Consecration of the Seal Sword, Chapter 3 and a Look to the North
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Yay, next chapter with some very special appearances~. Enjoy, folks!
Chapter 3
Finally, the day is here! Despite the urgency, it took us some time to prepare everything for my departure – mostly convincing my mother that I’m not gonna get eaten by a wolf first step I take outside of Welsdorf. Even now she’s eyeing me like a babe newborn, not like her son of fifteen summers. A man almost.
We’re all gathered in front of the Order. All the novices are here, who won’t shut up about all the things I should and shouldn’t do, once I’m gone, and the elders and Gart have come, too, along with his brothers, whom he dragged along for good measure. It’s early in the morning and the sun has just left the treetops, caressing us with its warm light. As if Vas was letting us know of His assistance in this mission.
Things grow a little more quiet when Orson steps forward. He looks as stern as ever, though in his eyes there’s a faint hint of deep, friendly care he shows this openly only so often. In his hands he holds my training sword and a moderately intricate scabbard. "Freshly whet,“ he tells me, "to make sure your travel will be a safe one. Use it wisely, a sharp blade’s no toy.“ I nod firmly and reach out for the sword, but he’s not done yet. "And if you are compelled to use it, make it count. Don’t want any of the scum out there thinking we don’t teach you lads proper fencing here! Harhar!“ Me and many others join him in laughter as he hands me the sword, and I fasten it to my hip.
While Orson steps aside, two of the other menials bring the horse I claimed from the revenant. I’m grateful enough not to have to go by foot, but… really, did it have to be that stubborn nag? Simmias – as if reading my mind – says, "By all rights it should be yours. The steed is strong and calm – a horse prepared even for war. None of its former rider’s evil sticks to it, either, I swear on it.“
I am given the reins, which I take with caution, eyeing the black horse suspiciously. Then Simmias suggests, "It is ill advised to ride it when it has not been named, however. So I’d say you should pick something to call it by now.“
"You best plea for the Gods‘ aid by naming it in their honor,“ Orson offers. Meanwhile, Gart has different ideas, "Why not the name of a girl from the village?“ Not even close to subtle, Gart, I tell him with a look alone. He just wishes he knew if there’s finally someone I’ve taken a fancy to. Not gonna do him that favor, though. "I think I’ve got a different idea… I’ll name this horse Porstellion, in honor of a true hero of Doarnb!“
Gart shakes his head, and Simmias nods his, but they are both smiling – and probably thinking the same thing, "How typical for him to pick a name from his favourite stories.“ Well, to the nag’s credit, it seems as cool-headed as Porstellion – maybe even as courageous, if a horse can actually be courageous rather than too-stupid-to-recognize-danger. Should be fine.
Lastly, there is one more thing I am given. Simmias approaches and hands me a thick bundle of books. "For you to deliver to the other Orders in the area,“ he claims, though we both know that for a lie, even if it were not for his quick wink in my direction. No way these are for anyone else but myself. I can barely contain my grin. That old man is just too nice for this world. I borrow and lose his books, and he actually gives me more of them to read!
He cannot but add a little quip, however, "Though recent events seem to suggest otherwise, I know you will take good care of these.“
"I will! On my honor!“ I promise quickly.
"Then let’s waste no more time,“ Orson says, giving me a heavy pat on the back, "Godspeed to you, Marin. Do us proud out there!“
"You better not be gone for too long!“ Sara cries and jumps me in an almost bone-crushing little-sister-hug. Before I know it, my mother’s got her arms wrapped around me as well.
"Just be careful, yes?“ she pleas, the tears welling in her eyes again. I can’t bear to look at her like this. Maybe… maybe it’s not so good of an idea after all. But the Order is counting on me! This is my first ever travel outside of Welsdorf. I must take this chance!
"I won’t do anything stupid, don’t worry. Before you know it, I’ll be back, safe and sound!“ Still they cling to me a little longer, before they can finally bear to let me go. Sara clutches mum’s hand tightly when we part. Next comes Gart embracing me. He’s got that cheeky grin on his face again.
