Noshee was born and raised in the province of Destiny. On the outside, he had a normal upbringing. No one wondered who he was or what he did. He has a shy personality, which fits because his wife is a Legionnaire, a warrior with a command of a 1000 called a swarm. Her assertiveness fits into his shyness like a puzzle.
Most don’t realize that turmoil filled the morning of Noshee’s life. His father is a master, someone who teaches how to fight—duel—and doesn’t serve the Legion. In the Legion, the Warlord commands and sets training schedules and studies – philosophy, art, military tactics. Masters don't serve in the Legion because it's against their philosophy of studying dueling for the purpose of propagating peace.
Noshee’s father had served in the Legion during the Tribal Wars, but no one seems to know which of the seven provinces. From early on he had abstained Noshee from asking. Probably because Noshee's father had lost his wings in a battle. But, again, no one was allowed to ask how he lost them.
In the morning of Noshee’s life, he enrolled in his father’s school called a Faith. Faiths were schools where the art of fighting was taught. There was no real way to prove that a master was a true master. Masters challenged each other and passed stories of their victories, but who knew if those stories were folk tales or truth. As a result, a student had to have faith in the master, school and fighting art.
In the Fatih, Noshee had a strict daily regiment of dueling practice, studies of philosophy, history, calligraphy, topped with chores to clean the school, teach new students, and maintain accounting books of trades for the Faith’s services. A small amount of work.
Noshee was a good student, did as he was told, and became one of the top duelers in competitions around the seven provinces. But Noshee’s father wanted perfection. He chastised Noshee for the smallest mistake, forced him to train harder than any student in the Faith.
Noshee had won every dueling event. How was that not perfect? What did he have to do to satisfy his father’s standards? Kill someone?
Noshee sulked as he flew from his father’s Faith through the forest canopy. There was one more tournament before the Rebirth, the end of the cycle. There, he would prove to his father just how skilled a dueler he was.
So in the last competition, Noshee's gripped dual broadswords, his specialty. His opponent wielded the gloved weapon, talons. Blades extended off her fingers and glimmered in the morning light. Both of them perched at opposite sides of a cage. The cage was about thirty wings in diameter, a sphere made out of thick barbed wire. Shredding of flesh was common in dueling bouts. But Noshee had a simple plan.
The cage door closed.
His opponent slid her hands into her talons. Noshee unsheathed dual broadswords from between his wings. Both hovered in the middle of the cage, just outside of each other’s range. Her wings threw gusts of air, flicking his long blonde hair. Noshee’s opponent threw her wings back and lunged in. Her talons swiped from every angle. Thin gashes marred Noshee’s skin. Thoughts of his father scolding him clouded his mind.
Noshee roared, stunning his opponent. His right broadsword swung across, but she caught it. Her talon’s steel palm provided enough friction, preventing Noshee from freeing his sword. With the claws of his feet, Noshee grasped her thighs. Keeping her hold on the sword, she swung her free talon down to free her leg.
However, she’d forgotten about Noshee’s second broadsword, his father’s stacking method of deception. Noshee had feinted freeing his sword, forcing her to grip it, and he distracted her by grabbing her thigh, pulling her attention away from his second sword.
He plunged it up her gut. Her gurgling signaled her death.
Hartons all over the provinces were outraged at Noshee and his father’s Faith. Students flocked away from the Faith, leaving Noshee’s father with no way of earning a living. Accidental deaths occur in dueling tournaments, but Hartons there on that day knew. Noshee had murder on his breath. They could smell it, rotten flesh.
Haunted with her face, Noshee gave up dueling. His shyness was born out of that incident, and he became recluse. In that darkness, he’d found his true passion. Wolves.
Today, Noshee is a researcher with a specialty in wolf pack behavior and family hierarchy. He’d wished he’d found his passion earlier and that woman’s life could have been spared. He doubts his relationship with his father will ever be repaired. After Noshee admitted he acted on his own, his father reopened his school and has regained his stature as a renowned institution of dueling.