Iona’s gray tongue slid out to press against the small wounds her teeth had dug into her lower lip, using the light stinging sensation to stabilize her panicking mind.
She was a Xaria, specializing in stealth combat; her mind was trained to handle stressful situations, allowing her to see the options before her to take the necessary actions to fulfill any given task assigned to her, yet here she was, cowering.
Iona had spent weeks at a time utterly alone, and without aid in the Clanless, Wixum, Komath, and even crept unnoticed into the Delthax village at one point to observe their combat strength. She’d fought and killed more Ri’bot and wild creatures than she could count, much less anyone else.
A year back, she’d found a rogue Nalvea troupe entering their land, disembarking along the river, which had been a tough fight, but she’d dispatched them throughout the night. The tale of her actions inspired children and grown warriors alike, acting out the stealth tactics she’d personally developed.
Not a single Ri’bot in her life would so much as say she feared a creature behind her back; none would dare call her a coward after her accomplishments, but this very moment, she knew what it was like to feel dread.
Every Ri’bot knelt before Empress Elinor, The Supreme Chief of the Pits, and for good reason, but Iona’s reaction was for a different individual. The Xaria’s attention was focused entirely on Supreme Chief Iris.
A lump dropped down her throat, forcing her to blink as she caught sight of Iris’ twelve deep red gem-like eyes, glowing with some kind of inner fire resembling the coals smoldering in the Craftsmen’s forges. The temporary darkness only enhanced the ominous impression assailing her psyche.
Tingles shot down her spine, threatening to cause her to shake as each one of the Supreme Chief’s legs lifted and fell, smooth as the oil sliding down Iona’s skin. The sweat beating out of her pores was all in response to this divine creature to her right.
She couldn’t hear what her Chief was saying or the words the Empress spoke in response; only the convicted sentence that gripped her body not ten minutes past kept her attention. It was as if the eight legs of this Thélméthra, this godly spirit in disguise, was wrapped around her heart and mind, imprisoning her in some kind of unbreakable cage.
Iona kept reliving the moment when she knew her life was over, and her accomplishments meant nothing.
Fifteen minutes ago, everything was as it should be, and she knew her world very well. Brola had come to her, relaying a message from her Chief; she was supposed to go scout further into the Lethix territory to discover the current situation.
There had been some bad signs recently, and she knew there was likely trouble, so she was cautious. Slipping into the trees, she’d moved as the smoke, leaving no trace of her passing. Her encounter with foreign troops didn’t take long.
She heard the popping of bones, clicking of teeth, and pattering footsteps long before they arrived; Iona took up a hidden position, high in the jungle upper layers. Very few Xaria would be able to spot her, she knew; in fact, she was confident it would take a Plant Caller to flush her out.
Her heart’s beat slowed to nearly a stop, breath held as she stuck to the underside of a branch, blending into the patterns of the tree.
A small group of creatures was below. The sight of flaming white bones of Quen’Talrat nearly made her lose focus, but she remained utterly still; she could sense dozens upon dozens of Ri’bot leaping around the jungle. It was almost assuredly an attack, but they weren’t silent or swift enough for it to make sense.
The thing that really made her hesitate was Welix; Chief Utren and his brother, the Lethix Xaria, were leading the party. Once more, the shape of the group was more than a little perturbing.
She recognized the figures of Ri’bot and Quen’Talrat, even if they were dead, yet still walking, and the eight-legged creatures were most likely Thélméthra, from what the stories described, but the other three riding atop the terrifying beasts were entirely new to her. She wasn’t even sure if they were sentient or not.
The moment she decided to move, before even twitching a muscle, it happened; the massive Thélméthra vanished without a sound. The fraction of a second it took for her to recognize it was gone, a disembodied voice spoke behind her because she sensed no creature.
The hauntingly, beautiful voice still chilled her marrow. “Too predictable.”
She tensed to push off and flip around, reacting on instinct, but that was dwarfed as a damning sensation struck her; at that moment, her life had been judged, and she knew nothing else mattered; she was dead. A being so far out of her perceptive grasp that she might as well have been mud had turned its attention to her and found her lacking.
Iona fell, body limp as she twisted into a free-fall, catching sight of the most captivating Ri’bot she’d ever seen on the way down; the slim beauty had white skin with mesmerizing glowing blue patterns, watching her fall with an amused smirk highlighting her three perfectly serrated teeth on both sides of her mouth.