"Don’t go hunting after every ladyfolk y’find. Only th’pretty’uns.“
"I’ll leave some for you if the circumstances allow for it.“ He gives my shoulder a light punch, then we both laugh. Hendrik helps me into the saddle. As I shift around a little to get comfortable, he says, "Godspeed. I know you can uncover what’s going on in Cardighna.“ I nod at him reassuringly.
"I won’t leave a single pebble unturned.“ The rest of the novices shout their goodbyes at me, as I slowly turn Porstellion around and move away from the Order on his strong back. I risk a look over my shoulder to see all those familiar faces one last time before I go. They’re waving and cheering for me. The small river running through the village is gurgling what sounds like a sad farewell and the huts seem as if covered with blades of gold instead of plain straw. It‘s making my gut boil with excitement and a drop of sadness. This is gonna be a big step.
But that’s enough time wasted with doubts! I lead Porstellion into a canter and off we go into the tunnel of trunks and treetops lining the road, leaving Welsdorf behind us to ride eastward into the unknown.
* * *
"Well… should be at the forest’s edge now any moment“, I mumble to myself a while later whilst studying the map. Trees are sparser around here and there are deep tracks in the road where the carts come from and go to the other villages nearby. The air is growing ever warmer and smells of summer. I let Porstellion move along in a slow gait to just appreciate the peace and quiet.
Turns out it’s short-lived, when a tiny, shrill voice suddenly comments, "If you keep up this pace, we’ll be lucky to have found out anything by winter.“ D… did I really just hear someone? I take a hasty look around, but there’s noone there. I look once more, even turn around in the saddle. Still nothing. "Calm down,“ the voice says, "If that’s enough to almost make you fall from your horse, we’ll have a bad time out there.“
"Who are you?“ I demand, "Where are you?! Show yourself!“ It’s then that I notice a pair of intricately patterned black and red butterfly wings, perched between Porstellion’s ears. There is a dim, green glow coming off of the creature, like a firefly’s. "Finally spotted me, huh?“ the voice says mockingly. As it gets off of Porstellion’s head and flies closer, I recognize it’s not a real butterfly, but really a tiny, green woman... distinctly lacking some clothes. Oh, wonderful, so I actually am going insane. Glad I’ve got enough of my wits about me to figure at least that.
I keep staring at the winged woman in bewilderment, who looks back concerned. "Are you alright? Your face is turning red as a beet,“ she teases, going as far as to lean on the tip of my nose for support with a mischievous grin splitting her face. I wince and pull my head back.
"What the… who… what are you?!“
Her expression grows a little more sour, her red eyes piercing into me. "My name is Sira, thank you very much.“ With a displeased look away from me she adds, "And I’m a víla. A víla, who you just happen to owe your life to.“
My head is spinning from all the questions popping up with every word she says. A víla? I owe my life to her? "What are you talking about? I’m pretty sure I’d remember if I owed you anything.“ For a short while she stares at me like I’ve just said something incredibly stupid. Then she says, "Well, then take a gander at your right hand and think hard. That should help your memory.“
I shake my head, making her finally get away from my nose, though not without an annoyed hmph. I can’t believe I’m going along with this. Well, let’s look at my hand then. Can’t see anything related to a small bug-sized, annoying lady- wait, the red sting! "That was your doing?“
"Exactly. I saw you lying in the woods, about to breath your last breath after that pile of bones had given you a taste of its boot… so I figured I‘d prick you awake a little. Still waiting on that Thank you by the way.“ Just to spite her I delay the words of gratitude a little longer, "Is that why you followed me out here?“
"No~. But there’s this old fellow called Simmias, who thought it would be better were you not to venture out all by yourself into the outside world, where there are tons of possibilities to break your bones for sure this time.“ The surprise makes me forget to get mad at her wording.
"Simmias sent you? You know him?“
"Pfft, don’t have much of a choice with how often he comes into the woods to feed the monkeys!“ The more she talks, the less sense she makes. Simmias feeding the monkeys? Despite Orson’s burning hatred of’em? While I’m still trying to make sense of anything she’s said so far, she continues, "Well, and when he told me about what you found at the beach, he asked me to watch over you…“
She has her arms crossed in the air grumpily and adds, "Had I known this would happen, just because I saved you once, I would have left you to nap forevermore.“ I see that she doesn’t quite mean it and smile at that.
