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There Will Be Scritches
There Will Be Scritches Pt.72

There Will Be Scritches Pt.72

---Induction---

---Qorak’s perspective---

I stand beside a fountain, in a square, located in the largest city on any R’qali world, my child in my arms.

I still remember the first time I came to the cradleworld from Kar’ca’qi. It all seemed so… grand! Strolling around places I only knew from history texts and films.

That boy never would have believed you if you’d told him he’d lifebond with a member the Clan Highspire, let alone have a child with her before he even turned [40]!

I spare a glance at the fountain, depicting one of Tcakqaal’s ancestors driving a spear through a rival with her talons, her wings open in a steep dive, her beak open in a fierce screech… Have to say I don’t particularly care for the imagery(!)

My four eyes turn to the sky and I search for my lifemate, long enough that when Victor smirks “’Tsup, Qorrie?” from ground level, it startles me!

I look down to see my wife and the [godfather] of my child, then answer “I’m alright… [’tsup] yourself(?)” causing a grin.

“Did you enjoy catching up with your boyfriends from the Academy?” smiles my wife.

“I did… it was very nice to reconnect. More than I expected had chicks, already!”

“Aww… do you feel you’re less special, now?” quips Victor.

I turn my face down to Tcakak and answer “No… there’s no question that this is the most special chick(!)” causing chittering from my lifemate and laughter from my friend.

“You guys wanna get going?” queries Victor, bending to offer his shoulders to us.

We climb up and he begins wending his way in the direction of an enormous, looming palace, built around a monumental spire of rock!

As we walk, Victor comments “I love those moons!” pointing up at the cluster of three blue crescents framed against the mauve sky “Wish Earth had moons like that!”

“You don’t think a single, ice white moon is a fitting companion to a deathworld, Victor(?)” I ask, mirthfully.

He looks up with a jovial frown and asks “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know… it makes it feel a touch… haunted, maybe?… eery?… like you’ve died and found yourself in an unpleasant afterlife(?)” I smirk.

“Oh, yeah(!) Just the vibe I want for my homeworld(!) Goth-chic hell(!)” he chuckles.

We keep walking and pass a family of clanless traders who’ve built a combination home and shop, [4m] in the air, on the back of a domestic kwarat.

The enormous, flightless animal’s long neck extends another [3m] from it’s back.

“Always felt like I’m gonna get stood on when I have to walk past one of these guys!” says Victor, reaching up to run his hands through the shaggy feathers on the [half tonne] creature’s side, causing it to twist its neck curiously, to look at him “It’s a wonder you guys domesticated ’em!”

“This from a man who saw an a’Teksian mirkbeast and immediately decided she was so cute that she needed to be made pet(!)” retorts my lifemate.

“Touché!” smiles Victor with a [fingergun].

We make our way through the tight streets toward the base of Highspire.

Victor approaches a gate and is challenged by a cadre of guards, every one of them a tall, powerfully built woman, with helmets covering their entire heads save for their beaks and eyes, and clutching spears in their talons.

I would say that all of them together would be no match for Victor but, as he pointed out to me while we talked over Tcakqaal’s convalescing body, he can’t fly!

All they would have to do would be to go airborne and hurl their spears at him from beyond his range.

They balk as they see the Terran approaching and bring their spears forward in readiness (their advantage in flight capability apparently not having occurred to them as none of them look at all like they are preparing to take off!)

Victor stops several metres from the gate guards and Tcakqaal announces us.

“I am Tcakqaal, 27th Daughter of Highspire Peak, here with my lifemate, Qorak, my daughter, Tcakak, 28th Daughter of Highspire Peak, and my friend and my daughter’s [godfather], Victor ‘Cuddles’ Taylor… I ask that you let us pass, that we may be granted audience with my ancestor, Clanmother Raarakot, 6th Daughter of Highspire Peak…”

The gate guards, clearly not expecting any arrivals by land, confer with one another for some moments before two of them turn and, using their spears as crutches, walk forward, away from us.

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Victor begins walking between the two women as the others resume their formation at the gate.

We enter a wide ring garden, extending around [300m] in every direction from the base of Highspire (itself a few [hundred metres] wide).

One of the guards takes off and begins flying upward, presumably to announce our arrival, at the top, clutching her spear in her Talons.

The other leads us to a lift platform at the base of the rockface, meant mainly for transporting heavy cargo from the ground which, for one reason or another, can’t be brought to the top by a craft. On this occasion, the 'cargo' just so happens to be a flightless Terran(!)

Tcakqaal and I take the opportunity to dismount Victor’s shoulder. I can’t think of specifically why but, entering where we’re about to enter, riding the shoulders of a Terran doesn’t seem quite proper!

The platform begins to raise and reveal the sprawling Ra’wakqal metropolis’ skyline. It’s an interesting experience for me, seeing it recede like this without the context of being in flight, either by wing or by shuttle.

We reach the top, well over a [kilometre] from the ground, and are rejoined by the guard who went ahead.

Walking forward, we enter Castle Highspire.

I have my hearts in my throat as we walk down the covered walkways through the lush, immaculate courtyard gardens.

