Disclaimer: This is mine (and only my) interpretation of one Seeker tribe's branch in the Sagolii Desert. Though it is based on what lore I could find, a majority falls under artistic license.
"A Challenge!"
A solid thunk of iron striking hard packed dirt followed the announcement, drawing curious faces from within lodges. The air was soon peppered with gasps, cries of surprise and disbelief... then laughter.
T'kyiah pushed her way past several of the women, her eyes curious as she ducked beneath an arm and wiggled to the front. A young male stood, chin raised and staring belligerently across the center of the village at her father, T'soren Nuhn. His skin was unscarred, his hair unmatted and a fairly mundane shade of umber, his clothing well-made and clean. His tail fur was thick, his ears erect and unclipped, edged in a darker shade. A chocobo feather attached to his braided forelock fluttered gaily in the breeze- but that was the only movement she could discern from his stance.
Her father, likewise, hadn't moved from his location. Standing strong and proud, shirtless and barefoot near the cookfires, his arms were still filled with the logs he had just cut. His green eyes were narrowed, his tail lowered, but stiff with attention as he studied the challenger for several long moments. A slight gesture towards the younger male near him prompted the boy to quickly begin taking control of the logs, though her brother's eyes obviously couldn't stop shifting back to the upstart standing just beyond the quivering spear buried in the dirt.
Once relieved of his burden, T'soren still did not move immediately. He simply continued to stand looking the young man over, assessing quality and manner of threat. He was a stranger, an unknown...
His head angled to the side, his eyes shifting briefly to gauge the overall response of the village before returning to his challenger.
From the opposite side of the Camp, Kyiah saw the other Sept Nuhn, T'zahk, emerge from his lodge, his eyes narrowed by both the early morning sunlight, and the events unfolding there. He caught T'soren's eye, his head angled to the side questioningly, but the elder simply sketched a minute gesture for him to not engage. She watched as he gave Soren a slight nod of acceptance, his eyes flickering to find her in the crowd. A younger male, Zahk tended to defer to Soren in most matters, which likely had equal parts to do with his interest in her and his respect for Soren as Elder Nuhn. He frowned briefly at her, to which she raised her eyebrow, then looked back at the challenger, ignoring him. From her periphery, she saw him frown a bit more, moving away from the cluster outside his lodge and do the same.
All around her, breeding females were hissing and spitting, heads shaking, tails jerking in agitation and anger. T'kyiah frowned catching disjointed words, 'nuhn'... 'Southern Camp'... 'disgusting'... 'irresponsible'... 'foolish'...
Just beyond, several young mothers were scooping their infants up and secreting them away into lodges.
Many of her half-siblings clamored forward to see, chattering excitedly about the stranger, whereas the few Tia slowly moved into positions to protect.
T'kyiah tossed her head, inching closer, breaking free of the cluster of females and sidling round the camp for a better view. A firm hand grabbed her tail, making her gasp and hiss as she was gently pulled back, her eyes darkening in anger as they met her brother's eyes.
"Kyiah... be still," he hissed as he released her, his own eyes never leaving the young newcomer.
"Hmph. For a moment, I thought you were Zahk. Who-"
He shook his head once, his eyes narrowed dangerously. "T'garin Nuhn."
She blinked. "What?" Her head jerked back to the unscarred male. "He is Nuhn?"
She sensed more than heard her twin's nod. "Southern Camp, three malms distant."
"A small camp then?"
"No." He snorted. "He has no less than fifteen breeding females in his Sept," his words were nearly buried in a guttural growl.
He head snapped around to stare at her brother, but his focus had not moved from the death-stare on T'garin. His teeth were bared, the hair on the back of his head stiff. "Kyri-"
"He is a fool. Father will devour his heart."
"I-" she looked back at the young male, then to her father, who now stood tall. The firelight behind him sparked the red-gold in his hair and fur, casting shadows across the numerous scars and hardened muscles on his torso and the planes of his face. His tail had begun to sway slightly, the smile on his lips growing in what T'kyiah knew to be either that of amusement- or warning.
"Go home, boy," she heard him growl, his tone amused.
"I offered you a challenge, old man!"
Soren raised his eyebrow, looking more amused.
"I know you, T'gerin Nuhn, of the Southern Sept!"
Zahk's voice caused both Soren and the challenger to jerk in his direction. He had slowly made his way to the north-western aspect of the camp, away from all but a few of the older females. Kyiah saw an annoyed grimace touch Soren's face then evaporate. She felt a smirk begin to form, which likewise quickly evaporated at her twin's look in her direction.
"Your presence here is..." Zahk gave Garin a slow, dark smile as he straightened up to his full height.
"Unneeded."
Garin let out a harsh laugh. "What is this? The great T'soren hiding behind a whelp?" He took a step toward Zahk. "I challenged the old man, not you."
"I can understand the fear, Dust-eater," Zahk snapped back, baring his teeth. "But I assure you, age or not- you are less of a match for him than you are me. And I would rip out your entrails to feed the basilisks." He took a step toward him. "Return home while you are still able to serve your females."
"Zahk."
This time, his tone was thick with warning.
The younger Nuhn paused, looking quickly to Soren, then snorted. "This is no true challenge."
Soren shook his head once, his eyes locked on Garin. "It is enough. And it is mine."
He crossed his arms over his chest. "T'garin. You have no business here. Go home."
The murmuring around her rose, the women resuming their hissing and muttering. Kyrin grabbed her hand, squeezing tightly as he pulled her close to his whispering lips.
"She comes."
Kyiah's eyes were immediately drawn to the parting crowd on the north side of the village, which soon disgorged her grandmother and the other Elder females. Her father's mother was small and wizened in contrast to his size, but her eyes were sharp, and her tone even sharper.