"I just attract people helping me out of a tight spot.“
"You attract danger, s’far as I can see!“ she corrects me. Then she can’t help it and smiles as well. "‘tis but coincidence we always come around to help.“
"Well, then thanks be chance… and you for saving my life.“
"About time!“ she huffs and suddenly slips into one of my pockets. When she notices my questioning stare, she goes, "Hey, keeping a little place for me to rest is the least you can do for your life saviour!“
"Maybe you could do me a favour then and actually wear some clothes?“ She starts snorting with laughter.
"For a passionate reader you know little about us!“ I furrow my brow. "I’ll tell you a little scret! Us víly have got a few tricks up our sleeves… for example a little poison that causes hallucinations even in big creatures like you.“ First time anyone’s regarded me as big. "So when you had gotten yourself beaten unconscious, I stung you to wake you up… and figured if you were to see me, I needn’t scare you more than inevitable. So I thought of this little appearanc for you. Not to your liking?“ Oh, this cunning harlot!
"W-what do you take me for?!“ Though I must admit, she’s got a point – not that I’d ever tell her that! I’d rather know, "What do you really look like then?“
"Believe me, you don’t wanna know. Heard of few people who enjoyed seeing a true víla.“ A cold shiver runs down my spine at that, while all kinds of horrible images flicker through my mind, of slimy bugs, bloated centipedes, with crooked, sharp claws and venom-dripping teeth, hairy legs like stilts, pointed suckers and-
My daily nightmare ends suddenly, when Sira starts laughing again. "It’s so easy to tell your thoughts from just your face. You’re totally ashen!“
"S-shut up, you!“ I snap and turn my attention back to the map. Just a moment later I notice the forest having thinned out even further. Less and less trees line our way, before the road suddenly leads down a hillside in a steep, winding stretch. By the Gods, the view from here is incredible. Enough to make me halt Porstellion for a moment. I am looking at a seemingly endless plane of green meadows full of gently rolling hills. Every village or farm or town looks just like tiny sparks of color with thin, white and blue lines connecting them. And at the horizon I can barely spot the noble, red mountain rage of Ardnas.
So this is it – the outside world! And it’s high time I explored it a little, so I push my feet into Porstellion’s side and race down the road.
* * *
The night has descended quickly. Between all the riding through the countryside, taking in the beautiful landscape and questioning a bunch of farmers and travellers it seems like the sun has set within a heartbeat’s time. Though some certain víla’s constant nagging has ruined almost every moment so precious that I might almost have squealed like Sara does, when she’s especially happy. Whenever I seem to be having a little too much fun for Sira‘s taste, she goes, "You know this isn’t a happy joyride we’re on, right? You’ve got a mission to fulfill!“
Then it’s back to asking around the few hamlets we happen upon. But we haven’t reaped anything but "We know nothing“s – if the people could even take their eyes off of Sira long enough to answer our questions. Not sure what to think of the folks who keep staring at me, even when I’m already leaving. Sira’s not too happy with all the attention either, going as far as to say, "Urgh. I should have just stayed back in the woods and enjoyed as much peace and quiet as one can get there.“
"Are there more of you? Víly, I mean. I’ve never seen any.“
"How’d you know? You don’t even know what we really look like. Maybe some really fat and ugly centipede you stepped on once was actually a víla?“ Much to her amusement, I wince at the thought of anything like that being under my feet. "But yes, there’s a couple more of us. Basically scattered all over the place. We... just don’t like the attention, if I’m honest.“
"And Simmias is your friend regardless?“
"Mine, yes. The other’s... not so much. They think he’s the same as that oaf Orson who’d have loved taking fire to the whole forest because of some nightmares he’s having in bright daylight.“ I look at her sceptically. She is quick to clear her throat and change the subject, "Bunch of bores either ways. I figured I could get away from home for some time. It’s been a while that I’ve travelled.“
Now that’s a surprise. "So you’ve already been here?“
"I’ve been a thousand places, boy. Why else do you think Simmias picked me as your guardian.“
My thoughts slip out of my mouth, "To make sure I have as little fun on my trip as possible?“
"Is that any way to talk to your saviour?!“ She has her arms crossed proudly and glares at me. I don’t like that look in her eyes at all. "Well then, if that’s the way it is, I hope you like getting up extra early.“ I scoff at that, "Yeah? Make me.“
"Oh, you’ll see, I will do just that.“
So, now the night’s dark cloak has been set over the hills, and I am starting to feel that I may have overdone it a little today. My backside’s killing me, and it takes almost all my focus not to have my lids drop down and fall from my horse. Will I just find an inn or something already?!
