Hasty footsteps sounded from the street. Ayanda turned down the oil lamp on the dining table, but her trembling fingers barely got a grip on the sprocket. She cursed continuously until the flame went out. In the dark the sounds outside seemed even louder. She pressed herself against the wall and held her breath. Dark shadows moved past the windows, but in the moonlight she could not see whether they were guardsmen of the Supreme Priest or villagers fleeing from them. She closed her eyes and waited for them to pass. Only then did she dare to breathe out again.

"Close the window shutters! Quick!" her mother hissed from the basement, accompanied by the shrieking sound of wood about to snap. "Ayanda? Hurry!”

A shock went through Ayanda's body when a loud bang sounded from the basement. She started to move and pulled the window shutters towards her. Just before they closed, she caught a glimpse of the chaos outside. A group of guardsmen on horseback galloped through the street with swords drawn and drove the people in the street apart. A girl in a woolen nightgown pulled her father's arm and cried. Ayanda slammed the shutter bolts in place as fast as she could. "Did you find them?" she shouted hoarsely to her mother.

"The floorboard is loose. I'm almost there.”

Ayanda stood motionlessly in the room. The look in the eyes of the Supreme Priest was burned into her memory. She and her mother had immediately known something was wrong when the King and the Supreme Priest appeared side by side on the balustrade of the palace. The King had given in, all the signs pointed to it. They did not have to say anything to each other and had fled the crowd midway through the speech.

"Ayanda?" her father's voice resonated from the bedroom. "Come.”

She reluctantly walked to the door and stopped there. She knew why he had called her. She also knew it was something he didn't want to say, as well as being something she didn't want to hear. She closed her fingers around the door handle and opened the door. The smell of her father's sweat stung her nose.

"Come, little one," said her father. He tapped his palm on the straw mattress of his bed. "Will you sit with me for a minute?”

Ayanda stopped, her lips clamped together. Her father sat up straight in bed, his back positioned against the wall. He had a blanket pulled up around his waist, because he knew that his daughter didn’t like seeing the stumps where his legs had been amputated. Yet the empty space beneath his hips was glaringly obvious to Ayanda.

"I don't understand," she murmured. "What’s happening?”

"Teriyas has made the other Gods his servants. The Supreme Priest has accepted his authority. Out of docility or fear, I don't know, but our people are a danger to him.”

"I didn't ask to be born this way. I can't help it that our blood bears the signs of the Gods.”

“That's right, little one. It's not your fault.” He smiled, as if he didn’t hear the clatter of arms coming from outside. "Now come.”

Ayanda sat down on the edge of the bed. Her father grabbed her hand. "I understand it's hard, but you have a chance to build a new life.” He sighed. "And you know how important they are, right? There are only a few copies of the Chronicles and our family has protected them for generations. They must be brought to safety.”

Ayanda nodded.

"It contains the full history of our people. And you know that the Supreme Priest will destroy everything to do with the practice of our faith. The Chronicles above all. Whatever his motives, he knows the time has come to assert his power.”

"But he is one of us. I could tell today at the palace.”

"That's exactly why," her father said. "He wants to get rid of anyone who can oppose him. That's why you have to leave, Ayanda. Make sure you escape the city walls.”

Ayanda's mother came rushing into the bedroom. In her hands she held a package wrapped in cloth, tied up with a thin rope. "The Chronicles, and a number of other books that a shaman will surely find useful. She gave the package to her daughter. "The guardsmen are at the door, Ayanda. You have to go.”

Ayanda stared at the package in her hands and felt tears running down her cheeks to her neck. “I can't do it. I can't just leave you behind.”

"Then you understand why I have to stay with your father. Hopefully they'll have mercy on an disabled man and his wife. But you can go. You must flee the city and bring the books to safety. Live your life, and make sure we will not be forgotten.”

Ayanda tightened her jaw. She turned to her father and kissed him. From the living room came the sound of the guardsmen banging on the door.

"Go," her father said to her. "And be blessed, for we, your parents - as shamans and as descendants of the Gods - will live on with you.”

Ayanda's mother pulled her into the living room. Outside their names were cried and they were ordered to open the door. Meanwhile, Ayanda's mother put a waterskin, a round loaf of bread and some dried meat in a knapsack and gave it to Ayanda. She gestured for her to put the Chronicles inside as well. "Go out the cellar through the storage hatchway. They won't expect that.” Behind them thudded the blow of an axe as it cleaved through their wooden front door. She stroked Ayanda's face and gently caressed her cheek with her thumb. “I'm sorry, but you have to go.” She pressed a meat knife from the kitchen into her daughter's hand.

