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Eamerson placed an open tome on Sten’s upturned palms. Marli looped the chain bearing the image of Dragon and Human, the ancient symbol of unity, over his head and settled it on his shoulders. Her fingers lingered over his heart as she held his gaze for an extra second.
The apprehension in her face was replaced with compassion.
Her touch brought him peace, before he turned to Jori.
Stenlen froze as he met Jori’s calm eyes. Eyes so similar to Kargassa’s, it took him by surprise.
“Sten?” Jori whispered as the silence stretched.
“He’s dead because of me.”
“I’m alive because of you.” Jori said without hesitation.
“As am I. And Elora.” Kymri said.
Sten swallowed and nodded, dropping his eyes to the text.
One more breath. He looked up at all the waiting faces.
The mountain tribe.
Watching him, expressions solemn, waiting for him to speak the words they needed to hear.
The ancient dragon funerary ceremony, granting closure and a peaceful transition from one king to the next.
Looking at their faces, Sten realized they needed this as much as he did.
No matter the conflict, bickering, and confusion in the weeks since Kargassa’s death, this moment was important to every male in this tribe.
He began the recital in a voice that carried across the hall, so that every one of Kargassa’s subjects and guests would know he was being committed to the mountain’s heart.
Sten’s dragon enabled the ancient words to flow from his tongue, as though they were natural and familiar.
When he finished, he returned the book to Eamerson, who should have been presiding over this honor.
Not Sten.
Shoving the errant thought aside, he focused on the next task as he approached Kargassa one last time.
Leaning, he removed the titanium crown from his head with the tribe’s insignia etched into its front. Fingers curling around its edges, he turned to Jori and placed it on his head. Next, Sten removed the chain from his shoulders and placed it on Jori’s.
A collective exhale rippled through the gathered males.
Elora strode forward, unpinning the flower from her dress, and placed it in Jori’s hand. “Queen Regina shares a bloom, bearing the seeds of Aeleftheria’s sacred flower, as an offer of friendship between our nations.”
Jori tipped the flower so that four tiny seeds fell out onto his palm. He dropped one back into the bloom, then stepped toward the stone slab displaying his sire’s lifeless body. He placed the flower in Kargassa’s folded hands.
Finally, he turned to the gathered. “We accept and honor this friendship. One seed shall be buried with the past, while the remainder will be nurtured with care.” He placed the seeds in Kymri’s left hand while he linked fingers with her right.
Goliath led the deputies forward. Together, the males lifted the slab, setting it on a shoulder each.
Stenlen led the way down toward the burial chambers. They stopped before another great oak door with the tribe’s insignia carved into its face.
Jori moved forward, removed the crown from his head, and turned it so its circumference fit flush into the carved central piece. Next, he removed the talisman from around his neck and placed it in the carvings, where it nested within the circlet.
Elora approached, took his hand, and aligned it to the carving, whispering instructions on how to shift only his hand so that his claws were bared. Once they were, Jori spread his fingers to align with the holes and inserted them.
There was an audible click. He grunted, gingerly removing his claws from the holes. Blood dripped from his punctured fingertips. He spoke the ancient words, commanding the door to admit entry. Several more clicks reverberated within the wood, followed by the movement of gears. Finally, it released and eased open several inches.