"Give it up. Just set up camp somewhere nearby and call it a day,“ Sira says as if she has read my mind, "I’ll need you awake and ready on the morrow. First light, you’ll be getting up.“ She has settled into my pocket and is starting to doze off already, her light having shrunk in intensity significantly.
"I won’t,“ I tell her, more to remind myself than her of my resolve. And as if there is a tiny ear out there, picking up my words, I can spot a couple of gables over the hilltop. Yes!
My spirits sink, however, when these gables turn out to belong not to an inn, but just a small farm surrounded to all sides by a low wall of bulky cobbles. Aww, please at least let someone be awake and merciful enough to grant me shelter for the night. I find the small yard in front of the dwelling deserted, however, and there’s not a single light to be spotted behind the closed shutters. Just great. Well, off to sleep by the stre-
"Hey, who are you?“ a girl suddenly calls. Where’d that come from? I don’t see anybody. No, wait, up there on the roof! A thin girl, about my age. She’s still fully clothed, and her dark hair is tied into many small braids to cover the sides of her face. What’s she doing up there? At this hour especially?
"Did you not hear me?“ she insists when I still do not answer, "I asked what your name is and what business you have here!“ Her highness is doing a great job at making me introduce myself nicely. But let’s not jump at someone’s throat for once. As calm as I can, I reply, "Sorry, I’m just a traveller and was wondering if maybe you could shelter me for the night.“
"Does this place appear to be a tavern?“
"No…?“
"Unlikely there’ll be beds to spare for the likes of you then.“ If it wasn’t for a few men’s heights between us, I couldn’t care less if she really was a queen like she’s acting to be and would show her just what the likes of me can do.
Then Sira wakes up. "What’s with all the noise…?“ she asks tiredly from my pocket, "We still riding?“ Her light slowly flares up, when suddenly a muffled gasp comes forth from the girl’s mouth. "Olphe’s mercy! I-is that a will-o‘-whisp with you?!“
"A will-o‘-w- Are you kidding me?!“ Sira bursts, "Do I look like a ghost to you?!“ She makes a start for the girl who’s so scared I’m afraid she will fall off the roof if I don’t step in, "Calm down, Sira! She’s just surprised.“ A little bit more hushed I add, "Like anyone who’s met you today.“
Sira only stops to turn back to me and even with her miniscule size I can tell she’s got her hands on her hips and her lips shoved up in an angry pout. "Well, color me just as surprised! I doze off for just a couple of minutes and already you seem to have met a girl. One day from home, too, you’re a quick one, aren’t you?“ I can practically feel the color fading from my face – then returning in an angry shade of red.
"She’s not- I didn’t- She…“
"I might add, that, as of yet, I am still waiting to just be told his name“, the girl helps in a reserved manner. Sira and I both eye her warily. There is an awkward silence. Just when I am about to break it, Sira does it, "I’m Sira. A víla, not a will’o’whisp.“
"And I’m-“
"He’s Marin, some green boy from the woods.“
"And member of the Poor Knightly Order of Doarnb,“ I add with a huff towards that vile bug, "where we’re taught a thing or two about respect and good manners.“
Griselda laughs at that, and even as she finishes, a wide smile remains on her face. She says, "Maybe I was a little quick on judgement. There might be a place for you two to spend the night after all. If you’re content with a pile of hay in the stables, that is.“ Well… better than the bare ground, I suppose. Though outside I might at least be spared the smell of even more horses than Porstellion.