Ayanda stared at the knife's blade. She knew she had to go, but her legs wouldn't move. Her uncontrolled breathing wasn’t allowing her to think clearly. Then, with an earsplitting crack, the front door gave way. The splinters caused by the fatal blow sliced through the room. "Run!" Ayanda's mother yelled.

Ayanda threw the knapsack over her shoulder and ran to the cellar door. As she unsteadily descended the stairs, the first guardsmen stormed in with their weapons raised. In the moments just before slamming the cellar shut, she saw her mother shrieking at the guardsmen to win time for her daughter’s escape. Crying, Ayanda jumped from the stairs to the floor of the cellar and ran to the back of the house. Behind her she heard her mother and the guardsmen screaming. She threw the bolt of the storage hatchway next to her on the floor and shoved the doors open. With the knapsack containing the Chronicles firmly clasped against her body, she climbed out of the hatchway. From the house she now heard not only the screams of her mother, but also the desperate cries of her father. She had to use all her willpower to not turn back.

Behind the house there was a small courtyard where a group of chickens had been woken up by all the commotion in the city. There was no one to be seen, but there was only one alleyway through which she could get away. She carefully made her way over the gritty cobblestones of the alleyway floor. When she reached the street she suddenly stood face to face with two guardsmen on horseback. “Halt!” The men drew their weapons.

Ayanda looked around quickly, but the only way to escape was back to the house. However, with her eyes pinched she saw three guardsmen coming through the storage hatchway into the courtyard. Inside the house it was quiet. A cold shiver went through her body and her fear gave way to a scorching rage from one moment to the next. She felt her blood roaring like a fire that threatened to char her veins from within.

Ayanda’s parents had carefully educated her and taught her how to control her partially divine blood, but now darkness was spreading before her eyes and she felt her soul growing, nourished by her anger. She tried to get a grip on her powers and focused her rage on the guardsmen. The horses realized what was happening before their riders did and retreated backwards. She felt the blistering discharge as she forced her powers towards the riders. One of the guardsmen fell off his horse with a jolt and smashed his head on the cobblestones below. He remained dazed, his trembling arm reaching for his sword that had fallen to the ground beside him. The other guardsman managed to keep his balance, but Ayanda took a step forward and reached out towards his soul. The world around her had become a shadow play. She wrapped her fingers around his soul strands and eagerly tore them apart. For her helpless father and for her mother who had sacrificed herself for her. The man gasped for air and slumped to the ground upon which Ayanda threw herself on top of him and forced the kitchen knife into his neck. A thick gush of blood splattered onto her face as the world around her took shape again. Behind her, the guardsmen rushed towards her from the courtyard. As she got up, she felt how her attack had weakened her body. She grabbed one of the horses by the reins and clambered into the saddle. From the alley, she heard the sound of swords being drawn. She planted her heels in the horse's flanks and galloped away from the guardsmen.

As she rode towards the city gate, she looked around. The streets were filled with dead and wounded people, hunted for their blood or because they did not want to conform to the will of the Supreme Priest. In the gutter lay the body of a woman who had been unable to avoid the horsemen. The horses' hooves had left little of her body, but her face was intact and her eyes stared upward as if begging the Gods for help. Ayanda clenched her fists in anger.

The guardsmen had set a number of houses on fire. Some people tried to save their possessions from the flames, while others watched motionlessly as the flames consumed their lives before their very eyes. Ayanda saw from the corner of her eye that one of the burning buildings was the forge belonging to the Ildrum family. As a shaman, she had helped the couple and their two sons several times. Their horse was tied to the facade of the house and there was little chance it would be able to escape the flames. The animal whinnied loudly in terror. As Ayanda rode past the house, she saw that the doors of the forge had been kicked in. She looked through the windows and saw the two sons sitting on their knees on the ground in the middle of the burning forge. They pulled on something lying on the floor next to the anvil, but it didn't move. Immediately Ayanda held the reins and got down off the horse. With the Chronicles under her arm, she ran inside. She looked up. It wouldn't be long before the roof would collapse. She grabbed the boys by their tunics and pulled them out.

"Let go of me!" yelled the eldest. He tried to kick her.