Time slowed as everything her mind could generate focused on that individual; the light descending from above the trees looked shabby compared to the enchanting woman.
She’d failed. Not her Chief, no, she’d failed this creature. She was too weak.
Iona didn’t know when, or how, but the next second she was staring up at the thick foliage overhead, standing before the Empress with the lovely Ri’bot Iris standing by her side; the Thélméthra was gone.
She was then told the incredible truth, and everything clicked, yet she still couldn’t get over that one incident.
Her senses finally returned when a strong grip squeezed her left shoulder, causing her to jump; the jungle’s sounds slowly returned as she twisted her hips to look up at the muscular Ri’bot standing before her. “Welix…” She mumbled before bending over to cough.
“Hey,” he whispered, glancing left as the Empress guided Chief Loci back to the river with most of the village in tow. “You don’t seem like yourself? Although, it’s not like I blame you.” He turned back, giving her a forced smile.
The world went black again as she swallowed; Iona’s trembling fingers closed around the back of Welix’s hand, pressing it against her shoulder. “Is this real?”
He didn’t respond right away, jaw shifting to the right as his nose creased. “As much as I want to say everything’s normal … it’s not. What happened between you and Supreme Chief Iris?” He paused as her muscles tightened. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
Her tongue slid over her wounded lips again before taking a long breath. “No, I—I don’t know how to explain it…”
When she trailed off, he put his other hand on her shoulder, guiding her to an extended root to sit. They both relaxed, but her fingers stiffened as he pulled his hand back; they reluctantly closed into fists before she hugged herself.
They didn’t speak for over a minute, watching the throng vanish with Elinor for some purpose. It didn’t take long for them to be the only ones left near the northern edge of their village, everyone else curiously following the Empress, and without Iris’ image before her, Iona’s mind began to calm.
Her focus shot to Welix as he silently offered her a Ragnlar-skin water pouch from one of the bags sewn on his vest. It didn’t help her turbulent emotions that he was the one Ri’bot she actually wanted as a potential partner. No other Ri’bot ever caught her interest; they were too weak to make her feel anything, but all that was pointless now.
She took it, unsealing the leaf stopper to pour it into her mouth; after drinking half the content, she poured the rest over her head. Resealing it, she handed it back.
Iona’s eyes fell to the compact dirt floor while spreading the liquid across her head and down her shoulders. “Thanks,” she whispered.
“Don’t mention it.”
Another thirty seconds passed before Iona said, “Don’t you need to be with your Chief?”
He shook his head, releasing a long sigh. “My brother can handle it; we were only meant to guide them here.”
Iona leaned forward a little more, rubbing her nose. “They really are Supreme Chiefs, aren’t they?”
Welix rested his hands on his knees, head bending to stare at his toes as he pawed the dirt. “Honestly—I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter.”
Her brow creased, sitting up to look at him. “What do you mean, it doesn’t matter? If they’re Supreme Chiefs, then…”
“What?” He asked with a low tone.
“I—I don’t know,” she admitted.
“Right?” He huffed, diverting eye contact. “Did you try to fight them?”
Iona’s mouth dropped open, but nothing came out. When he glanced over at her dumbfounded expression, she began to laugh. It increased until she fell over.
Welix’s forehead creased with concern as he stood. “What’s—going on?”
She couldn’t respond; the question seemed utterly absurd to her. “T-that’s the—the funniest thing I’ve ever heard,” she gasped. “Fight—them?” She repeated while rolling the opposite direction, feeling dirt and mud stick to her wet skin.
“Okay, okay,” he mumbled, dropping back into his head. “I get it—I do … because I did.”
Her mirth slowly died, and she breathed out a long puff of air while righting herself; she sat in the mud, now feeling somewhat disconnected from the whole situation. “You tried to fight Supreme Chief Iris?”
“No,” he whispered. “Actually, I told the Empress that I didn’t want to scar her beauty.”
“That…” Iona’s mind drew a blank. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to ask,” she admitted, folding her legs while looking up at him.
“Are you alright would be a good start,” he grumbled, fiddling with the bottle in his hand.
“Okay…”
“Really,” he growled, shooting her a glare; she shamefully averted her gaze. “You really aren’t acting anything like yourself.”
