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AR Chapter 390
🕑 Added 2025-05-17 04:58:33 +0000 UTC***
Look, you all have seen the soldiers and militia. You have seen the Red Abbey’s graduates immediately step into positions of power. You have heard of the Synod and Families. You’ve seen their strength and their power, how their Words flow freely from their tongues and their Speaking is constantly growing more and more potent. How do they do it? Is it training? Is it teachers? Is it something else entirely?
Yes! It is the approval of the Gran Verat. With the blessing of a living, present divine being, a mere citizen can become a Speaker in the truest sense. Have you heard of a single High Speaker that was not one of the Gran Verat’s chosen?
No! That is why you must enroll in the Pierali School! Our alumni have a 75% acceptance rate when applying for the Red Abbey or other governmental positions. There’s no need to worry about your future if you have the guts to join with the Pierali School!
–Flyer passed out advertising the Pierali School, a middling tutelage center focused on preparing students for entrance into the Red Abbey.
[Kusi’wi POV]
The Great Hunt would begin soon. Summer was weakening her hold on the mountains, and autumn would return. Then, once he was defeated and winter herself allowed the Great Hunter Illan’Klli to stalk the lands and feed however he wished, his chosen hunters would begin the first Great Hunt in centuries. Kusi’wi bared her teeth in pleasure. Here, high in the mountains, the air was thin and allowed the mind to see the truth. This… was her opportunity to truly establish herself. Yury’yai had only recently stepped down and allowed Kusi’wi to finally step into the Nyust’taa position that she deserved, and now, she could show that her guidance was what her people needed.
With their fur wetted by the blood of the ancient foe, that persistent prey, the Misti Hawar would leave their small Principality and stride out to remind the world of the strength of the chosen hunters! Maybe, once they’d spread through the whole of the Indlovu’s plains, she could see if that forsaken one was worth allowing back into the Hunt. She doubted it, as he had no magic of his own, but if he managed to surpass her expectations, then she’d allow him to be one of her eunuchs.
Pulling her thoughts from the forsaken one, the Nyust’taa turned her attention to the room she prowled within. A dozen representatives of different families lounged where they saw fit. One sat with pride, Ellik’Kwi. He was the scout that’d verified the existence of the Keel, bringing back frills much larger than any she had ever seen. At least, in his excitement, he’d remembered that the first head belonged to her. Somewhat disappointingly, Ellik’Kwi brought the news that, though the Keel he’d slain were larger and somewhat stronger than he’d expected, they remained prey. And that was all that Kusi’wi needed to hear.
“Is there any news from your messengers?” Kusi’wi asked the family heads. Most looked at the others to respond, unwilling or unable to provide any information themselves for her. This… uncooperative, solitary nature of her people would need to be amended. She turned to Aingin’kalu, her recorder of the day. The male looked at her with dull eyes, his tail unmoving and his black fur unruffled.
“What news is there?”
“There has been no change to my knowledge in the past hour.” He spoke softly, but the words still drew Kusi’wi’s ire. He thought her impatient and foolish. A cub that required an elder’s calming touch and a leader’s guidance. What a fool he was, to doubt the Nyust’taa! Even so, she didn’t acknowledge the subtle insult he communicated with his words.
“And has there been any sighting of the little gods emerging unseasonably early?”
“No, my Nyust’taa.”
Now he remembered to show his respect. What a disappointment he was. Her grandmother had insisted that he was wise and competent, but every word that came out of his mouth was insubordinate and patronizing.
“Very well. The thickfeathers are beginning to show the first signs of preparing to migrate, though that time is still far off. As such, we should focus on ensuring our people are not left to their own devices when they are all gathered.”
“Wait.” One of the family heads, Unanki, spoke up. “Did you truly summon every family? My understanding was that we were waiting for merely a few more before beginning the Great Hunt.”
“Then you understood incorrectly.” Kusi’wi replied. She’d deliberately misrepresented to her people what exactly they were doing and how many would be coming. After all, this would be the first Misti Hawar army witnessed on the continent in the past 700 years. It would be magnificent, and she wouldn’t allow her reticent people to stand in the way of their rise to power.
“How will we feed ourselves?” Unanki demanded. “There are no creatures here that we can hunt in a way according to the will of the Great Hunter.”
“Yes, there are.” She replied without giving more information.
“No,” he insisted, “there are no keelish, leviathans, or Beastkin around here. Even if it’s summer, it’s too warm for the insect menaces. If there were any number of the pests from the Veratocracy nearby, then I’d have heard about it. So tell me, where is this mysterious creature that needs culling?”
“It is not a culling,” Kusi’wi corrected him, “it is a change of circumstances that you have not considered.”
“What circumstances could possibly—” Unanki stopped and the fur all over his body bristled. “You cannot be serious.”
“Of course I am. We will hunt the next three year’s worth of thickfeathers this summer. The Nyust’taa’s holdings will be left mostly desolate and without hunting for that time to allow the prey to recover. While that happens, the Misti Hawar will continue to lay claim to the lands surrounding where the ancient prey have settled. There, we can train the youngest in battle against the insects, train ourselves alongside the baby gods, and then, spread inland in a way that the other nations have long forgotten as possible. Before long, the Misti Hawar will reclaim so much of the land that the Keel once thought themselves rulers of, and we will purge every one of the scaled menaces from the continent. The Great Hunt will remind my people of who they are and once were.”
“You… are ambitious.” He replied, the descriptor obviously not intended to be wholly complimentary. The Nyust’taa didn’t care.
“Yes.” She replied. “And I will be successful as well. Now, do hope your people are able to hurry themselves along. If not, then they will find themselves left behind in a land where they are unable to hunt to allow Illan’Klli his natural land’s beauty.”
Her point made, Kusi’wi growled low in her throat, the bubbling sound washing over the rest of her people. They bristled, but they bowed and acknowledged the command she’d made. They would join her on the campaign, and the Keel would be washed from the face of the earth.
Comments
Cole Ford
hold on a second, do they think the kha tif are keel? I can already see an interrogation room with a laughing, bloodied khatif