The other boy stared at Ayanda with tears in his eyes and pointed to the ground next to the anvil. Only now did Ayanda see that they were the bodies of their parents. She froze. Their throats had been cut, and on the ground next to the anvil a large pool of blood had formed.

One of the rafters fell to the ground hissing from the heat. The flames immediately spread. “You can't stay here," she said to the boys. "The roof is about to collapse." She saw her own pain reflected in the eyes of the boys, seven and ten years old. “We will pray for them,” said Ayanda, “but now we have to go outside. As soon as possible!”

She pushed the boys out through the front door onto the street. "Take your parents' horse and come with me. We've got to get to the city gate. Stay close to me.”

The oldest boy untied the horse and helped his younger brother climb into the saddle. He then leaped up and sat behind him and followed Ayanda.

Ayanda managed to avoid the guardsmen, who galloped through the city in small groups and drove the fleeing villagers apart. The boys rode silently after her, their eyes fixed on the ground so they didn’t have to look at the atrocities happening around them.

The city walls loomed up in the distance ahead of them. Ayanda had to hold back the reins a little so the boys could keep up with her through the winding streets and steep bridges in the centre of town. As they approached the city gate, more and more people crowded together. It was difficult to keep moving as they rode through the flowerbeds and along the white rows of statues on Kings Square. In the middle of the crowd they stopped. To her horror Ayanda saw that the city gates had been sealed with huge bronze locks and that several guardsmen were shooting arrows at the crowd from the battlements on the city wall. Some villagers climbed the stone steps and attacked the guardsmen with rakes and ploughs. Others tugged at the chains fastening the gates shut.

"Wait here," she shouted to the boys. Ayanda rode back to the nearest row of statues and loosened her horse's reins to use them as a rope. She climbed on the pedestal, tied the ends around the neck of the statue and started pulling. When it was clear what she was planning to do, two young men came to help her. Together they pulled the statue from its pedestal after which others joined them to lift it towards the city gates.

On the city wall the villagers had managed to overpower the archers, but in the meantime, on one of the main roads of the city, dozens of guardsmen on horseback were gathering to launch a frontal attack.

Ayanda let go of the statue and ran back to her horse. On the way, she grabbed a sword from the body of a dead guardsman. Back at her horse she climbed into the saddle and clutched the animal by the mane with her free hand. She rode in front of the crowd and raised the sword. "I am Ayanda of the house of Narlok, and I bear the signs of the Gods. The guardsmen killed my parents.” Her voice was unsteady. She bit her jaws and found courage. "The city gates will soon be opened, but the enemy is preparing to attack!” She pointed her sword towards the guardsmen on horseback who had formed a broad line. More and more eyes focused on her. "Our numbers are great, far greater than our enemies, but if we don't defend ourselves, we are doomed. Raise arms, now! For our freedom!”

Meanwhile, loud bangs pierced the air as the statue rammed against the gate. Ayanda urged her horse to ride out in front of the crowd. The guardsmen were still getting into formation. “Forward!' Ayanda shouted, riding away from the crowd with her sword raised. Despite their captain's orders, the lines of the guardsmen immediately began to fall apart, and as they approached them and got closer, most of them disappeared between the houses. The captain of the guardsmen and a handful of followers stayed. Ayanda rode straight towards the captain and pointed an attack towards his stomach. The man parried it skilfully and attempted a counterattack while Ayanda rode past him. His sword threatened to descend on her unprotected back. Ayanda dropped flat on her horse's back and felt the weapon just miss her. Shivering, she tugged the reins and turned her horse back towards the guardsmen. The man dug his heels into the flanks of his horse and yelled a battle cry. Ayanda, her weapon unsteady in her sweaty palm, braced herself for his attack. She saw the sparkle in his eyes when he saw how scared she was. The captain laughed as he rushed towards her. He raised his weapon. Where Ayanda's divine powers had just been within reach, she was now in the grip of her fear. She searched for the power she had felt before, but found none. The man's laughter froze her thoughts as the blade of his sword swung through the night air. She closed her eyes. The man's cry seemed endless, but then slowly faded into something else. A cry of fear. Ayanda opened her eyes and saw some of the villagers throw themselves on top of him with their knives pulled. His cries silenced when he was dragged off his horse. There was a grunting sound when one of the men thrust the captain's head to the ground and shattered his skull.