Just as I am about to take her offer, the front door goes, and out comes a hairy giant of a man who looks every bit as pleased as Griselda a few minutes ago. Meaning not at all. Uh oh. That’s certainly not the farmer by the looks of his leather mail and the weapon at his side. His small, sceptic eyes almost thrust into me. Then I notice… they’re resting on my own sword. Suddenly it feels like the biggest mistake to have taken it with me.
He casts a glance up at Griselda. "You shouldn’t be up anymore. Go inside.“ He turns his glare back to me. I could almost swear I’m staring into the face of a snarling-wolf-turned-human. "I’ll take care of this.“
"N-no, Halsänn!“ Griselda cries, "Don’t hurt him! He’s noone. He just asked for shelter in the barn.“ Not avoiding Halsänn’s eyes out of fear I might miss the moment where he jumps for my throat, I almost don’t notice how suddenly I asked for that noble accommodation. But Griselda’s words actually make Halsänn turn his head once more.
I don’t dare breathe, until he finally speaks again, "Well, if you wanna rise at first light and tell the farmer that before we leave…“
"I will!“ Griselda agrees quickly, "I promise!“ He grunts in response and turns to go back inside. I gather my courage and ask, "So are you also travelling? Where are you headed? Maybe we-“
"None o‘yer business.“ He doesn’t even look at me. "Ye missed out on one beatin‘ already, so don’t push your luck, and go to sleep, boy. Sleep as long as ye can, cause I don’t wanna see yer dumb face again tomorrow.“ None of us get another word in, before the door closes behind him.
Geesh, that was one hell of a first impression.
When I look up at Griselda for any explanation of what that just was, she does but shrug apologetically and mouths a silent ‚Good night‘ before climbing back into the house through the window. I’m left with Sira and Porstellion in the silent night. Oh well, I’ll just make the best of it. Thus, I lead Porstellion into the barn, make sure he’s tied fastly to a pole, and let myself drop into a pile of hay without second thought. Couldn’t care less if it’s this or a pile of feathers, it’s wonderful after all that riding.
I’m already dozing off, when Sira lies down besides my face and asks, "Strange people, huh?“
"Mhm. And perhaps just who we were looking for.“
A look to the North
The sun of Meskardh was merciless. Although the morrow had just come, and it was but peeking over a tall, red dune, its light already felt like fire to the skin, turning the desert sand into fields of hot ashes and the rocks into burning coals. Yet, there remained a place where the sun could not get so easily. To the West, where the mountains loomed high, there was a valley, hidden from sight and sun by walls the Gods themselves had put down. Yet had any man been as daring or stupid as to seek anything in these desolate wastes, he would have seen flurries of bright colors above the bowl of jagged rocks. Meskardh‘s harpies were dancing wildly above their city of Khaz’Ksar’Madr.
And the reason for their dance was inside the building to the city’s North, a tall place built of clay bricks so old they had been scorched black by the sun overtime. Despite its crumbling facade, noone dared question the majesty of its denizens. Thus, few serfs paid the young harpy girl sashaying through the galleries much mind. Spinning around on her claws every tenth step or so, she sent her long, ruby hair and billowing, snowwhite pants whipping about her slender, brown body. From its back sprouted a pair of big, red wings, which she happily stretched, every time she turned around, as if it was the first day she had them.
Truth was, this day was in fact her sixteenth name day already. And thus, all she could think while humming a happy tune and prancing about, was, I am the Xh’máh! It’s me! Today I’m finally a woman!
"My, my, if I didn’t know any better, I’d wonder what makes you so especially happy today, Kora,“ a deep, raspy voice said when she almost ran into the tall, orange-feathered harpyr with lines all over his bushy-bearded face. She was grinning widely, when she recognized him. "Cas’hil Nassalph!“ she called cheerfully, "You’re here early!“
"As if I’d take any chances to get stuck in city traffic with that yattering bunch of sisters and brothers I’m cursed with and miss my favorite Kat’hal blossoming into a woman finally,“ Nassalph laughed and embraced Kora. She could feel that his once well-defined body had turned a little softer yet again and saw that his skin was slowly graying. It didn’t change the fact, that he was her favorite Cas’hil, one of her mother’s six husbands. Often she wondered if maybe, just maybe, he was her true father after all. Not that she would ever find out.