"Enough of this. What manner of fool are you to leave your Sept, having just acquired it between your trembling claws. Leaving your females in the dust with empty bellies and reaching beyond your power to control? Tell me, T'gerin, how you plan to protect your rights in two Septs so far apart?"
Gerin's lip curled in disdain, his eyes narrowing as he glared at the Elder. "What business is it of yours, old hag? I will claim this Sept, I will plant my seed in all your women, and I will increase my tribe's holdings."
From the corner of her eye, she saw Zahk move to pounce. She gasped, her own body instinctively moving to stop him. Kyrin's hand grabbed her just as another Tia leapt in front of Zahk, physically holding him back.
"No. You will die." T'leera Jhaeren's aged voice was soft, almost pitying. "You are a fool and your Sept is better without your spawn."
A flash of silver shot past, the blade of the dagger buried deep in the woodpost where T'leera's head had been a moment before. Screams and cries of outrage erupted, those near the Elders filling the area before them protectively, with surges of women and a few Tias rushing forward a few steps toward T'gerin in anger.
"I have no need of your body... or your mind, old woman. Be silent, or once I am Nuhn of this Sept, I will silence you myself."
"ENOUGH!"
As one, eyes turned to T'soren, who stood with teeth bared and eyes dark with fury. His fists were clenched tightly, his body nearly trembling with effort.
"You will have your battle, T'gerin Nuhn," he growled. "You will have your battle and I will take great pride in relieving your females of welping your pathetic and foolish kits. I pray Azeyma you have not yet brought any to seed."
He spat on the ground, then marched up to the spear, grasping it firmly in hand, his eyes never leaving Garin's.
"Prepare."
T'kyiah watched Garin's faint smirk grow into a self-assured, mocking one as he took the spear in hand just above her father's hand. His gaze did not waver either- and she felt a sudden surge of nausea.
"This.. something..." she blinked, frowning. She shook her head once, as if to dismiss an irritating fly. Something wasn't right. There was a sense, a discomfort...
"Hm?" Kyrin was grinning, clearly amused as he watched the stripling fool that dared challenge their father. He licked his lips, his eyes bright with the eagerness of upcoming battle. He loved to fight, and he was very good at it- but had no desire to assume control from Soren. Not yet. But he did enjoy watching their father in action.
"It is wrong... something,..."
She knelt over, shaking her head. Nothing... nothing obvious portended danger. Save the younger man's arrogance and complete confidence in victory, which only seemed illogical and stupid. Facing one with the renowned skill and strength of T'Soren Nuhn, who had held rights for nearly thirty years and defeated over two hundred challengers during that time, Garin should not be so self-assured.
Unless he was a fool, as grandmother T'leera claimed.
But something... in the pit of her stomach... warned her this one was no fool.
As Challenged, Soren was given rights to weapon choice. As Challenger, Garin was given a Three-Step headstart. Soren chose lances and blades, Garin merely smiled.
At the Pinnacle of the Sun, the moment when Azyema's face was cleaved by the Sunstone mounted atop the Temple of Fire and her light embraced the surrounding Danubrite, casting shards of pure white onto the Arena, T'mahlia Rahl, Priestess of Azyema's Eye, lifted her staff and her voice.
She paused, looking from Soren to Garin, then back again, her face unreadable.
"T'Soren Nuhn..."
He ducked his head, averting his eyes with respect.
"Claw and Fire," she stated, touching him with her staff, then turned to Garin.
"T'Garin Nuhn..."
He hesitated, then jerked his head slightly, with a brief aversion of his eyes. The sardonic, slightly condescending smirk still touched his lips.
"Claw and Fire." She also touched him with her staff before abruptly stepping away.
"May Azeyma's Will be Done."
She lifted her staff, then struck it once solidly against the massive ornate bronze disc hanging outside the Temple.
At the sound of the metal, both warriors leapt toward the center of the Arena, rushing to be the first to claim the bladed lances buried in the dirt. Despite his head start, Soren's hands gripped his lance first, wrenching it from the ground in a well-practiced arc that caused Garin to leap back. He let out a low curse as he ducked and rolled beneath Soren's follow-up spinning strike, grabbing his own lance and jerking it from its place just in time to block a downward strike that would have cleaved his skull. He spun his lance, shoving Soren's lance away and catching him on the shoulder as he flipped to his feet.
Now armed, he grinned broadly, gripping his lance with both hands parallel to the ground.
T'kyiah watched silently from the sidelines, T'kyrin at her shoulder. They had seen many of these battles, many defeats, much bloodshed- but each time Soren had emerged victorious, and the challenging Tia bloodied, injured, but living. Shame had only come to those that shamed themselves- T'soren had never treated any of his opponents with insult.
Defeated opponents treated fairly and with respect, he taught, generated the same. The more allied Tia, the more defense for females and children, and the stronger the Sept.
But this one...
She swallowed, watching her father. The tightness of his face, the coldness in his eyes, the economy of his strikes... This one might be different. It was one thing to challenge as a Tia, seeking to make one's mark on the tribe. Seeking to have those that carry on your name and blood. It was quite another to have a tribe- yet seek to claim another out of greed.
T'garin had only been Nuhn of the Southern Sept for four full moon cycles. And rumor had it, the defeated Nuhn had been sickly.
T'soren and T'zakh's Sept was one of the strongest, and largest, Condor Septs in the Sagolii. The Elders were wise, the women were happy, the Nuhn compatible, the Tias well-treated and the children well-fed and healthy. There was no reason to attempt to lay claim to their Sept by another Nuhn.
Success by Garin would only weaken it.
The Elders knew this, the women knew this, but most of all- T'Soren knew this. And, it was something that, as Nuhn, neither he nor Zahk could allow. And as Challenged, it was up to T'soren to deal with it. This one... could not be permitted to continue.
