It was late in the summer on Khivine when growing tension became the very foundation for a war to come. This story started on the same hill it died on, but it’s legacy lives on, told to one generation then the next without delay. A time in history that neither side takes pride in, bearing grief, guilt, and pain with the actions of those before them. Hopeful to never let it happen again on their little planet. Only after fifty-two years after the discovery and research of the Tsiuri reaching the humans, the tensions between Tsiuri and humans were still questionable. It was more often than not small squabbles and fights would break out against neighboring tribes, though the fights rarely ended in death or critical injuries. This changed with Chusu, the mother to Chujun, a fearless and brutal Tsiuri that had become fed up with the neighboring human tribe encroaching daily on her pack’s land.

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Chusu’s territory and pack, both known as the Kamino, a shortened, slang term for Kami No Oka, or “God’s Hill”. The land, risen on a hill in the Lochriver, had been protected by Chusu’s family for generations, believing that it was tied to the energy of the Wisp Tree and Piovaco. It was believed to be divine, far more than anything that sat atop it, which may hint towards its name. For the most part, many tribes stayed away from the already claimed territory, trying to remain at the very least cordial with the intimidating Tsiuri pack. It was also very well known that Chusu’s family was incredibly devoted to the land, so much so that they wouldn’t hesitate to shed trespasser blood, this had kept away humans for a long time, until 3975. The adjacent tribe had begun to settle, the Atto, humans and very crude ones at that. They took easily to hunting, depleting, and tromping through Kamino until they were detected, then would retreat back to their lands just over the hill. The ones who never ran fast enough fell to the jaws of the territorial Tsiuri pack to be roughed up and sent back home as a warning. Yet almost daily, the Atto often returned, as if the warnings held no consequence.

 

Some of the Kamino stressed the lack of safety, the savagery that the Atto had on their resources simply had to stop. The pressure was quickly building to see heads on stakes, like the ancestors would do, and all of this pressure fell on Chusu. Having never have faced a bolder tribe before, Chusu at first found herself in a grey area of morality and oath by blood. Defend the sacred land by all means necessary or  let the humans deplete the land your ancestors fought for. She decided to consult with the elders, who also worried about the idea of shedding blood on holy land; their consultation lead to Chusu deciding to make some sort of truce or deal with the Atto. Trying to avoid any death if at all possible, she a few of her guards approached the edge of the human settlement looking to speak to the highest ranked members. They were ushered, after some harassment from the Atto, to meet Zucha, the leader of the relatively large tribe. The communication between the two tribes was shaky, the Atto having come from descendants who’s dialect had differed from the majority of human language the Tsiuri had known at the time. Chusu spoke of tolerance and respect for sacred land, and Zucha heard a challenge; accusing Chusu of being too weak to to start a battle, riding off the coattails of the mighty and fearsome family whose name she bore.  However, with a solemn expression, Chusu did not fall into the trap of being the first one to fire back at the Atto, and remained formal in enemy territory offering once again the idea of a truce. Zucha laughed at her attempt of sincerity, cutting her speech off , and with a wave of his hand sent his guards upon her and her posse. The spontaneous beating was not only uncalled for, but lasted for what some speculate as a few hours of constantly kicking the Kamino while they were down,

 

“Now you’ve been warned.”

 

Zucha’s last say before the release of the Kamino had left a bitter taste in the back of Chusu’s mouth. He was arrogant and blissfully willing to start a war on a whim, a dangerous sort of man. Zucha’s very warning sent chills through the spines of the Kamino, and upon seeing their leader clad in dried blood, alive but not without reminders of her mistaken trust, no line split the pack any longer. They had to fight back, fast. The next day Chusu sent out a small raid group of twenty Tsiuri, who’s only task was to run through the Atto settlement and cause a bit of mayhem. Steal but never from the weak and needy. The hostile raid lacked any deaths, but plenty of blood had been shed, as Chusu cleared her warriors to fight back if they had to defend themselves. One human ended up dying from her injuries sustained days later, and this would lead to the Night of Izanau. Night of Izanau is considered “The Invite” in Kamino history scrolls, telling of how Chusu crushed the ambush Zucha had planned on them.

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Zucha had sent a small front of his warriors to the edge of Kamino territory, all of them armed and prepared in their armor for battle. Yet, none of them moved forward. Until the sun set and the night came, the line of men stood there unwavering, a distraction. Drawing out small crowds of Tsiuri to watch the warriors on their border, a line of Kamino warriors keeping a barrier between its packmates and the offensive. Chusu had found the simple blocking of one territory side to be suspicious, and went with her gut that an attack from the undefended and emptier side of the territory would occur. She sent her best warriors and scouts to the undefended side, to find the hiding Atto who were sure to attack once the light had been washed from the earth, when they would have the most advantage. The rest of her men went to the division line, as if only to appear like their forces were completely oblivious to the impending attack.

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“Slaughter anything that even looks upon you.”

