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Most were clad in pieces of mind-boggling artistry. From feather and leather bauble skirts to lace-effect jackets and oyster shell paillettes, metallic hirsute jumpsuits and overcoats, the nobles feasted on spectacle—the most chic fashion can get.
Sana’a even spotted a series of giant faux-eagle heads encrusted with jewels.
They bobbed amongst krests, glistening with baubles as the most elite of Katáne society slithered and slunk between booths. Networking amongst each other, jostling for attention and clout.
She searched the rises until her eyes fell on a sharp-faced, birdlike woman.
Her eyes widened as she recognised the cold, dark, small eyes and the slash of a lip set within a pale face. Above her bare skull was an impressive krest of plumes erupting from a neck of frilly ruffs.
She sat with a group of female and male K?'neres, each of their krests shivering with inset diamonds, their fingers encrusted with jewels.
Sana’a huffed in surprise as she noticed a second face.
Kamilla, the koel songbird from her night walk.
She sat separately from the main table, in a smaller section, alongside a weak-chinned man Sana’a concluded was her relative, given their energy.
While Kamilla was a beauty, the man beside her was not, and Sana’a studied his puffed face, bloated cheeks and baggy eyes; he slammed back a few drinks in succession, his expression screwed up with bitterness.
A loud cry sounded high up in the sky.
Sana’a glanced up, as did everyone in the coliseum.
Whatever was out there was scarcely visible to the naked eye.
Her keen eyesight extended past the firmament’s ultraviolet band, which she used to make out a dark shadow against the hot white sky.
A wedge-tailed eagle was soaring without wingbeat, circling on the thermal currents rising from the substratum below.
It swooped, hurtling toward the arena, almost slamming into the surface.
With agile ease, it righted itself and rushed at the rises, brushing them with the tips of its giant pinions, causing panic amongst the spectators.
Some responded with aggressive swipes of their wings, engaging in noisy calling, presumably meant to disorient the swooping predator.
In response, it rolled in the air, displaying its lethal, sharp talons before floating to the ground as the onlookers whooped at the theatrics.
On touching the surface, the immense eagle transmuted.
Its tremendous wingspan melding away to reveal an older, attractive, muscled ex-warrior.
He sported silver and black hair and a flowing beard of the same hue.
‘My name is K?stian, the K?thi Guild Master and host of tonight’s events,’ his voice boomed. ‘I welcome you to the Sab?r Arena. Today’s match features two fighters who’ve never bouted previously. Kysin, a former Imperial Hawk,’ he called out, pointing to the brooding friar, whose blades were now gripped in his hands.
The monk stepped forward as Sana’a kept her eyes fixed on him. ‘I fight for honour,’ he growled to the thunderous reception of the masses.
‘Kysin fights Sana’a, the Shotelai.’
K?stian gestured at her to speak, to state her mission.
‘I clash for schills.’
Her plain pronouncement had the stadium aflutter.
Some roared out in laughter at her audacity, and others twisted their mouths and beaks in consternation.
Speaking out loud about the nefarious, high-stakes nature of the match arena was improper.