She reached out, squeezing Kyrin's hand, her eyes riveted to the battle. He squeezed back, absently rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand.
"It will be fine, Kyiah. Father will succeed. This one has no chance."
"I'm afraid."
"Why?!" he laughed. "By the Twelve, look at him!"
She shook her head. "I know. I can't explain it, but I..."
He looked at her, his eyes worried. "Are you are dreaming again?"
She looked away quickly, shrugging. "Maybe. I don't know. I don't remember..."
He sighed, squeezing again, casting a grin her way. "Have faith in Azyema, Aya. This one is weak and foolish. He lacks skill- look!"
She saw. She saw Soren catch Garin's staff, flipping it out of his hands before spinning back to blurred spin-strike his gut, back of his knees, and throat. Garin crumpled face-first into the dirt, gagging and vomiting. Soren stood over him, bladed end angled at the younger's neck.
"You never should have come, Garin," his voice carried, despite his whisper.
He convulsed, his eyes raising to stare up into Soren's face defiantly. His eyes flickered to the crescent blade at his neck, then up to Soren, grinning slowly.
T'kyiah could tell by his lip movement he said something, but the wind carried the words away. Her brow furrowed as she looked up at Kyrin for insight-
Just in time to see the shock explode on his face and gasp jerk his body.
Kyiah whipped her head back around to see both males now on the dirt, scrabbling for purchase and blood flowing freely. Soren's lance was out of reach, and the sunlight caught the flash of daggers.
"Wha-"
"He threw something into his face..."
She took a few steps forward, but Kyrin's hand held her back.
"Dirt?" She sniffed the air, then frowned. "N-"
"No," he agreed. "It was fine and sparkled... and seemed to go directly to his face. Kyiah, come back."
She resisted, her eyes darkening as she watched the two bodies wrestling.
"Kyiah-" he jerked, but she flipped her wrist, breaking his grip without a thought.
She moved quickly toward Zahk. "Do something."
His face was tight, his tail and ears stiff and his muscles bunched with desire to do just that. "I... can not," he ground out between clenched teeth.
"You know it is not a true challenge!"
His dark, mismatched eyes dropped to her face, boring into her own eyes with an intensity that made her step back. "It was accepted by Soren! By the Twelve, Kyiah- don't you think I would stop it if I could?! But he accepted-"
He sucked in a deep breath through his teeth, then forced it out, his eyes once more on the fight. His voice was low and angry, but the intense fury had been replaced my dull resignation.
"He accepted and there is nothing I can do."
Kyiah shoved him hard enough to make him sway before turning away.
"Coward," she hissed.
His hand was lightning fast, grabbing her upper arm and whipping her around. His face dark with anger and pain. "NEVER... never call me that- you know perfectly well I'm not."
He shook her violently once, rattling her teeth.
"I am bound," he hissed, inches from her face. "There is nothing I can do."
He paused, his voice and grip softening a bit. "But I assure you, T'kyiah Soren... if Garin survives this night, I will make him regret his birth."
She jerked her arms free, shooting him a glare. "If my father dies tonight, it will not be your blade that ends him."
"He will not die-"
She just shook her head, waving him off, her eyes set on her next quarry.
Priestess Mahlia still stood by the gong, the other Elders clustered near her watching silently. Kyiah looked from face to face, then up to Mahlia. Her face was impassive as she watched the battle raging before her. She did not even acknowledge Kyiah's approach.
"Do something!"
The Elder's grey eyes were calm, emotionless as she continued to watch the fight. "It is in Azyema's hands."
"This is not a fair battle!"
"Azyema knows."
"So you will do nothing?!"
Her eyes flickered to the other Elders, but there was no response.
"It is in Azyema's hands." Mahlia's elderly eyes slid from the fight to land on Kyiah's face. "If Soren Nuhn is meant to succeed, he will succeed. Deception or not."
A myriad of emotions warred for supremacy over her face. "You toothless old crone..." she hissed, then glared at the others, gesturing angrily. "All of you! You know wh-"
"Kyiah!" Kyrin spun her around, his green eyes dark with anger. "You can't speak-"
She jerked herself free, glaring at him a moment before looking back at the Priestess.
"There is no honor in this. Azyema will hide her fac-"
"Have faith in Azyema, young one..." Mahlia smiled benevolently.
"I have faith, but that does not mean I am blind or-"
At that moment, a scream pierced the air.
She immediately looked to the two entwined on the bloodied earth. Neither moved for a moment, then Garin's body fell off of Soren's. Both lay side by side for several long moments as the cloud of dust settled onto the bodies and the ground. A few whimpers broke the silence, quickly shushed. A burble of soft voices, likewise silenced.
T'kyiah stepped forward, scanning the scene. From her periphery, she could both see and sense several others also moving hesitantly towards the two males. Her half-siblings, a few of the women, Zahk...
Kyli's hand touched her back briefly before he moved ahead of her.
Garin's chest heaved in a great gasp, then laughed.
The night was silent in shock for several moments, save the steadily rising laughter of T'garin.
Then a mournful, disbelieving howl of denial shattered it, followed by several more as all around them as the stunned Sept slowly accepted the outcome. Zahk leap forward, shoving paralyzed people out of the way. Kyiah let out a cry of shock and horror as she rushed forward herself, unable to believe what seemed to be true, but was stopped by Kyrin's arm as the swarms of others suddenly engulfed them. His arms wrapped around her waist, holding her tightly against his chest as they were buffeted from all sides, ignoring her as she kicked his shins, hit his arms and peeled at his fingers. Cries and screams, yells and a few yips filled the air. From somewhere to her left, a keening cry rose and fell, followed by sobbing.