 

Were her orders to the Tsiuri she sent away in secret to find the Atto, and without hesitation they massacred the fleet of fifty humans hiding just a thousand feet from the Kamino border. When night came, the ambush did not, and the humans left on the frontlines began to panic before retreating. With no one left at the massacre site to bring the message back to Zucha, it was only to be assumed that every single man out there had died at the mouths of those foxes. Zucha sent out another raid party during the early dawn, who fell upon a small scout party. The Kamino scouts had been escorting a few lost souls, a tsiuri mother and her litter of pups. The rules of war stated no innocents should fall to the sin of war, the Atto disregarded this unspoken law when they slaughter the entire party, pups and all. When the backup scouts were sent out to find their Kamino brethren, they happened upon mangled corpses and de-limbed bodies. Returning the news to Chusu of the deaths of the pups, war was then properly declared. Blood had littered the sacred lands that shouldn’t of and for that Chusu only needed so little to move her forces into complete offensive mode.

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The bloodshed and gruella fighting style kept up for years between the two battling tribes, to which Chusu fought in and won almost every battle at the head of her fronts. On the 7th year of the 5th month, Chusu sustained enough of an injury during the Battle on Ci Taznah River that she would die only hours after the battle had ended. Lungs pierced like wild game, she died from the blood loss and slowly, luckily in her own home as her troops transported her back before day’s end. Though she could barely speak, she gave over her blessing for her only daughter Chujun to take her place and lead the Kamino. Chujun adorned her mother’s armor, but she too felt tentative about the next battle to be had. Moral had weakened due to Chusu’s untimely death, but the warrior’s moral remained strong, willing to avenge her. Within the next few days, with proper planning, Chujun wanted to place two fleets on either side of the Atto territory. Planning to trap the Atto inwards and burn their settlement to the ground as a whole, a complete devastation to the people who stole her mother. She claims that as she slept that night, Haxnos stood over her, his hooves against the stone of her floors left chills throughout her body. Those blank silver eyes stared pass her soul, straight through her, and that silence that radiated throughout the room spoke volumes.

 

"Continue with the killing and more massive tragedy will be inevitable."

Samuel Schwinler died the very morning of Chujun’s brush with the god of fear.

 

When the news reached her on the left side’s fleet, she told her troops to fall back, or Samuel would roll in his grave at their plans. A name who always left a pleasant smile on the faces of many Tsiuri, the man who tried to love them, help each species coexist with one another. The retreat was not out of fear, but respect, a value so deeply ingrained in her by her mother that she wouldn’t dare to soil it. Zucha of course, upon receiving news of the retreating Tsiuri, took their retreat as cowardice. However, he did not send a fleet after them, he did not advance the war pass the day of Samuel’s death. Some of his closer generals expressed in their personal writings that Zucha knew his entire settlement would of burned that day, that every man, woman, and child would of charred at the hands of the Kamino. Maybe it was this knowledge that made him see the light in not attacking the Kamino again.

 

Fear of being the next undefeated warrior to die ended the war.

 

With the passing of Samuel Schwinler, his memorial brought many walks of life to the forefront of the city where he was immortalized in the shape of a statue. Samuel delicately stroking the cheek of a resting Tsiuri with a soft expression, carved out of white marble. Each year the statue adorns candles surrounding the base, and incenses that pour out smoke across the delicate twists and curves of the hard stone. This is done in celebration, for the knowledge and exposure of the Tsiuri that Samuel passionately researched and devoted his life to. With the unveil of Samuel’s statue, something spoke to Chujun in her dreams, her mother. One that expressed guilt, who spoke of Samuel’s death being the consequence of the war she allowed to continue. She was remorseful and while Chujun held rightful spite over the Atto, her mother’s wisp spoke to her in the light of peace, to take the higher ground that she couldn’t. With a heavy reluctance, Chujun took her men to the border of Atto territory with a white flag of truce. When Zucha was called to the border, after some choice words for his feelings on the foxes, he agreed to stop fighting. After the truce was declared, the Atto and Kamino feasted, all of them coexisting amongst one another for the night. The news of this story spread, and in celebration of the peace in one part of the land, the celebration spread worldwide. Feasts, friendly brawls, and drinking until one passed out took over Khivine.  

 

For the span of several weeks, the humans both in and out of the city agree to live amongst the Tsiuri and themselves in love and appreciation for one another. Previously known as the “day of togetherness”, the translation “Ichi Taikan” seemed far more fitting, meaning “sense of unity”. This quickly with the addition of games and feasting became the celebration or Festival of Unity, some even refer to the sporting events simply as the “summer games.” No hunting, fighting, poaching, or other sorts of misconduct may be allowed. Aeus diligently preserves Samuel’s memory, “Another son of my lands” as Aeus often regards him. In his memory the deity leaves no room for a lack of cooperation; all Tsiuri must also follow the Peace Laws during these weeks too. They cannot steal, kill, or fight the humans. This creates a time of pure unison, all must work at peace with one another at least once a year, every year, for a little more than half a century. It’s become worldwide tradition.

 

Though tradition does get boring, and being nice all the time gets super dreadful, so luckily the ancestors made competitive sports to really make this a party!