“I can’t help it … I never felt so—weak. No, no, that’s not the right word … worthless. The moment Supreme Chief Iris appeared behind me and—and showed me a fraction of her power—I knew I was nothing. Everything I’ve worked for—everything I’ve done … it’s not worth anything.”
“Mmh, I don’t know about that,” Welix replied, putting back his pouch before folding his hands behind his head.
Her cheeks darkened. “What’s that supposed to mean?” She snapped. “I can’t even sense her presence … at all, even when she’s standing right in front of me! I’m nothing. I never was anything, and neither were you!”
His tongue glazed his lips before his calm blue eyes met her glare. “Let me ask you something, then. Why did they appear to us if we’re worthless nobodies?”
Iona blinked. “What?”
“Why allow me to fight them—divine beings? What do they gain out of showing us we’re less than dirt? The Empress humored my request and let me fight Supreme Chief Edmon instead.”
“I—umm…” Iona gulped before staring down at the dirt, feeling stupid. “How should I know what the Supreme Chiefs want?”
Welix grunted. “No, you’re right … how would we know? It’s not like we’re Speakers or any other kind of Mystic. No, you and I are warriors, and do you know exactly what Empress Elinor said to me when giving her approval?”
She didn’t respond, waiting for him to reveal the information.
“She said, I will allow one demonstration to prove the difference between us is reflected between heaven and earth. She asked me to show them the strength of mortals, and what did I show them?”
Iona’s nose twisted. “We’re worthless.”
He huffed a humorless chuckle. “No, Iona, but I thought that at first, too. No, we now know what they were trying to tell us from the start.”
“Which is?”
“We need the heavens, and your Elder Chief had an interesting question, but it all comes down to the same thing in the end. We need the Supreme Chiefs if we are going to survive; our clans are failing, and we both know it.”
“We’ve tried,” Iona whispered.
Welix smiled, gesturing in the direction of the Supreme Chiefs. “Look what it’s brought us. Did you hear my brother tell your Chief what the Empress did for our dead, swallowed up in the Ancestors’ Wrath?”
Iona tucked her lower lip under. “Mhm-mmh. I was too caught up in my memory of…”
“Right … well, she confirmed that every one of our brothers and sisters is at peace, resting with the great ones of our past.”
Her eyes widened. “That’s … a direct voice from … that means…”
“Yeah … why would we need a Speaker when she speaks to us with her own words? I’ve also thought about the things they’ve said, and I’m beginning to get a clearer picture of what happened.”
“Why they came down?”
He swallowed, voice turning grave. “Yes … apparently, our distant ancestors sought to corrupt the ways and succeeded.” Noticing her alarm, he added, “There is truth in what we follow, but much has been lost or twisted. The Supreme Chiefs have come down to right the wrongs of our distant forefathers, and all those that believe in her will be saved … although, they may have to suffer for the crimes they committed, which were lost in our past … the Eternal Pits—they aren’t so eternal.”
“Wow…”
Iona couldn’t say anything more; her heart felt like it was going to burst. Every Ri’bot knew someone that had broken their traditional code and knew the fear they all felt when that final journey came, and you met the scales to see if you’d sink or swim. The last crossing through the Great River in the Heavens was an intimidating undertaking that each Ri’bot prepared their whole lives to endure, and now, for such a truth to be put into the light.
Her nerves were beginning to return as hope blossomed in her chest. “Y-you—fought, Supreme Chief Edmon? Which one is that? I couldn’t even grasp the conversation after Supreme Chief Iris stood before me.”
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
“The one in the black armor,” Welix stated, moving to the stream. “He didn’t even try; all he did was walk toward me while turning the very ground into the Ancestors’ Wrath.”
“Incredible.”
“It was … frightening. He didn’t defend himself once, allowing me to attack him with everything I had, and once I’d tried it all … I slipped, and he stepped on my throat.”
Iona’s hand jumped to her neck, feeling it tighten.
“His foot was immovable, stronger than any Torlim, heavier than any boulder. I would have died, helpless, without hope of survival, had not the Empress restrained Supreme Chief Edmon.”
Their attention rose as a young child ran back to them from the crowd as shouts of astonishment filled the air. “Xaria Iona, Xaria Iona!” He shouted. The boy had long been a fan of hers.
Clearing her throat, she rose to her feet, putting on a more confident smile after speaking to Welix. “What is it, Jeffer?”