Garin was picked up, dusted off, and carried away to have his wounds cared for. A chunk of the crowd followed, consisting mostly of her half-sibling females. Many of Soren's females hovered around in clusters, their eyes wide with shock. The Elders remained in a huddle, conversing quietly with furrowed brows while Grandmother Leera stood stoically gazing at the still form of her son.
Kyiah sucked in a deep breath, grabbed both of Kylin's ears from behind her and stomped solidly on his foot with her sandal heel, jerking downward. He let out a yowl of pain, immediately releasing her in lieu of keeping his ears attached and she rushed forward. She collapsed at Soren's side, her fingers skittering over his blood and sweat slick flesh.
"Apa... Apa Soren..." she touched his eyes, his cheeks, his mouth. She placed her palm on his chest, felt the faint staccato of his struggling heart, though she could not hear or feel his breath when she leaned her ear to his face. A strangely sweet odor drifted upward, a faint glimmer of iridescence atop the faint discoloration to his skin.
She frowned peering intently at his face.
"Apa Soren... I-"
His hand suddenly gripped her forearm tightly. His eyes fluttered open momentarily.
"Go."
His hand fell slack.
She gasped, lifting his eyelid but his iris was already expanding in death. She sucked in an unsteady breath, a faint crease forming between her eyes.
She felt Kyrin drop to a crouch at her side, still rubbing his ears ruefully as he stared at the man who'd sired him.
"He is gone," he murmured after several moments.
"I know."
She heard him shift slightly. "The Elders are waiting to take his body."
"His eyes were blue."
There was a pause, then, "What?"
"Blue. His eyes were blue." She slowly looked up at her twin. "Just after he died... they were blue. Bright blue."
"Wha-"
"Come closer-" she jerked his pants leg, her eyes back onto their father. "Do you smell it? And his skin. " She ran her fingers along Soren's cheek, then angled her hand toward her brother. "Grainy."
"He was blinded by something. Yes- but-"
She shook her head once, firmly, her voice low. "I will kill him."
"That is not your place."
"Spawn take 'my place,' Ryn," she snapped.
"T'kyiah," he said warningly. "Don't."
She sighed, remaining quiet for a several long moments as she studied her father.
"I will not lie with him," she stated evenly.
Kyrin jerked in surprise, then let out a short laugh. "Kyiah... that-"
"You!"
She snapped her head up to see Garin standing at the doorway of the medical lodge. His head and ribs were bandaged, and his arms and torso glistened with the application of salve. She narrowed her eyes.
"Leave that corpse and come celebrate your new Nuhn."
She gazed at him a moment, then returned her attention to Soren. She ran her fingers down his eyelids, closing them fully.
"I said.." he raised his voice to one of command. "Come celebrate your new Nuhn!"
Kyiah traced the line of his jaw, the planes of his face. The pain still pierced her heart, disbelief filling her mind, and anger surging through her being. She heard Garin approaching, but ignored it as she wiped a thread of blood from the corner of Soren's mouth.
"Leave her alone," Kyrin's growl was dangerous. He had not moved from his position at her side.
"You dare speak to me Tia?" The sneer was thick in his tone. "Get away from her- she is mine."
She stiffened, her fists curling slightly just as Kyrin sprang up with teeth bared.
"You -really- don't want to challenge me," Garin smirked, his hand resting against Kyrin's chest, his nails slowly digging into her twin's skin.
"Actually-"
His words were cut off as Garin's body was suddenly knocked free, slamming against the sand with Zakh crouched over him, his hands at his throat.
"This one is NOT yours." His growl was so low, it was almost indiscernible. "Come near her again, and I will rip your ba-"
"Zahk," she touched his shoulder. "Ryn... it's alright," she said softly. She slowly over into Garin's face, struggling to not show the utter revulsion she felt on hers.
"Let him up."
"Yes, Zahkie... obey the pretty girl. Let me up."
Zahk slammed his head once more into the ground, then stood, shooting Kyiah a glare as Garin slowly stood. He took his time dusting himself off.
"Go away."
He blinked, then smiled, looking at Kyrin and Zahk. "Yes, boys... go away."
"I was talking to you," she smiled coolly, her voice still soft as she stared at Garin. "I cannot bear your face right now."
His face froze, then darkened, his hand suddenly rising to grip her face. She heard the immediate growls by her side, but she held her hand out in restraint, meeting Garin's gaze with a glare of her own. "Fine. I will give you now. But tonight, you will bear more than that."
He released her face roughly, then spun on his heel and stalked back into the medical lodge.
Kyiah watched him go, her body unmoving. Zahk crouched by her side, his own eyes following Garin until he disappeared into the lodge. He did not look at her for a long moment, his jaw working soundlessly, then turned to her, touching her shoulder lightly. "I... am sorry, Kyiah."
She nodded once, looking back at the cooling corpse of her father. She waved for him to go.
"I know. You were bound."
"I... was," he whispered, then sighed, rising. "But no more."
Kyrin halted Zakh with a hand, his voice low. "Don't do anything stupid."
He grunted, nodding once, moving past her twin. "He is safe. Tonight."
"Zahk..."
The Nuhn tossed his head to look back at Kyrin with a frown.
"It is not your place. Comfort the women."
Zahk grunted again, then nodded once, his eyes flickering to Kyiah, before heading back to his lodge.
"I will not lie with him," she stated again, her voice still quiet.
"I don't think he is one to leave you much of a choice, Kyiah," Kyrin's voice was just as soft.
"There are always choices."
"Yes, there is Zakh..."
She shook her head, lifting her fingers and rubbing them together. "Zakh has nothing to do with this."
She slowly turned to Kyrin and smiled.
*this character will be on Gilgamesh*
"A Challenge!"