When he set her down again, he joked, "Doesn’t seem like you’re just ready yet, though. Or do you plan on wearing shorts to the ceremony later?“
"Only if we can keep Oltieve from catching me until then.“ Kora made an annoyed face when thinking of her mother. "Says I’m to look my finest when the Madr show me their boys. It’s not like they can refuse me if I choose’em, so why’s it necessary that I dress up?“
"Old, dusty traditions, I’m afraid,“ he said, "And also to make sure they’re awed to silence. You’d not believe just what shite I’d have told your mother, had I actually been able to speak when presented to her. A young, stupid boy’s romantic brabble when he may be betrothed to a future Xh.“ His blue eyes – as blue as Kora’s – were shiney with fond memories. "Probably would have picked me all the same, your mother. Smart gal, she was. Is still. I might not have looked the best...“ He grinned mischievously. "But Kora, here’s what you need to know: There’s more to a man than his looks.“
"His mother’s and sisters‘ numbers to add to my raiding forces?“
"Pah, to the windy wastes with that nonsense!“ he spat, and that put an especially wide grin onto her face. "Exactly,“ she agreed, "Just like I told Oltieve when she came to me with that crap! It’ll be me picking my husbands, not her after all!“ They laughed together at that.
Then Nassalph said, "All this talk of Oltieve... I’d really like to see her before the ceremony. Where is she? Better not be fooling around with that damned Romen.“ Koras smile slowly turned into a frown and a low sigh left her lips. "Cas’hil, have you forgotten again? Cas’hil Romen’s long dead. Two years by now. Same as Ab’ya Shal.“
"O-oh... I... I’m terribly sorry, my dear, I... I’m growing a little forgetful these days.“ She waved it off. He was right, he probably hadn’t been her mother’s most pretty husband on her sixteenth name day – and neither had he been her youngest. Quite the opposite actually. Kora hated every time she was reminded of that.
"There you are!“ another voice ripped her from her sadness to replace it with annoyance. Great, Kora thought, now mama’s found me after all. "I thought I told you to stay in your chambers and wait for me to prepare you for the Choosing later!“ the tall harpy in an elaborately patterned, golden dress, that clung to her subtly curved figure, scolded her. Though twentyfive years Kora’s elder, she looked as young as if she were her older sister rather than her mother. Only thing giving a little bit of insight into her progressing age were her prominent cheekbones and the fact, that she had long stopped growing her hair long and rathered to wear it short as a finger tip now.
Her olive eyes then noticed Nassalph and fluttered their lashes at him. "Oh, hello, Nassalph,“ she smiled, "I should have expected you to be the first to show up.“ He took a graceful bow before her and kissed her hand. "Pleasure seeing you, Oltieve,“ he purred, "I was just talking of you and hoping we could have a minute or two. I’ve awfully missed you while at home.“
"Perhaps later,“ she promised, then turned her glance back at Kora, suddenly fierce and austere again. "A certain wannabe-Xh’máh needs to change into something adequate if she is to attend her own Choosing!“ Kora returned the glare with pleasure.
Nassalph chuckled, "I wouldn’t be surprised if this one grows up into a Xh that does away with keeping all her husbands at home with their quarrelsome siblings and parents.“ Kora’s mother smiled faintly at that and acknowledged the daring quip briefly: "It’s for the good of the tribes, a Xh’s first and foremost concern.“ She looked back to Kora. "And as such she will not defile her coming of age by stirring her to-be-husbands loin too much by showing her legs for all the world to see.“ Kora surrended with a sigh and the roll of an eye, "Alright, alright, I’m coming.“ Waving to Nassalph as she went after her mother, she was thinking, She might get to put me into whatever stupid dress she’s picked out for me... but today’s big surprise will be on her, not me!