“The Empress! She—she brought the Quel back to life, and they’re hunting for us. We have so much food now; she says we’ll never go hungry!”
“We’ll never go hungry…” She whispered, turning to Welix as knelt by the stream, splashing water on his face. “I think you’re right, Welix … we have much to be thankful for.”
He paused, turning to give her a sad smile. “We have much to learn; I have a feeling the Supreme Chiefs are not going to just snap their fingers and give us heaven without work. Valdar said he was tested with a few other clans, and that they failed; his clan will face punishment for that.”
Iona’s lips twitched, and the more she talked with Welix, the clearer things became. “If the Delthax failed, then it serves them right. What did they do to fail the heavens? Wait,” she smiled, “were they the cause for the Holy Stones last night?”
Welix rubbed some water on his neck, rising while brushing the liquid off his hands. “I can’t be certain, but I believe it’s just a group of their warriors that were being tested. Komath, Roxim, and Delthax were involved, even the Clavex, from what I heard, but only a single member of their tribe was punished.”
“Wait,” Iona’s brow furrowed. “The Clavex? What business do they have in the valley?”
They locked step, walking after the large group, Jeffer already racing back to see what amazing things the Supreme Chiefs would do next.
“From what I gather, Valdar was calling together a War Council between those tribes to move against us in the coming months.”
Iona’s nose flared. “What? That tongue-cutter! Calling for aid from Komath, Roxim, and if he tried getting the Clavex involved … was he trying to recruit the Nalveans into our conflict?” She slowed to a stop, eyes widening while connecting the dots. “He was preparing to wipe us out completely. They would split our lands between each other, wouldn’t they? Maybe the Clavex would get land of their own again if they managed to get the Nalveans involved.”
Welix slowed, turning to give her a passive stare. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It doesn’t matter? How can … oh, the Empress.”
“Mmh, I don’t think you’ve quite caught the Empress’ words while zoned out. She’s here to unite all the Clans under her.”
Iona licked her lips; her wounds were already closing. “Unite as in…”
“No more Clans,” Welix stated.
“But—but we’ve always had Clans,” Iona mumbled, vision falling to the dirt as she tried to imagine it. “How—what would that look like? Who would be the Chief?”
Welix’s cheeks puffed out. “I don’t know, Iona, but if the Empress says that’s what she’s going to do, we can’t stop her, nor would I really want to. Do you?”
The image of twelve glowing deep-red eyes flashed in her mind, sending a shiver down her spine. “No—no, I won’t.”
“Right, then all that’s left is to follow and learn. I don’t know what it means either,” he muttered, glancing up at their tree houses. “There’s going to be a massive change, though. I just wanted to talk to you since you seemed off.”
“Can you blame me?” She whispered, rubbing her left shoulder. “I’ve—never felt anything like Supreme Chief Iris.”
Welix’s chuckle drew her attention. “If Supreme Chief Iris follows Empress Elinor’s every word, and the same is said for Supreme Chiefs Tiffany and Edmon, how powerful do you suppose the Empress is?”
“... Unimaginable.”
“Yeah, and…”
They paused, sensing a shift in the crowd as it began to migrate toward them; an exhausted-looking Chief Utren led the group with Chief Loci, the Supreme Chiefs following.
Welix and Iona swallowed as they walked toward them. Utren was motioned for them to join the party as they turned, heading northwest. The two of them jogged to rejoin the party.
“Where are we going now?” Welix asked, tone low as they met each other; Elinor and her delegation were five meters behind them with the village bringing up the rear, mumbles sweeping the throng.
Iona joined her Chief, keeping close enough to also hear the Lethix brothers’ conversation. “Where else?”
“Wixum?”
Utren popped his tongue. “That’s the next stop on the list.”
She could hear him taking long breaths to calm his racing heart; the Lethix Chief was fit and not that old, but he was not accustomed to traversing territories without rest.
Loci snatched Iona’s attention as her Chief slapped her surprisingly hard across her shoulder. “Hey!” She growled, rubbing the spot as it began to sting; Loci was one of the few people that could actually hurt her.
Her Chief glared at her, stepping over roots and climbing the steep incline that would bring them to a large hill, falling into another valley. The sheer cliffs marked the edge of their territory, leading up to the Prume Clan high above the shelf. To the far northwest was a path to a sharp rise, Delthax land. However, they would be moving at the base of the ledge along the ravine at the center of their territory, leading upstream to the Wixum’s lake.