A solid thunk of iron striking hard packed dirt followed the announcement, drawing curious faces from within lodges. The air was soon peppered with gasps, cries of surprise and disbelief... then laughter.
T'kyiah pushed her way past several of the women, her eyes curious as she ducked beneath an arm and wiggled to the front. A young male stood, chin raised and staring belligerently across the center of the village at her father, T'soren Nuhn. His skin was unscarred, his hair unmatted and a fairly mundane shade of umber, his clothing well-made and clean. His tail fur was thick, his ears erect and unclipped, edged in a darker shade. A chocobo feather attached to his braided forelock fluttered gaily in the breeze- but that was the only movement she could discern from his stance.
Her father, likewise, hadn't moved from his location. Standing strong and proud, shirtless and barefoot near the cookfires, his arms were still filled with the logs he had just cut. His green eyes were narrowed, his tail lowered, but stiff with attention as he studied the challenger for several long moments. A slight gesture towards the younger male near him prompted the boy to quickly begin taking control of the logs, though her brother's eyes obviously couldn't stop shifting back to the upstart standing just beyond the quivering spear buried in the dirt.
Once relieved of his burden, T'soren still did not move immediately. He simply continued to stand looking the young man over, assessing quality and manner of threat. He was a stranger, an unknown...
His head angled to the side, his eyes shifting briefly to gauge the overall response of the village before returning to his challenger.
From the opposite side of the Camp, Kyiah saw the other Sept Nuhn, T'zahk, emerge from his lodge, his eyes narrowed by both the early morning sunlight, and the events unfolding there. He caught T'soren's eye, his head angled to the side questioningly, but the elder simply sketched a minute gesture for him to not engage. She watched as he gave Soren a slight nod of acceptance, his eyes flickering to find her in the crowd. A younger male, Zahk tended to defer to Soren in most matters, which likely had equal parts to do with his interest in her and his respect for Soren as Elder Nuhn. He frowned briefly at her, to which she raised her eyebrow, then looked back at the challenger, ignoring him. From her periphery, she saw him frown a bit more, moving away from the cluster outside his lodge and do the same.
All around her, breeding females were hissing and spitting, heads shaking, tails jerking in agitation and anger. T'kyiah frowned catching disjointed words, 'nuhn'... 'Southern Camp'... 'disgusting'... 'irresponsible'... 'foolish'...
Just beyond, several young mothers were scooping their infants up and secreting them away into lodges.
Many of her half-siblings clamored forward to see, chattering excitedly about the stranger, whereas the few Tia slowly moved into positions to protect.
T'kyiah tossed her head, inching closer, breaking free of the cluster of females and sidling round the camp for a better view. A firm hand grabbed her tail, making her gasp and hiss as she was gently pulled back, her eyes darkening in anger as they met her brother's eyes.
"Kyiah... be still," he hissed as he released her, his own eyes never leaving the young newcomer.
"Hmph. For a moment, I thought you were Zahk. Who-"
He shook his head once, his eyes narrowed dangerously. "T'garin Nuhn."
She blinked. "What?" Her head jerked back to the unscarred male. "He is Nuhn?"
She sensed more than heard her twin's nod. "Southern Camp, three malms distant."
"A small camp then?"
"No." He snorted. "He has no less than fifteen breeding females in his Sept," his words were nearly buried in a guttural growl.
He head snapped around to stare at her brother, but his focus had not moved from the death-stare on T'garin. His teeth were bared, the hair on the back of his head stiff. "Kyri-"
"He is a fool. Father will devour his heart."
"I-" she looked back at the young male, then to her father, who now stood tall. The firelight behind him sparked the red-gold in his hair and fur, casting shadows across the numerous scars and hardened muscles on his torso and the planes of his face. His tail had begun to sway slightly, the smile on his lips growing in what T'kyiah knew to be either that of amusement- or warning.
"Go home, boy," she heard him growl, his tone amused.
"I offered you a challenge, old man!"
Soren raised his eyebrow, looking more amused.
"I know you, T'gerin Nuhn, of the Southern Sept!"
Zahk's voice caused both Soren and the challenger to jerk in his direction. He had slowly made his way to the north-western aspect of the camp, away from all but a few of the older females. Kyiah saw an annoyed grimace touch Soren's face then evaporate. She felt a smirk begin to form, which likewise quickly evaporated at her twin's look in her direction.
"Your presence here is..." Zahk gave Garin a slow, dark smile as he straightened up to his full height.
"Unneeded."
Garin let out a harsh laugh. "What is this? The great T'soren hiding behind a whelp?" He took a step toward Zahk. "I challenged the old man, not you."
"I can understand the fear, Dust-eater," Zahk snapped back, baring his teeth. "But I assure you, age or not- you are less of a match for him than you are me. And I would rip out your entrails to feed the basilisks." He took a step toward him. "Return home while you are still able to serve your females."
"Zahk."
This time, his tone was thick with warning.
The younger Nuhn paused, looking quickly to Soren, then snorted. "This is no true challenge."
Soren shook his head once, his eyes locked on Garin. "It is enough. And it is mine."
He crossed his arms over his chest. "T'garin. You have no business here. Go home."
The murmuring around her rose, the women resuming their hissing and muttering. Kyrin grabbed her hand, squeezing tightly as he pulled her close to his whispering lips.
"She comes."
Kyiah's eyes were immediately drawn to the parting crowd on the north side of the village, which soon disgorged her grandmother and the other Elder females. Her father's mother was small and wizened in contrast to his size, but her eyes were sharp, and her tone even sharper.
"Enough of this. What manner of fool are you to leave your Sept, having just acquired it between your trembling claws. Leaving your females in the dust with empty bellies and reaching beyond your power to control? Tell me, T'gerin, how you plan to protect your rights in two Septs so far apart?"