* * *
The sun was looming almost right over the round courtyard with the faded mosaic of the Red Magpies‘ family crest, when the Choosing was about to begin. Bright, wooden poles jutted out from the walls all around with colorful banners of Khaz’Ksar’Madr’s proudest tribes hanging off of them and their respective owners sitting atop them, claws wrapped tightly around their seating and wings folded at their back. All but one pole was occupied by the time Kora was carried through the gallery onto the courtyard on a cushioned palanquin, which rested steadily on the shoulders of the Red Magpies‘ four strongest slaves.
Big, round earrings of solid gold adorned Kora, as did a necklace of intricately crafted, golden links, inlaid with diamonds. Her hair had been brushed shiney and tied back into a ponytail, held by a glimmering headpiece with a big orange prism jutting from it. Her freshly groomed plumage seemed to melt into the dark, elegant corset around her belly and her legs were clothed in baggy velvet pants as white as snow. All around her were meek faces, making Kora feel almost like a Xh already, not just Xh’máh. Even Nassalph, who was sitting with his mother’s clan, seemed humbled by her appearance. Maybe these clothes weren’t so bad after all. At least after she had insisted on a personal touch, a tan headband with red-and-blue patterns.
She gave the empty pole only a quick glance. That was just as much of a custom by now as anything else that was going to happen today. It was the pole reserved for the Headwind Tribe, who hadn’t attended a Xh’máh’s Choosing in hundreds of years. They were fine with not accompanying the future Xh on her raids and so was everybody present with not waiting for them and rather continuing the ceremony.
Oltieve, from a gallery above the courtyard, called, "Madr of Khaz’Ksar’Madr, I present you my eldest daughter, Kora of the Red Magpies and as of today, her sixteenth nameday, a woman in her own right, chosen to follow me as Xh of this city, leader of the harpy tribes of Meskardh in all and every matters.“ Kora contained a grin. The fun part was approaching. "Yet no Xh must go on a raid alone or be forced to spend her nights in solitude. She will need loyal advisors, comrades in battle and on travels, sworn to her in blood and flesh, and mates to carry on our proud family as to delight Great Uljha‘ike. Do you hear me, Madr of Khaz’Ksar’Madr?“
"We hear you!“ the oldest women from the tribes, one styled crazier than the other, called as one.
"Then I ask you to aid your Xh‘máh! What will you give to her?“
"No less than our sons and grandsons will do!“
"Let her see them then, so she may choose from among them whom to take for her husbands!“ At that, a serf brought in dozens of young harpyrs, tall and handsome. One moment they were full of confidence, and smiling, certain of their victory. But as her Cas’hil Nassalph had predicted, as soon as they laid eyes on Kora, they grew humble and awe-struck, lowering their heads and kneeling before here.
"Show yourself to me!“ Kora ordered them to raise their heads. Can’t say these old hags haven’t got good taste, she thought, taking in the sights of the boys‘ copper and golden bodies with great pleasure. Kora couldn’t refrain from grinning anymore. With a clap of her hands she ordered her palanquin to be set down, and stepped off of her soft cushions to slowly approach the youths. She had rehearesed every single step with her mother a dozen times to look as graceful as was possible for a mortal.
At the raise of her arms, music began to play from the gallery above, a fast and wild tune that got her feet stirring. One by one, she urged the boys forward, spun around them, followed the rhythm ever faster, as the young men tried their best to keep up with her. They fluffed the plumage on their chests to impress her, stretched their wings and attempted to embrace her with them, but she fled every one of them. Once one boy could not hold with her swiftness anymore, it was the next’s turn, and before she knew it, Kora had danced with every single one of them. Beads of sweat were showing on her skin, and she was breathing heavily.
She dropped back into the pillows and one of the serfs quickly fanned her some cool air, as she caught her breath. Many of the madr were smiling, sure of their sons‘ proven prowess. All those, who were able to wed one of their men with the Xh’máh, would be Madr’Illuhem, councillors and allies to the future Xh and her loyal members on the city council. Those denied would join the Headwinds as Madr’Olharem, the opposition and forced to raid all by themselves.