Iona momentarily widened her eyes, pushing Loci for an answer to her strike.
Loci sniffed, nose twisting as they continued forward. “So, you were just off having a romantic one-on-one with the Lethix Xaria while history was being made?”
“I what—romantic? I was trying to come to terms with everything,” she hissed, keeping her voice as low as possible, but she knew both Lethix members could hear the jab, making her cheeks flush. “That’s uncalled for,” she fumed.
You know I like Welix! This is just your way of embarrassing me because you feel embarrassed. Were you always this petty? How would you act if a Supreme Chief unveiled a fraction of their power upon you? No … take a deep breath, calm down … everyone’s emotions are high.
Welix softly cleared his throat. “Chief Loci, what did we miss while I caught your Xaria up on some of the events that took place in our village?”
Iona subdued a smile as Welix ran interference. Hmm? Feeling stupid now? No … I shouldn’t be looking to embarrass my own Chief. What kind of situation is this?
Loci’s tongue pressed against her cheek, light blue eyes darting to the Ri’bot. “I see … well, I left Elder Chief Gurali in charge while I’m away—if you were wondering,” she muttered, shooting a glance at Iona before her focus returned to the Lethix Xaria.
“We are,” Loci paused, features becoming impassive as she turned to study the Supreme Chiefs following them; the rest of the Flex Clan had disappeared behind the thick foliage, but their prayers could still be heard, less understood. The emerald flames surrounding the Empress immediately drew the eye “We are following the Empress as representatives of our clans. We are to testify of the things we witness.”
Utren, Iona, and Welix followed her gaze before their focus returned to the path; Iona could find her way through their territory blindfolded.
“What are your thoughts?” Utren asked.
“As I said,” Loci muttered, “history is being made. Say what you will, what we’ve seen already has been—miraculous. Fish—that fish for us … untiring, unyielding, while also keeping lesser predators that might attack our young away.”
A lump dropped down her throat, causing the Chief to blink. “The Empress plans to unite all the clans in the valley, making us one tribe.”
The thought made Iona nervous; she couldn’t imagine how some older generations might feel about the direction. “What about the Elder Chief?”
“My great uncle,” Loci muttered, scratching her cheek. “Internally, I know he’s mortified; it goes against everything he’s ever believed … disbanding all clans. However, the Empress says that’s not what will happen; we’re not disbanding, but merging. We’re taking pieces of every clan and building something stronger.”
Iona instantly caught the phrasing. We’re … Loci’s already accepted it, and it’s just something Elder Chief Gurali must deal with. Things are moving so fast.
Her attention moved to Utren as he mumbled. “The young are celebrating tonight … one clan means more partner prospects; it’s tough for my father, as well.”
Iona recalled the heroism displayed by the past Chiefs of the Lethix and Flex Clans; they’d given everything, including their lives in the fight to secure their futures, and now, they were being told to dispense with all of that hatred and history. Yet, how could they not when the gods descend from the heavens to decree it their will?
As if reading her mind, Loci said, “Anyone that breaks the Empress’ laws is bound to the Pits … publicly there will also be a display of anyone defying the law. There is to be no fighting within the Empire. If there is an issue, then it is to be brought forward to the Court.”
“Court?”
Utren answered. “Explanations will be given once all the clan representatives are gathered. For now, we just follow what we are told.”
They fell silent, and Iona began to realize that even the jungle itself grew quiet as they continued; not a living thing came near the Supreme Chiefs as the skeletal Quen’Talrat and Thélméthra followed.
The Supreme Chiefs made no sound, but Iona swore they were communicating to one another with Supreme Chief Tiffany’s extravagant facial expressions. She couldn’t tell a thing from Supreme Chief Edmon except for the rare instances where he made a gesture or tilted his head as if listening to a conversation. Supreme Chief Iris was impassive as stone, but just her image sent a quake down Iona’s bones.
Empress Elinor, however, was the biggest mystery, now that her mind had cleared. The Empress held a refined posture that was just slack enough not to be called stiff, and the ever so small twitches in her facial muscles gave more questions than answers. A chilling giggle passed through the Empress’ throat along the journey, making them pause, but the Supreme Chiefs just waved them on, continuing their private discussion.