Gerin's lip curled in disdain, his eyes narrowing as he glared at the Elder. "What business is it of yours, old hag? I will claim this Sept, I will plant my seed in all your women, and I will increase my tribe's holdings."
From the corner of her eye, she saw Zahk move to pounce. She gasped, her own body instinctively moving to stop him. Kyrin's hand grabbed her just as another Tia leapt in front of Zahk, physically holding him back.
"No. You will die." T'leera Jhaeren's aged voice was soft, almost pitying. "You are a fool and your Sept is better without your spawn."
A flash of silver shot past, the blade of the dagger buried deep in the woodpost where T'leera's head had been a moment before. Screams and cries of outrage erupted, those near the Elders filling the area before them protectively, with surges of women and a few Tias rushing forward a few steps toward T'gerin in anger.
"I have no need of your body... or your mind, old woman. Be silent, or once I am Nuhn of this Sept, I will silence you myself."
"ENOUGH!"
As one, eyes turned to T'soren, who stood with teeth bared and eyes dark with fury. His fists were clenched tightly, his body nearly trembling with effort.
"You will have your battle, T'gerin Nuhn," he growled. "You will have your battle and I will take great pride in relieving your females of welping your pathetic and foolish kits. I pray Azeyma you have not yet brought any to seed."
He spat on the ground, then marched up to the spear, grasping it firmly in hand, his eyes never leaving Garin's.
"Prepare."
T'kyiah watched Garin's faint smirk grow into a self-assured, mocking one as he took the spear in hand just above her father's hand. His gaze did not waver either- and she felt a sudden surge of nausea.
"This.. something..." she blinked, frowning. She shook her head once, as if to dismiss an irritating fly. Something wasn't right. There was a sense, a discomfort...
"Hm?" Kyrin was grinning, clearly amused as he watched the stripling fool that dared challenge their father. He licked his lips, his eyes bright with the eagerness of upcoming battle. He loved to fight, and he was very good at it- but had no desire to assume control from Soren. Not yet. But he did enjoy watching their father in action.
"It is wrong... something,..."
She knelt over, shaking her head. Nothing... nothing obvious portended danger. Save the younger man's arrogance and complete confidence in victory, which only seemed illogical and stupid. Facing one with the renowned skill and strength of T'Soren Nuhn, who had held rights for nearly thirty years and defeated over two hundred challengers during that time, Garin should not be so self-assured.
Unless he was a fool, as grandmother T'leera claimed.
But something... in the pit of her stomach... warned her this one was no fool.
As Challenged, Soren was given rights to weapon choice. As Challenger, Garin was given a Three-Step headstart. Soren chose lances and blades, Garin merely smiled.
At the Pinnacle of the Sun, the moment when Azyema's face was cleaved by the Sunstone mounted atop the Temple of Fire and her light embraced the surrounding Danubrite, casting shards of pure white onto the Arena, T'mahlia Rahl, Priestess of Azyema's Eye, lifted her staff and her voice.
"Azyema Watches.
Condor Draws Low.
May the Battle be True.
May the Blood run Pure.
May the Mighty be Victorious.
May the Weak be Crushed.
May Our Descendants rise above our Ancestors."
Condor Draws Low.
May the Battle be True.
May the Blood run Pure.
May the Mighty be Victorious.
May the Weak be Crushed.
May Our Descendants rise above our Ancestors."
She paused, looking from Soren to Garin, then back again, her face unreadable.
"T'Soren Nuhn..."
He ducked his head, averting his eyes with respect.
"Claw and Fire," she stated, touching him with her staff, then turned to Garin.
"T'Garin Nuhn..."
He hesitated, then jerked his head slightly, with a brief aversion of his eyes. The sardonic, slightly condescending smirk still touched his lips.
"Claw and Fire." She also touched him with her staff before abruptly stepping away.
"May Azeyma's Will be Done."
She lifted her staff, then struck it once solidly against the massive ornate bronze disc hanging outside the Temple.
At the sound of the metal, both warriors leapt toward the center of the Arena, rushing to be the first to claim the bladed lances buried in the dirt. Despite his head start, Soren's hands gripped his lance first, wrenching it from the ground in a well-practiced arc that caused Garin to leap back. He let out a low curse as he ducked and rolled beneath Soren's follow-up spinning strike, grabbing his own lance and jerking it from its place just in time to block a downward strike that would have cleaved his skull. He spun his lance, shoving Soren's lance away and catching him on the shoulder as he flipped to his feet.
Now armed, he grinned broadly, gripping his lance with both hands parallel to the ground.
T'kyiah watched silently from the sidelines, T'kyrin at her shoulder. They had seen many of these battles, many defeats, much bloodshed- but each time Soren had emerged victorious, and the challenging Tia bloodied, injured, but living. Shame had only come to those that shamed themselves- T'soren had never treated any of his opponents with insult.
Defeated opponents treated fairly and with respect, he taught, generated the same. The more allied Tia, the more defense for females and children, and the stronger the Sept.
But this one...
She swallowed, watching her father. The tightness of his face, the coldness in his eyes, the economy of his strikes... This one might be different. It was one thing to challenge as a Tia, seeking to make one's mark on the tribe. Seeking to have those that carry on your name and blood. It was quite another to have a tribe- yet seek to claim another out of greed.
T'garin had only been Nuhn of the Southern Sept for four full moon cycles. And rumor had it, the defeated Nuhn had been sickly.
T'soren and T'zakh's Sept was one of the strongest, and largest, Condor Septs in the Sagolii. The Elders were wise, the women were happy, the Nuhn compatible, the Tias well-treated and the children well-fed and healthy. There was no reason to attempt to lay claim to their Sept by another Nuhn.
Success by Garin would only weaken it.
