Антандра

In the gracious cool oasis of the scorched room, there is a magnificent temple.The architectural miracle from the forgotten time, it remains evidence of the greatness of those who came before.Many thugs believe that this was done not only by the hands of mortals, but the gods themselves went down to help in the construction of an amazing building.Here, secret knowledge is hidden in ancient symbols carved in the walls.This place of respect and greatness for all tribes smashed.The temple is observed by a group of respected elders.The protection of the temple and elders in it lies with the warriors of the temple, a group of elite guardians who devote their lives to the protection of the building. The process of choosing the warriors of the temple is cruel.At the age of only a few years, young babies smashed the temple.Their training begins immediately and this is severe, since most recruits do not survive during the first year.The following tests are painful and dangerous enough to weed out everyone except the most powerful, fast and resourceful candidates.Each warrior of the temple is an unsurpassed fighter who is well versed in almost any possible combat situation.In society, Gromil is considered a great honor to give the child to protect the temple, who manages to survive training and achieve adulthood.Antandra was approaching the end of her training and, after the final test, would have to be fully commissioned by fighters.Everyone was sure that the final test would be good for her.Antandra was one of the fastest in her group and rarely lost to sparring matches with other students.Her combat instincts were unsurpassed, but she lacked maximum devotion to her work.In the hearts of other novices there was only the temple, while Antandra still felt the emotions of those who did not go through the forge of the tests.One hot day, this fundamental difference came to her head outside the temple. Antandra and several training comrades met a lonely young baby.The child wandered around the scorched expanses and desperately needed help.He was a hungry and burned scorching sun.Antandra coaches threw only cold callouses at the child. For their long life, they saw things and worse.Their compassion disappeared like a stone in a sandy desert wind.Antandra, however, could not ignore the difficult position of the young man.She came up and knelt, calming the frightened child and offering a flask of water from her belt.The leader of their group, a persistent and ruthless fighter, ordered her to stop.Antandra refused and immediately the leader’s knife was assigned to the young man's neck.The rest was blurred.Antandra’s hand clung to the wrist of war: a blow, dust rising from the ground with each deadly movement, sharp loud sounds of strokes steel, parrying, blows and shocks, and, finally, a strange feeling of cuts that appears on the bodies of wars.Wounds, red and deep began to appear.Other initiates stood around, watching the sight.When the leader fell from the last strike of Antandra, her body was covered with deep wounds. Antandra stood, breathing heavily over the body of the man with whom she fought for years, still trying to understand what had just happened when the first old man shouted: “Listen!You fought for the protection of this child, the child is not from the temple and not from your order of warriors. ”The second elder came in.“You are the spear of the temple.You have only one reason to fight.All other reasons are prohibited. ”The third elder looked at the stage and said one word: "Exile."Leaving the place where she grew up, and from the only people she ever knew, she looked around. "Conscience is the oasis of the soul"