The ways of the heavens are beyond me.
The rest of the journey was made without comment, but they couldn’t keep themselves from glancing every once and a while at the deities bringing up their rear. The nervous cramp tightening Iona’s gut worsened with every step they took as they advanced to the edge of their border. She had no doubt they’d be safe, but the anxiety of not knowing what the Empress would do next continued to plague her.
They tensed as the time finally came; their feet crossed the gnarled blackwood tree that marked the end of their land. She’d known this exact spot all her life; every clan child on both sides knew the signs of which landmarks designated safe territory.
She waited with her three companions, convinced there would be an ambush or some kind of apocalyptic tragedy that would swoop them into the air, and they waited some more, then the moment passed; nothing happened.
The four stood in a stupor, looking down upon the land they’d long dreamed of owning themselves, dazed while looking around for any signs of conflict, but all they sensed was the jungle and the jungle alone.
“Hmm,” Tiffany’s body tilted to the left side as she sat, cross-legged atop the Thélméthra she was using as a mount. “Something the matter, Dears?”
“I just…” Loci trailed off. “I don’t know what I expected.”
Their hesitation ended as Iris moved up a few feet, large body swiveling left and right. “There is no danger whatsoever. Continue.”
They jumped back into action, legs weighing like lead, but the heat of the gaze behind them pushed their numb bodies forward.
We’re invading … with the Supreme Chiefs literally at our back. We can’t lose, yet—why does this feel so off? There’s no resistance. Not even the slightest hint of guards, just as the scouts reported before, but it’s something else entirely to see it in person.
Her eyes scanned the jungle, and found so many new things; she knew every boulder and tree in their territory, but here, where she’d rarely tread, and only in secret, the experience was entirely different. She wasn’t creeping about, but boldly marching right into enemy land.
Feeling a little flutter in her stomach, she reluctantly tried letting go of her trepidation with a forced chuckle. The other three turned to her with raised brows.
“No, no,” she giggled. “I’m not insane … I hope. I just—I never thought I’d really see the day when we could freely walk here.”
Loci popped her tongue a few times before reflecting her smile. “Yeah … and to think that Valdar was plotting such a nefarious act behind our backs.”
“Mmh?” They stiffened as they caught Tiffany’s interest. “Nefarious? Eh, I wouldn’t say that; I mean, it was intelligent, given that your two tribes were plotting to make a move soon.”
They spread out a little to allow themselves to look back at the Supreme Chief; it was a bit unnerving, having your deity question your statement.
“Umm, okay, but...” Welix began to mumble.
“Come now, speak up a little,” Tiffany huffed, pursing her lips to the side. “It’s a little difficult to hear you from all the way up here.”
He cleared his throat. “Yes, of course! Umm—okay, but you’d be alright with them destroying both our Clans?”
“Dear,” Tiffany giggled. “The world is a cruel place, and will often eat the side that isn’t prepared for the punches. If you did fall, then that would be that, and if you prevailed, then hooray! However, I wouldn’t call any action of survival nefarious but simply common sense.”
The four of them swallowed as Tiffany’s hand shot to her mouth. “Oh, my—wait, did I cut into your little pep-talk propaganda workshop to mentally justify anything done to them?”
“I—eh, huh?” Iona mumbled, working through her statement.
Edmon’s deep laugh caught them off-guard. “Tiff, let the mortals be; we have other things to discuss; you have the attention span of a fruit fly.”
That confirmed it; they now knew that this entire time the Supreme Chiefs had been discussing sensitive topics in some divine undetectable manner, and Edmon’s comparison flew right over their heads. The short exchange was the first type of criticism the four of them had heard the Supreme Chiefs lob at one another.
“What’s a fruit fly?” Utren whispered.
His brother spread his hands. “Why are you asking me?”
Supreme Chief Edmon chose to speak up at that moment. “A fruit fly,” he said educationally, “is a tiny insect that is annoying and can spoil your appetite. If they show up in the kitchen, it’s near impossible to get rid of them.”
The Chiefs’ and Xarias’ eyes popped as Tiffany shot the venomous words.
“Annoying and unsightly, am I, and when have you ever cooked?” She stated with a gleam in her eyes. “The comparison falls flat, Honey. Fruit flies don’t sing, hum, or spread diseases; I have plenty of plagues to call upon, and a lovely voice. Why don’t we test some of those on that smug face of yours to see if any stick?”