The Elders knew this, the women knew this, but most of all- T'Soren knew this. And, it was something that, as Nuhn, neither he nor Zahk could allow. And as Challenged, it was up to T'soren to deal with it. This one... could not be permitted to continue.
She reached out, squeezing Kyrin's hand, her eyes riveted to the battle. He squeezed back, absently rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand.
"It will be fine, Kyiah. Father will succeed. This one has no chance."
"I'm afraid."
"Why?!" he laughed. "By the Twelve, look at him!"
She shook her head. "I know. I can't explain it, but I..."
He looked at her, his eyes worried. "Are you are dreaming again?"
She looked away quickly, shrugging. "Maybe. I don't know. I don't remember..."
He sighed, squeezing again, casting a grin her way. "Have faith in Azyema, Aya. This one is weak and foolish. He lacks skill- look!"
She saw. She saw Soren catch Garin's staff, flipping it out of his hands before spinning back to blurred spin-strike his gut, back of his knees, and throat. Garin crumpled face-first into the dirt, gagging and vomiting. Soren stood over him, bladed end angled at the younger's neck.
"You never should have come, Garin," his voice carried, despite his whisper.
He convulsed, his eyes raising to stare up into Soren's face defiantly. His eyes flickered to the crescent blade at his neck, then up to Soren, grinning slowly.
T'kyiah could tell by his lip movement he said something, but the wind carried the words away. Her brow furrowed as she looked up at Kyrin for insight-
Just in time to see the shock explode on his face and gasp jerk his body.
Kyiah whipped her head back around to see both males now on the dirt, scrabbling for purchase and blood flowing freely. Soren's lance was out of reach, and the sunlight caught the flash of daggers.
"Wha-"
"He threw something into his face..."
She took a few steps forward, but Kyrin's hand held her back.
"Dirt?" She sniffed the air, then frowned. "N-"
"No," he agreed. "It was fine and sparkled... and seemed to go directly to his face. Kyiah, come back."
She resisted, her eyes darkening as she watched the two bodies wrestling.
"Kyiah-" he jerked, but she flipped her wrist, breaking his grip without a thought.
She moved quickly toward Zahk. "Do something."
His face was tight, his tail and ears stiff and his muscles bunched with desire to do just that. "I... can not," he ground out between clenched teeth.
"You know it is not a true challenge!"
His dark, mismatched eyes dropped to her face, boring into her own eyes with an intensity that made her step back. "It was accepted by Soren! By the Twelve, Kyiah- don't you think I would stop it if I could?! But he accepted-"
He sucked in a deep breath through his teeth, then forced it out, his eyes once more on the fight. His voice was low and angry, but the intense fury had been replaced my dull resignation.
"He accepted and there is nothing I can do."
Kyiah shoved him hard enough to make him sway before turning away.
"Coward," she hissed.
His hand was lightning fast, grabbing her upper arm and whipping her around. His face dark with anger and pain. "NEVER... never call me that- you know perfectly well I'm not."
He shook her violently once, rattling her teeth.
"I am bound," he hissed, inches from her face. "There is nothing I can do."
He paused, his voice and grip softening a bit. "But I assure you, T'kyiah Soren... if Garin survives this night, I will make him regret his birth."
She jerked her arms free, shooting him a glare. "If my father dies tonight, it will not be your blade that ends him."
"He will not die-"
She just shook her head, waving him off, her eyes set on her next quarry.
Priestess Mahlia still stood by the gong, the other Elders clustered near her watching silently. Kyiah looked from face to face, then up to Mahlia. Her face was impassive as she watched the battle raging before her. She did not even acknowledge Kyiah's approach.
"Do something!"
The Elder's grey eyes were calm, emotionless as she continued to watch the fight. "It is in Azyema's hands."
"This is not a fair battle!"
"Azyema knows."
"So you will do nothing?!"
Her eyes flickered to the other Elders, but there was no response.
"It is in Azyema's hands." Mahlia's elderly eyes slid from the fight to land on Kyiah's face. "If Soren Nuhn is meant to succeed, he will succeed. Deception or not."
A myriad of emotions warred for supremacy over her face. "You toothless old crone..." she hissed, then glared at the others, gesturing angrily. "All of you! You know wh-"
"Kyiah!" Kyrin spun her around, his green eyes dark with anger. "You can't speak-"
She jerked herself free, glaring at him a moment before looking back at the Priestess.
"There is no honor in this. Azyema will hide her fac-"
"Have faith in Azyema, young one..." Mahlia smiled benevolently.
"I have faith, but that does not mean I am blind or-"
At that moment, a scream pierced the air.
She immediately looked to the two entwined on the bloodied earth. Neither moved for a moment, then Garin's body fell off of Soren's. Both lay side by side for several long moments as the cloud of dust settled onto the bodies and the ground. A few whimpers broke the silence, quickly shushed. A burble of soft voices, likewise silenced.
T'kyiah stepped forward, scanning the scene. From her periphery, she could both see and sense several others also moving hesitantly towards the two males. Her half-siblings, a few of the women, Zahk...
Kyli's hand touched her back briefly before he moved ahead of her.
Garin's chest heaved in a great gasp, then laughed.
The night was silent in shock for several moments, save the steadily rising laughter of T'garin.
Then a mournful, disbelieving howl of denial shattered it, followed by several more as all around them as the stunned Sept slowly accepted the outcome. Zahk leap forward, shoving paralyzed people out of the way. Kyiah let out a cry of shock and horror as she rushed forward herself, unable to believe what seemed to be true, but was stopped by Kyrin's arm as the swarms of others suddenly engulfed them. His arms wrapped around her waist, holding her tightly against his chest as they were buffeted from all sides, ignoring her as she kicked his shins, hit his arms and peeled at his fingers. Cries and screams, yells and a few yips filled the air. From somewhere to her left, a keening cry rose and fell, followed by sobbing.