We arrange ourselves with Tcakqaal in the centre, carrying Tcakak, myself to her left and Victor to her right and, for some reason, walking one or two of his paces behind us.

We enter the [throne]room and a herald (clearly chosen for the role due to superior lung capacity and volume projection) announces “Presenting to Her Majesty, Clanmother Raarakot, 6th Daughter of Highspire Peak: Tcakqaal, 27th Daughter of Highspire Peak with her lifemate, Qorak, born of the Clan Qwara’i, their daughter Tcakak, 28th Daughter of Highspire Peak and…” here she hesitates, leaning over to the guard “…what is the Terran manservant’s name?” mortifyingly misapprehending his relationship to us!

“Victor ‘Cuddles’ Taylor.” replies the stoic woman, without turning her head.

“…Victor ‘Cuddles’ Taylor!”

We walk forward, through the cathedralic hall, lined with statues in the image of all the Seventeen. We pass rows and rows of mostly empty perches.

One of the very few occupied ones bears a woman who looks to be fully glaring at us!… I suppose it was a little much to expect that Victor would be made to feel welcome at a ceremony like this.

We approach a raised dais at the end of the hall, beneath the edifices depicting the Mother and the Father.

At the top of the platform is a single [throne]perch, flanked by what must be some of the most physically imposing women in the Clan… none of the guards can claim the top spot though because that would have to go to the woman on the [throne]perch.

If she were to stand on the ground she would be taller than Ms Hunter! She wouldn’t be quite so tall as Jennie but it’s no mean feat for a R’qali to be taller than any Terrans at all (with the possible exception of Ms Petrikov.)

She’s powerfully built with a harsh, almost predatory looking, beak and face.

She’s the only woman on whom I’ve ever seen entirely grey feathers not look like a pretentious affectation of venerability. I know they aren’t natural but I also know that, as what very well may be the oldest living R’qali, she’s earned them a dozen times over!

Clanmother Raarakot, 6th Daughter of Highspire Peak, looks down on my group as we stop before her dais… her harsh, angular face unreadable.

I half extend my wings and duck my head, my wife ducks her head but only extends one wing (the other cradling our child), Victor brings the knuckle of the thumb on his right hand to the left side of his chest and casts his eyes down but does not duck his head.

“Is this man… here by your will, Great Granddaughter?” she finally asks Tcakqaal, accompanied by her pointing her left talon at Victor.

“He is, Great Grandmother.” answers my wife, respectfully.

“Why?” asks the tall woman, her tone neutral and level but every bit as demanding as if she were screaming for an explanation!

“My lifemate and I have engaged this man for a custom of his people not shared by ours. He is my daughter’s [godfather], Great Grandmother. If untimely death should take both me and my husband, the responsibility of raising her would fall to him. As such, we thought it proper that he witness this ceremony.”

Fixing her unblinking gaze on my lifemate, the venerable Clanmother appraises for a few moments before saying “If it is as you say, then I ask that he step forward rather than loitering behind you like a servant.”

Victor says nothing, does not look up nor drop his fist from his chest… he only steps forward a few paces to align himself with myself and Tcakqaal.

Having corrected Victor’s minor breach of decorum (which I’m certain he must have viewed as a respect, somehow) the Clanmother says “I permit you to raise your heads and bring in your wings.”

Tcakqaal and I cease our salutes, Victor brings his eyes up but hesitates for a moment about whether to drop his fist before seeming to take it as having been implied.

“Climb the steps and present my descendant to me.” she instructs.

We comply, climbing the steps to stand before the [throne]perch.

With the height she gains from her perch, the grey feathered woman is still slightly taller than Victor.

She holds out her wings to Tcakqaal who proffers our daughter to her grasp.

Tcakak fusses over being handed to her unfamiliar ancestor.

Please my child! Please behave yourself just for a few moments.

My silent plea goes unheeded as Tcakak struggles with and bites at Raarakot’s alular claws.

The ancient woman does not seem the slightest bit perturbed by my child’s tantrum… if anything, she seems to find it amusing!

After a long examination, the woman pronounces “You have the makings of a fine young woman, here. I dare say, with time, she may be a capable warrior of the Clan… if that is what she wishes.” with seeming satisfaction at the continuation of the strength of her line.

“Thank you, Great Grandmother.” answers my lifemate, respectfully.

Without warning, the ancient woman begins the ceremony we are here for. Grasping Tcakak (still fighting for freedom) with one set of her alulae and touching her forehead with the other she says “I see you, child, and I accept you. Wherever you may fly, this place shall be your home, this Clan shall be your family and I shall be your Matriarch. Grow strong, grow capable, grow wise, do not grow arrogant. Remember that power is not a gift given freely, it incurs a heavy price… responsibility. There is much for you to learn, child, do so always as a proud Daughter of Highspire Peak.”

I release a breath I didn’t know I was holding as my daughter completes her induction into her mother’s Clan.

Rather than handing her back to Tcakqaal, Raarakot gives Tcakak to me and says “I ask now that all, except my great granddaughter Tcakqaal, take their leave. I would speak with her, alone.”