Kora, once reposed, announced, "These are all fine young men you‘re offering me, proud Madr of Khaz’Ksar’Madr. A tough choice whom to send into the desert rather than having him by my side as well.“ She felt her mother’s glare on her neck. She had given her clear instructions on which boy – and by proxy, which family – to choose. Too bad it’s my decision, if she likes it or not.
"A Xh can only do with the best six, and thus, must choose,“ an elder harpy reminded her. Her feathers were a dark green with black dots all over them, and Kora recalled her name was Zalva, of the Mountain Griphons. "It is tradition,“ Zalva said.
"Yeah, yeah,“ Kora replied with a shrug, "Traditions older than my greatgreatgrandmother.“ As the madr’s eyes widened, she quickly added, "Don’t fret, I‘ll make my decision with whom to share my bed! But not just yet.“ She could hear her mother gasp in shock and saw the confused and offended faces of all the Madr around her.
"But when?! Today is your Choosing!“ one insisted. Kora acknowledged her with a confident smile. "Do you not find it funny?“ Kora pondered, "A Xh’máh just being given things, while our people have lived in these wastes for centuries now, where no blade of grass grows and no sheep stays long? All we call our own, our food, our fabrics, gold and riches – we take it all from others. We let dimwitted peasants and merchants do all the work for us, and when the time is ripe, we snatch their flour and bread and gold, enchain them and do with them as we please. That is what a harpy of Meskardh does, isn’t it?“ Contently she noticed clarity slowly taking root in a few faces. She continued, "I will not just be given a crown and a man – I will take them! I shall prove to you, proud Madr, that I will be the greatest Xh in all of Hesproys‘ history!“
At that one of the old women screamed brazenly, "Us Glimmerfeathers have recently taken by surprise a carawan so big, that our granaries will not run empty for yet another two months! I even heard rumors of the Mountain Griphons daring to raid a few villages in Ardnas. How are you going to trump that, Xh’máh?!“
"Hold your tongue, Helmaie!“ Zalva hissed, when already another harpy began to shout mockeries, only to have the favor returned by another Madr. Their quarrel only died off when, above all their voices, Kora’s laughter could be heard.
"No simpler question answered than that!“ she stated, "I will claim something you lot could only dream of! Something no harpy has ever held in her hands yet. The treasure of treasures. And who’ll help me, will always be welcome among my family, and have his fair share in all the riches I am thinking of gathering for Khaz’Ksar’Madr.“ She looked at the harpyrs. "And of course I will not deny myself to any man either who will prove his fealty to me on this quest.“
"Never!“ Helmaie scramed, "This is not as our ancestors did! We shan’t follow anyone denying our tribe the respect it deserves!“
"Pah, who needs the Glimmerfeathers anyways?“ a harpy of the Cinnobrewings scoffed, "Join the Headwinds then!“ Kora couldn’t pick whose face delighted her more. That of that old crow Helmaie as what she had just done sunk in, or her mother Oltieve’s, when she realized how Kora was playing the city’s proudest crones for childish, petty fools.
"Xh’máh, us Silverclaws will follow you to Hell and back!“
"Don’t make me laugh! We of the Copper Eagles will prove ourselves more than worthy of flying and fighting by the Xh’máh’s side!“ Before long the palace of the Red Magpies turned into a pen of crazed chickens. Even the harpyrs began to speak, vowing on their mothers and Uljha’ike to serve Kora until they ran out of blood to give for her. They swarmed her feet with kisses, went on their knees before her and bowed countless times.
"Seize this madness at once!“ Oltieve screamed suddenly. As if she had thrown a blanket of silence over the entire courtyard, everything went quiet and looked up at her. She glared at Kora with a ferocity the girl had never seen in her mother’s face before. And the words Oltieve spoke next were not adressed to anyone but her, "The Xh’máh has picked a hard trial! A trial which will truly show if she is indeed fit to one day rule this city and all the tribes living within its walls. It is but common courtesy to let her voice be heard and have her tell us just what it is she is hoping to claim as hers that it will dwarf any other treasure.“
"Easy,“ Kora grinned at her mother, unintimidated, "I will claim the Godesses‘ Gift, the Trident of Oreichalcum!“