Garin was picked up, dusted off, and carried away to have his wounds cared for. A chunk of the crowd followed, consisting mostly of her half-sibling females. Many of Soren's females hovered around in clusters, their eyes wide with shock. The Elders remained in a huddle, conversing quietly with furrowed brows while Grandmother Leera stood stoically gazing at the still form of her son.
Kyiah sucked in a deep breath, grabbed both of Kylin's ears from behind her and stomped solidly on his foot with her sandal heel, jerking downward. He let out a yowl of pain, immediately releasing her in lieu of keeping his ears attached and she rushed forward. She collapsed at Soren's side, her fingers skittering over his blood and sweat slick flesh.
"Apa... Apa Soren..." she touched his eyes, his cheeks, his mouth. She placed her palm on his chest, felt the faint staccato of his struggling heart, though she could not hear or feel his breath when she leaned her ear to his face. A strangely sweet odor drifted upward, a faint glimmer of iridescence atop the faint discoloration to his skin.
She frowned peering intently at his face.
"Apa Soren... I-"
His hand suddenly gripped her forearm tightly. His eyes fluttered open momentarily.
"Go."
His hand fell slack.
She gasped, lifting his eyelid but his iris was already expanding in death. She sucked in an unsteady breath, a faint crease forming between her eyes.
She felt Kyrin drop to a crouch at her side, still rubbing his ears ruefully as he stared at the man who'd sired him.
"He is gone," he murmured after several moments.
"I know."
She heard him shift slightly. "The Elders are waiting to take his body."
"His eyes were blue."
There was a pause, then, "What?"
"Blue. His eyes were blue." She slowly looked up at her twin. "Just after he died... they were blue. Bright blue."
"Wha-"
"Come closer-" she jerked his pants leg, her eyes back onto their father. "Do you smell it? And his skin. " She ran her fingers along Soren's cheek, then angled her hand toward her brother. "Grainy."
"He was blinded by something. Yes- but-"
She shook her head once, firmly, her voice low. "I will kill him."
"That is not your place."
"Spawn take 'my place,' Ryn," she snapped.
"T'kyiah," he said warningly. "Don't."
She sighed, remaining quiet for a several long moments as she studied her father.
"I will not lie with him," she stated evenly.
Kyrin jerked in surprise, then let out a short laugh. "Kyiah... that-"
"You!"
She snapped her head up to see Garin standing at the doorway of the medical lodge. His head and ribs were bandaged, and his arms and torso glistened with the application of salve. She narrowed her eyes.
"Leave that corpse and come celebrate your new Nuhn."
She gazed at him a moment, then returned her attention to Soren. She ran her fingers down his eyelids, closing them fully.
"I said.." he raised his voice to one of command. "Come celebrate your new Nuhn!"
Kyiah traced the line of his jaw, the planes of his face. The pain still pierced her heart, disbelief filling her mind, and anger surging through her being. She heard Garin approaching, but ignored it as she wiped a thread of blood from the corner of Soren's mouth.
"Leave her alone," Kyrin's growl was dangerous. He had not moved from his position at her side.
"You dare speak to me Tia?" The sneer was thick in his tone. "Get away from her- she is mine."
She stiffened, her fists curling slightly just as Kyrin sprang up with teeth bared.
"You -really- don't want to challenge me," Garin smirked, his hand resting against Kyrin's chest, his nails slowly digging into her twin's skin.
"Actually-"
His words were cut off as Garin's body was suddenly knocked free, slamming against the sand with Zakh crouched over him, his hands at his throat.
"This one is NOT yours." His growl was so low, it was almost indiscernible. "Come near her again, and I will rip your ba-"
"Zahk," she touched his shoulder. "Ryn... it's alright," she said softly. She slowly over into Garin's face, struggling to not show the utter revulsion she felt on hers.
"Let him up."
"Yes, Zahkie... obey the pretty girl. Let me up."
Zahk slammed his head once more into the ground, then stood, shooting Kyiah a glare as Garin slowly stood. He took his time dusting himself off.
"Go away."
He blinked, then smiled, looking at Kyrin and Zahk. "Yes, boys... go away."
"I was talking to you," she smiled coolly, her voice still soft as she stared at Garin. "I cannot bear your face right now."
His face froze, then darkened, his hand suddenly rising to grip her face. She heard the immediate growls by her side, but she held her hand out in restraint, meeting Garin's gaze with a glare of her own. "Fine. I will give you now. But tonight, you will bear more than that."
He released her face roughly, then spun on his heel and stalked back into the medical lodge.
Kyiah watched him go, her body unmoving. Zahk crouched by her side, his own eyes following Garin until he disappeared into the lodge. He did not look at her for a long moment, his jaw working soundlessly, then turned to her, touching her shoulder lightly. "I... am sorry, Kyiah."
She nodded once, looking back at the cooling corpse of her father. She waved for him to go.
"I know. You were bound."
"I... was," he whispered, then sighed, rising. "But no more."
Kyrin halted Zakh with a hand, his voice low. "Don't do anything stupid."
He grunted, nodding once, moving past her twin. "He is safe. Tonight."
"Zahk..."
The Nuhn tossed his head to look back at Kyrin with a frown.
"It is not your place. Comfort the women."
Zahk grunted again, then nodded once, his eyes flickering to Kyiah, before heading back to his lodge.
"I will not lie with him," she stated again, her voice still quiet.
"I don't think he is one to leave you much of a choice, Kyiah," Kyrin's voice was just as soft.
"There are always choices."
"Yes, there is Zakh..."
She shook her head, lifting her fingers and rubbing them together. "Zakh has nothing to do with this."
She slowly turned to Kyrin and smiled.
