Rayna was ten when she first saw him.
He was so unlike everybody else in their clan- with a shabby appearance, accentuated by his unruly black hair that concealed one of his eyes. His clothes were stained with blood and soot; his feet bruised and blistered.
Those piercing eyes were the most striking feature of his. They were the colour of murky water- somewhere between moss and grey asphalt.
Rayna had been smitten instantly.
They had been having their evening meals when the guards had entered with the boy, bringing him back from one of their patrols. They told her father, the chieftain, that the boy was the sole survivor of an attack that had wiped away his entire clan.
Her father, being the way he was, took one look at the lost and scared fourteen-year-old boy, and decided to take him under his wing.
Rayna couldn have been more delighted.
The boy was to be raised as one of their own. It was not something unprecedented; they had often accommodated people from other tribes and clans.
But for the boy, who had lost his entire family, this act of kindness was nothing short of a miracle.
Rayna could never forget the look on his face as he had gazed at her father, when he offered him the juicy piece of lamb he held in his hand.
The boys eyes shone with the intensity of the sun. He had not needed much encouragement to have a bite from the meat.
That small act of kindness on her fathers part had earned him the undying loyalty of the boy.
Rayna wondered how long it had been since he last had something to eat...
Her father ruffled the boys hair, before speaking in the kindest of tones,