Thalrun Glossary and Prologue
Thalrun Glossary
Veythar: Friend or ally in battle.
Ulrahn: Wild and free.
Tharvian: Blood and claw, symbolizing loyalty or vengeance.
Luthan: Forest or sanctuary, representing safety and belonging.
Sorakha: Cry of the wild, a rallying call or awakening.
Kaern: Heart or soul, the core essence of life.
Zenthara: Balance or harmony, the equilibrium of nature and existence.
Ulthir: Protector or guardian, often used for those who defend the wild.
Rathian: Roar of fury, spoken in moments of battle or defiance.
Ivarn: Promise or unbreakable vow, binding word of beasts and beastmasters.
Prologue: The Cry of the Wild
The forest was alive that night, its shadows weaving tales of predator and prey beneath the glow of twin moons. Kaida ran, her small legs struggling to keep pace as her parents dragged her through the underbrush. The air was thick with the scent of fear and blood, the trees seeming to lean closer, whispering warnings in a language she would later understand but now felt as only a shiver down her spine.
Behind them, a monstrous roar shattered the stillness. Her mother, Lirien, glanced back, her voice sharp. “Don’t stop, Kaida! Don’t look!”
But Kaida couldn’t help herself. She turned.
Through the gaps in the trees, she saw it—a massive beast, its eyes glowing like molten gold, its body cloaked in shadow. It was unlike anything she had ever seen, and yet, instead of fear, something else gripped her. A strange pull, as if the beast’s gaze had reached into her very soul.
Her father stumbled, and with a crash, he fell, pulling Lirien down with him. Kaida froze, her heart pounding as the beast emerged, its breath a low, guttural rumble. Her parents screamed at her to run, but her feet refused to obey.
The beast stepped closer, and Kaida felt its power—ancient, unyielding, and wild. Her mother’s voice broke through her trance. “Kaida, please! You must live!”
A sudden flash of movement. Her parents lunged, putting themselves between her and the creature. The forest erupted into chaos—screams, the thrashing of bodies, and then silence.
Kaida stood alone in the clearing, tears streaking her face. The beast towered over her, its golden eyes steady and unblinking. It did not attack. Instead, it lowered its massive head, the heat of its breath warming her tear-streaked cheeks. She reached out a trembling hand, her small fingers brushing against its coarse fur.
A word—no, a sound—escaped her lips. It was not a language she knew, and yet it felt as natural as breathing. “Veythar.”
The beast stilled. Its molten eyes softened, and then, with a deep, resonant growl, it turned and disappeared into the shadows. Kaida was left alone, the word still echoing in her mind, a whisper of something ancient and powerful. The
That night, she became a child of the wild.