Ayanda looked around panting. Many of the guardsmen were lying on the ground in twisted positions and those who had survived the attack had fled. Ayanda was pretty sure they would return soon with reinforcements. So they didn't have much time. Standing in the stirrups, she glanced towards the city gate. The group of young men were ramming the statue continuously against the gates. The wood cracked and the bolt bent under the force of the blows. Some of the locks bent and one shot loose with a shrill pinging sound. A loud noise emanated from the gate and the bystanders started urging the men on. One of the men supporting Ayanda ran with his axe to the gate doors and started furiously striking the locks. Green sparks flying off the bronze with every hit. The bystanders shouted every time the statue thumped into the wood. Ayanda, however, peered towards the city, where the tower of the Supreme Priest towered high above the roofs. She knew that he was standing there, grinning perhaps, his gaze fixed on the city gate. That he was watching his most experienced assassins galloping through the streets of Irulyar to kill them all mercilessly.

Ayanda brought her horse around in front of the crowd. "We're running out of time!" she shouted. "Who, like me, bears the signs of the Gods in their blood?” Only a few people turned around, but most of the crowd kept shouting at the group of young men with the statue.

In her dejection, Ayanda felt her anger grow again. She reached deeply into her soul in search of her powers. "Who shares my heritage?" she roared as she tried to bundle her powers. She cantered through the crowd towards the gates and threw her sword to the ground. Instead, she clenched her fist. "Who shares my power?" she shouted again. "Look!” She raised her fist over her head. A few bystanders stepped aside in front of her and stared at her. From the other side of the square, she heard the sound of horses. Ayanda took a quick look back and saw how the guardsmen were gathering.

“We're running out of time!” Ayanda stopped in front of the gate and focused her powers on the bolt. "Help me. Please.” As her mental strength grew, she felt her body weaken and she groaned gutturally.

From the crowd, the eldest son of the Ildrum couple stepped forward. In his hand he held the reins of the horse on which his brother sat. "I am Olgart of the house of Ildrum! And this is my little brother Hadon,” the boy shouted in tears. "Our parents have been murdered by the guardsmen as well.” He pointed at Ayanda. "Ayanda Narlok is our shaman. She's a descendant of the Gods. Listen to her, please!”

"No matter how weak," said Ayanda, "anyone who bears the signs of the Gods in their blood must help me.”

The young men swinging the statue paused for a moment and stared at Ayanda. Then they too saw the new army of guardsmen getting ready to charge. One of them raised his voice, "The gates are not going to give way”. His face was red from the effort. "Do something! Hurry!' he bellowed. "Help her!”

More and more people joined Ayanda and bundled their power. Ayanda looked at them. "We have to all do this together!" she cried. She gestured to the young men with the statue. "Are you ready?” Behind them sounded the orders of the guardsmen.

"Children of the Gods," she then shouted. "Forget your teaching. Forget every hindrance that has ever been imposed on you and direct your powers to the gate doors. Now!”

From the other side of the square, the army of guardsmen began to move towards them. Ayanda could see how their powers reached the gate like a dark haze. She concentrated and tried to bundle the moving strands into one sweeping movement towards the bolt of the city gates. She became light-headed, but could clearly feel their grip on the gate doors tightening. The doors slowly bent outwards, putting the bolt under great tension. A loud cracking sounded. She then shouted out a battle cry and those  people accompanying her immediately joined her. Drops of sweat pearled across her forehead. "Now!" she shouted at the group of young men. Just before the statue hit the gate doors she saw how the wood shuddered under the weight of their power. The next moment, there was a deafening bang. In a huge shower of sparks, the locks sprung out and broke the latch. The crowd stormed forward, pushed the doors open and fled the city screaming.

Ayanda collapsed into the saddle. Behind her she heard the enemy approaching. With her last strength, she pressed the Chronicles close to her body. She searched for the kitchen knife, but she couldn't find it. Her head was spinning. She must have lost them. The battle cries of the guardsmen came closer. She couldn't give up. She screamed when a hand reached for her horse's mane and tried to move it away. Someone gripped her arm. A boy jumped into the saddle behind her. He kicked his heels into the horse's flanks and galloped away. Ayanda had to make an effort to keep her eyes open while her body was shaken back and forth on the horse's back, but she saw how they approached the gate. With difficulty she could distinguish the face of Olgart, who was holding her firmly. His little brother Hadon rode out in front of them. She sighed deeply when Olgart urged the horse on and it carried them through the gates to freedom.