed with their customs and she was slowly becoming fluent in their language, for the benefit of understanding their culture more.

                                         ❝ Yes, but… it’s okay to  GRIEVE , Kyran. It just means… you love her so much. In my culture, we wear  DULL  silks and shawls for a year as we grieve. We can’t celebrate birthdays or other holidays. ❞   Moving closer to Kyran, she placed her face between her jaw and her neck.    ❝ Grieving is natural, it’s a part of our humanity but… know that you still need to be  STRONG  for her. ❞

[akardlanya]

How long had Kyran and Tamara known each other before Brynn had died? It must have been but a few weeks. The very first attack from the other side; and of course it had been the Scourge. Side by side the sisters had fought, and in Kyran’s arms the blonde warrior had died. After that the younger sister had only heard of her prowess in battle and how she’d cut down through anyone in her path, and yet the green eyed woman remembered little, until she had to drag her sister’s body back to town.

The thought alone made her eyes sting, but not a tear rolled down. A daughter of the sword stood and fought, and put the people responsible for her grief down. And she had, from what she understood, but Kyran couldn’t help the pain that lingered. 

“I’m... I’m not meant to. I’m the Axe of Kardjai, I cut my path through.” She sighed heavily, burying her nose in the beautiful dark hair that was only hers to see.  She was meant to be happy now, and she was, most of the time. Kyran could not have asked for a better match for her life partner: Tamara was strong, with a will of iron, and yet so kind and gentle with her, now that they knew each other, warm and open... inviting in so many ways. They had slowly shared more and more with one another, kept each other safe through uncomfortable moments and dangerous ones... 

 “Women go and live their days with the Dragako if the pain is too much, until they heal with their help. But... I could never. I’m a warrior, I’m the only daughter of Elke. I’m a leader, and I have you, my bride, my life...” 

[black-raven200]

Dandelions 🌼💛 [mine please don’t repost without permission :)]