“You have diseases, huh?” A sound stung Iona’s ears as if Edmon was sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. “Don’t think you meant that like you phrased it.”
“I—Edmon! Don’t be crude.” She huffed, and a light red tint touched her cheeks. “We both know I don’t—gah, you’re impossible!”
Edmon’s helmet turned away, and he exhaled a long puff of air as if knowing what he was about to say would not end well for him. “Hey, at least I don’t have diseases; don’t plan to either.”
“Edmon!”
Elinor giggled as mounts carrying the two bickering deities shot into the undergrowth like Stinger Mites with Tiffany pursuing Edmon in a rage. The four of them swiftly lost track of the pair; Tiffany’s shouts faded into the jungle.
“Should—we continue?” Iona hesitantly asked.
“They’ll join once they’ve calmed down,” Elinor replied in a slightly amused tone.
“Umm,” Loci cleared her throat while turning to address the Ruler of the Pits, licking her lips before continuing. “Would a battle between—between two Supreme Chiefs destroy the world?” She tentatively asked.
“A relevant question,” Iris responded. “No, they are not serious. Although, were they to go at each others’ throats with true intent to kill, then the devastation would be quite a sight.”
“In short,” the Empress replied, “your jungle will be fine.”
They all turned to bow. “Thank you, Empress.”
Iona shut her mouth after witnessing the short exchange between the Supreme Chiefs, and upon further analysis of the incident, she concluded that based on the Empress’ reaction, this was completely normal behavior for the two. If she weren’t considering the persons involved her deities and the possible world-ending tragedy that might occur, the exchange would almost seem cute or endearing.
Once again, I’m reminded I have no clue what’s really going on in the world of the Supreme Chiefs.
The pair rejoined them within three minutes; Tiffany appeared more than a little miffed with Edmon, but he stood upon his mount, arms folded as if nothing had occurred.
Will they make up? How would they do that? Is it with words or … I don’t know! Why is this even a thought? I have more pressing things to concern myself with … unless, did they do that to ease our own tensions?
She turned, studying the two; there appeared to be some kind of internal godly conversation outside of their notice.
No, no, no … no more speculating; just do your job! All I need to do is guide them and be a witness … was I supposed to witness that? Should I tell the others about it? I’m so confused!
The next incident had her head spinning. They stepped into the village of the Wixum, spaced around the massive lake, to be greeted by over a thousand Ri’bot. It seemed like every Wixum member was present, and what shocked her most was the gifts waiting for the Supreme Chiefs; apparently, word had spread.
A path opened up in the crowd, allowing Chief Yimara to step out to greet them. The Ri’bot was no older than fifteen, young for a Chief, but Loci would have also been considered a youthful Chief at twenty-four.
Yimara’s voice was still high for her age, and at the sight of all the moving dead bodies, more than one Ri’bot fainted on the spot; yet, Iona was more than a little impressed that the young Chief didn’t hesitate in the least with her words.
“Welcome, we only wish to talk and understand. The Delthax warriors told us of a powerful enemy that would most likely come after the storm, and that there would be little they can do for us as they prepare themselves. May we have a meal and speak in private, or are we to be destroyed on the spot?”
Everyone’s attention moved to Elinor as the Quen’Talrat’s hand she sat on, rose high into the air. The Empress’ words were clear and distinct. “I have no issue with discussing the reason I am here with the whole body of the Wixum Clan at once.”
A shiver ran down Iona’s spine as a hiss passed through Iris’ plates on her back, and a wave of dread coursed through her body; she couldn’t move. Iris, Elinor, Tiffany, Edmon, and her escort stood tall as every Ri’bot fell to the ground in shock; Iona’s legs wouldn’t support her, but this was only a fraction of what she’d felt earlier.
The sensation left as quickly as it came; not a bird chirped or insect buzzed; all life seemed to halt. Tiffany snapped her finger, lighting a root before tossing it in front of the Empress; her soft voice amplified tenfold, cementing her words in every Ri’bot’s mind.
“I am Empress Elinor, Supreme Chief of the Pits, The One Above All. Kneel, serve me, and you will find happiness within my Empire. Fight, and be slaughtered, consigned to the Pits until you have paid for your crimes. Choose this day whom you will serve.”