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Killen nodded his understanding before stepping to the edge of the expansive airborne dais.
The air stilled as his hawkstone blazed.
He kept it blunt. ‘My name is Killen. Your hawkstone chosen Kíríga. Tempest Light is long dead at the blade of my koya. He whose fury scorched planets, whose marauding instincts pulverised nations and brought them to their knees, has devoured eternal quietus. His rule was not without strife. For he only listened to the Kírorerô, the omens of potent power and prophecy as told to him by the witchers and curse placers.’
He let his hawkstone unfurl to its full glory on his forehead.
It flooded the plain with an ethereal luminosity so glorious it outshone the sun.
A roar rose from the columns of winged warriors in approval.
He continued, his voice booming over their growing applause. ‘I am now the rightful Kíríga, the Regis on the throne. I come so we may create a new Katáne. One that rejects the old ways, the curses, fury and greed and instead embraces u’kweli, the truth and justice for all our people. Together, we can look to the future with courage and confidence. We look to the vision of Katáne, not just free but united. In facing this novel challenge, we can take comfort and encouragement from the lessons of the past. We know that we all carry differences and that dark forces and treacherous íkan are working to divide us further. We all come from different eyries, casts and houses; we enjoy diverse cultures, distinctive values, and unique attributes. Yet we are far more similar than not. Under krests and quills, we are one people, the Katánian Ka?'m??r?. Harmony can and will be attained between us. I believe no insuperable obstacle can emerge between the coming together of our people. Khiron showed us the way, and his legacy remains. One steeped in the truth that unity is strength. I do not know exactly how victory will be achieved. All I hope and hold onto is that we will accomplish it together.’
After a beat of stunned silence, a roar rose from the Kainôs.
The combined cheer was like a thousand thunderstorms raging in unison, the sound waves reverberating through the air and shaking the planet’s core.
It drowned out all other noise, creating a chaotic orchestration. It was a visceral and potent expression of collective triumph, a deafening symphony that left no doubt as to the magnitude of the moment.
A light misty rain dampened the craggy edges of the vast mountain, where a sleek ship was tucked in between two expansive crevasses.
The cloaked woman waved a hand in front of the hidden console on the surface of the streamlined craft.
An opening slid wide, and she slipped through it.
Seconds later, she marched onto the bridge of her vessel.
Her hands flew across the controls as she woke Sika.
‘Sana’a, welcome back.’
‘Good to hear your voice, old friend. Silence and stealth, so please start up and head to this location.’
She tapped a set of coordinates into the monitor even as the intelligence hushed down.
The unseen ship, cloaked and whisper-quiet, ascended from the snow-covered massif where she’d parked it and tracked towards the Desolation of Karth.
Where it stilled to hover above a scene so majestic, Sana’a held her breath in awe.
Thousands of Sab?r Hawks, Kärds gyrfalcons, Krypós eagles, and Katáne’s entire host of Ka?'m??ric warriors congregated, whirling together in a slow circle.
The haunting music carried her away with its transcendence and heart-stopping chords.
Her eyes drank the sight of her lover, the magnificent Kíríga, hovering over the assembled Kainôs army.
The sight of the great assembly and its even more majestic leader was so formidable that she was hit with an instinctual wave, raising goosebumps on her skin.
Her spine shivered when he spoke in a voice so resonant and resounding that it roared over the plains, searing her soul with every word.
When his rousing call ended, her essence soared with deep emotion.
Without warning, the fluttering sensation dropped lower to the abdomen.
Her heartbeat came to a crashing stop.
Then, it pounded back into rhythm with a roar.
A euphoric, wild ecstasy swelled in her with dizzying joy.
Followed by a nosedive into such profound sorrow that she sobbed out loud.
She inched a hand over her midriff even as her unbidden lodestone emitted an intense beam that lit up the bridge of her ship with blinding light.
She fell back into her seat, gasping, tears falling unbidden.
‘Fokk me.’
One oath, two blades, three tragedies, four slays, seven fates.
THE STORY CONTINUES …
