The Wilting Ballad

17

On the day they were to meet with He who they serve after a year and seven months of ceaselessly fetching, riding in search for Hal'odmrtyu's missing piece, the Foerli rode each their trademark horses, brimming with what they represent, into the castles untainted polished floors of the descendants of Shan in which they were to meet the Ill-Fated One.

Kaionira has always loathed her presence even being here at the spoils of Etharilduk'ail. Birthplace of the empire. The city her greatest enemy had build, where all is made and traded out to Iruil, where every single construction was done by slaves, who carried boulders of emerald kyanite on shoulders, where memories of cruel Shan was praised like he was the hero of the gods.

Physically repulsed to the painting portraits of every Emperor since Shan and, of course, Shan himself hung marvelously on the kyanite walls.

Kaionira gagged, spitting at each and every one of them. Where her saliva had made its mark, hordes of fly now stay. Feasting on the sizzling burn her spit causes. Shick laughs, but as it was, Shick was always laughing at anything. Finding every twisted little thing to be amusing. Come to think of it, Kaionira had no idea what he doesn't find to be, as he put it, 'a good joke for his stone steady heart'.

But if there was one thing she can appreciate about Etharilduk'ail, it was the meticulous, peculiar cravings done every few feet and the grand space every castle and house has to offer. On one corner is a table where a hand-painted vase with a lid at the top stands and its neighbouring vase would be thirty-three meters away.

On the golden lined corners were leftover ornaments from the last Seintzar that span for hundreds of meters until it reaches the vacant Silver Seat of Shan. Corpses of pike-headed guards were sitting beside it. But the Emperor's throne was manless. Not a living soul was in sight.

Their horses sniff, then snorted out the scentless air, fairly bored. They spread out, hooves on the pure kyanite throne room that was bigger than the entire castle of the King in Ozkogul.

Vanacius's fire horse galloped on the rear of the Silver Seat of Shan where a hole in the shape of a door that has no door was hiding, leading to the balcony that sees all of Etharilduk'ail, with a good enough peripheral vision one would see the people busying themselves about like a bunch of misfits ants.

Kaionira's violet-eyed horse slowly paces around, thinking. Shick's ugly quagmire brown horse whose hair was falling off was having the best of time, galloping obnoxiously excited, knocking down the vases one after another on his command. Tentoria's shadow horse remained, not moving an inch, like her rider. She was, too, deep in thought.

"Come. There is only one place He can be if not here." Tentoria said, striding, exiting towards the entrance.

Kaionira felt something, she searched for a thing not here and not what she needed but what she's curious about. "Stop!" She called. Tentoria halted. The two male riders watch them in genuine innocence like brothers did their mother and aunt who are about to have a row. "I've long wanted to ask you something." Tentoria gazes at her with fear, not of her but of what she might ask. "You were the first-ever Foerli... and the oldest of us."

Tentoria smiled sheepishly, "And... He made you our leader. What does age have to do?"

Kaionira nods, indicating them to come closer. She did, as did Vanacius and Shick. "Wisdom. Tentoria." Said Kaionira, "You have aged, obtaining great many well wisdom. He chose you as the first of us for a reason. He may make any of us leader... but I'll wager the world that you are the one He trusts most." Tentoria was proud to hear that said aloud and she didn't hide it, "I am not asking you to tell me anything you do not wish. The choice is entirely up to you and you only." The two male huddles forward near them, "But we have a right to know, I think, who it is we are truly serving. Who is He really, to wield power to bring us back from the dead? We know His aim and will do all in our power to see it achieved. But I. We..." She gestured to Shick and Vanacius, "Want to know. Who is He? How did He came to be?"