CCIV.

The wicrow of Eleanore’s spirit swept its tongue around

Aurianne’s cut-open palm, gulping blood in gluttony.

Lo, a voice interrupts the ritual so suddenly.

The chieftain spurs forwards from the swirling shadows abound:

“Demon, begone! What madness hast thou wrought? I should’ve known

From the moment of that fated night, thou wouldst desert the very bone

Which hath embraced thee!” He shouted at the goddess renowned,

Whose scheme now exposed, alas her web could not be unwound.

CCV.

The dooming deeds have sparked a most despairing destiny.

She laughed: “Ah, but this meeting cherished be! A clan gathering

One last time before the looming conclusion; ‘tis flattering!

Concede, thou hast lost, and I have won! Soon I will gleefully

Bask in beloved blessed flow and carve my new domain

Among the stars, in accordance with the Maven’s orb arcane.”

Audar was shook to the core. He wished to slay the god-entity,

Yet t’was his child’s vessel and love can’t be lost so easily.

CCVI.

He jumped into action: “I cannot let thee create this hell!”

The old chief closed the distance and began tugging at her

Shoulders, stirring her: “My beloved Ríona, deter

This fate! Takest back thy reigns!” Aurianne held control well

O’er the vessel and pulled him off with a single grip ‘round the neck:

“Do not test me! If I please, I’d turn you into a dust-speck!

Little Ríona truly hath grown into the strongest shell,

Alas she squanders potential; skill I’ll use for your death knell!”

CCVII.

“Abandon this act! Leave.” Shouted the goddess ferociously,

Then threw him down onto the ground, but Audar would never

Resign his daughter to this fate. He stiffened in displeasure

And jumped upon her yet failed to pull her down decisively.

He roared: “Wakest up, Ríona! I beg thee, my sweet child

Which I cherish so!” The wicrow began tugging at the wild

Oozing wound of Aurianne’s palm and a tussle effusively

Broke out between them, as the moon peered through clouds icily.

CCVIII.

In the back of her godly mind, she could hear the waking

Of the host and slowly began to calculate her next move.

“Perhaps,” she thought, “for insubordination it would behoove

A price to be paid?” As Ríona began her awaking,

Aurianne let go of the reigns which she so easily held.

A piercing pain rushed through her arm and chest, the burning meld

With a mind-numbing sensation filling her essence shaking.

A gurgling screech followed the gushing blood from the arm quaking.

CCIX.

The red outpour spurted from her left wrist where a hand used to be.

The wicrow lost control upon Aurianne’s departure,

Leaving the battered lass to complete confusion’s torture.

The chieftain bravely battled the beast which was now set free

And gobbling on the torn hand-flesh, yet he was losing ground.

He quickly gazed towards his child: “Ríona, time’s not abound!

We must run and escape! Even bravery begs to flee

When faced with pure evil-harnessed amid its apogee!”

CCX.

Still in complete shock, she did her best to battle through the pain,

Composing herself and quickly closing the wound with flow,

In an attempt to mend it. Standing up – a stumble slow,

Instinctively reached for her dagger and with great disdain

Found it was not in its sheath. Panicked, she called for Aurianne

Who watched distantly, dazed in terror. Her mind overran

With confusion for she hath not foreseen such a gruesome strain.

The all-outcome which she pursued did not foresee this fate-vein.

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CCXI.

Audar kicked the beast backwards and grabbed Ríona by the coat,

Pulling her up: “Fight as I had trained thee!” His voice thundered

As he handed her his short bone-hilted bodkin sharpened:

“‘Tis stronger than all the fiends I faced, it’s song a horrific note!”

The whirling of flesh and feathers, as well as the twirling

Of its lush gold ornaments proved to be disconcerting,

Marking the encounter far more dangerous than the beasts cutthroat

Which she faced during her escape from that tower remote.

CCXII.

As it lunged, he tried to calm it during his dodge to the side:

“Calm, creature! If there is an essence of my beloved in thee,

Please leavest this world and the next in peaceful harmony!”

He looked back at Ríona and yelled: “Movest out and wide!

Once it lunges at me, strikest its spine and endest this blight

Upon the worlds!” Yet he knew where truth stood. Despite his might,

He thought: “Alas, I must meet my fatal fate dignified.

She’ll get a chance once the beast is flesh-sated and pacified.”

CCXIII.

She shifted to her right, scuttling, and sneakily got in place,

With only excitement of her veins numbing the sustained injury.

The dreaded beak lunged at the Chief, who spurred the trickery

Of blade-dance, stabbing upwards. The beast sunk its talons with pace

Upon his arms and shot its beak deeply into his chest.

In panic Ríona missed her cue, jumped on the beast obsessed.

Drawing from her ever-vast reserve of vigour, she stabbed the space

Between the ribs and into the pumping kin-heart of the crow-face.

CCXIV.

It started to rattle and shake; a high-pitched, ear-piercing shriek

Came from it as it began to collapse into a black-feathered clump.

Quickly, she pulled the corpse off her father beaten to a pulp

Yet still alive. She grabbed his hand, pulled him ‘cross her physique:

“Father, what do we now?!” Panic seeped into her frightened mind.

Dazzed, he replied: “There will be more on the way through the twined

Boundary between worlds. Henceforth, safe haven we must seek.

Recoup our losses!” His voice was wispy, grating, and meek.

CCXV.

Progress was a struggle for a good half-hour, whereupon he fell,

Bringing them both to a tumble. Terrified, she shouted:

“Father, please! We must go ever-faster!” Tears had sprouted.

The chief muttered frankly: “No! I cannot my body compel

To go any further, lass! My blood can’t take me as far as thine

Can takest thee… In truth, I had to trade thy fate for mine.

There was no other path to take against that wicked spell,

Not in a fair clash. Not as long as Gods the world impel.”

CCXVI.

Through flowing tears, she begged: “Please, dost not utter such dreadful things!

I cannot leave thee here to be a victim to Flow’s burn.”

He brushed her tears and held her face in his palm to ease concern.

Then suddenly, he grabs her left wrist which still harshly stings:

“This is our tradition, lass!” She jerked in pain and confliction

Yet understood the gesture. He uncovered her affliction

And unsheathed his bone-hilted bodkin from her belt sheath-strings,

Placing it into her hand, beginning the act reserved for kings.

CCXVII.

“Bravery.” His hand atop hers, he placed the blade upon bruised skin.

“Courage,” he pressed it down, “self-sacrifice,” and cut a mark

Across: “I am thy first mar upon thy arm which shall spark

Hope in the hearts of people-folk. This mar by thousands of kin

Shall be joined upon thy life’s end but this one… This one thou willest

Always remember as the first, beloved, daughter blessed.

Kaitríonne, seedling of Eleanore, now-leader of House Whotrin,

I love thee and shall forever be by thy side in spirit serene.”

CCXVIII.

“Takest good care of my chiefdom, sendest my love to thy sister,

Young Viola. She may not understand now but will someday.”

With a sad smile, he gazed into her eyes with nothing more to say.

He kissed the back of her hand dagger-holding with a bitter

Look in his eyes and then closed them. Thus, the chief was no more.

A grieving cry burst from Ríona. The pain cut and deeply tore

Her pounding heart. The lament slowly turned into an aching whisper

As she buried him within a tomb inside a rock-fissure.