The Mak Toras Chronicles

Chapter 16 - Reluctance

The halls unwinded to light as Talar traveled through the grand hall. He could hear the arguement through walls away against the clammering of his feet upon stone, leaving echoes behind upon the metal. The closer he got, the more the yelling and debate became more prevalent. No doubt it was about the new-found Mak Toras; a lone soul taken without choice into a new arrangement, away from his own. While it seemed unjust to Talar, he believed in full respect that Deja Kaan was telling the truth. There was an embedded power within the youngling-one that could not rot unto the void's retrieval. Where it came from currently remained uncertain. Luckily, it was saved and recovered from the brink of the same fate that impended upon the youngling's family. Whether it be a gift by a mystical being or by pure coincidence was yet to be decided-all of which ensued in the council's presence as the doors hissed open to the sight of Deja Kaan and the high lords rising from their seats under Talar's presence.
"Talar," Deja Kaan began, only to be motioned a hand to sit. The council drew back into their seats alongside. Talar himself took residence on his throne silently as he eyed every council member. Every one of them appeared as if they were ready to lay siege to the king's ears like serpents shrieking to the call of the queen and her next line of orders. A refuting bunch they were, always debating anything Talar suggested monotonously. Trials back then were tight as it was with the rise of bad blood activity. Of course, there was no guarenteed thought to believe they were easy to convice this time. Between the duty of lordship for his people and the code settled not for each other's views entirely. After all, the code only went so far to ensure serenity within the Legion and its very survival; the war seemed to leech away at their own blood and spirit, along with any rational thinking. Even the council was deteriorating away, driven by desperation as if starvation were not so horrific. They heeded his silence, watching him posture himself to meet their gaze. With an exasperated breath, Talar reorganized his thoughts to tongue.
    "The candidancy of this hall is somewhat lesser of late, my council," he paused, leaning back for comfort, "I do believe you have something to consult to me about Mak Toras, is it true?"
    Deja Kaan looked around the table, weary of the council's response. No doubt it would lead to opinions out of spite of humanity. As strong willed as they were in nature, they lacked perseverance in the long run. Generations upon generations, however, a valuable population would outlast the others in natural selection. Yet the yautja themselves were less than impressed, as if they are still children in the cradle. The first council member spilled his thoughts onto the table like a mess of C'nlip in the third hour of sunset.
    "I believe that has already been made clear, my lord," said the council member, Mar Tiik. His voice was gruff compared to the nonchalant Talar, who  shot him a look of discontent. "Quite frankly," he added, "I'm deeply concerned about your decision."
    The next member rose in compliance to the first. It was as if it were they were turning out of a factory line.
    "It's out of line, your majesty," adding after Mar Tiik, "I understand Deja Kaan wished to integrate this youngling into our hold yet it is not our rightful place to just-assimilate the virtuous on sight." There was a stew brewn around the long table that hosted the meeting. Deja Kaan raised an eye towards the second council member, V'rak. He had been just recruited into the council two years back, and already it appeared as if he was playing too close to the lava fields. Members like him were, to say the least, correct about mant aspects of business that coerced in the council, yet they lacked the conviction that unveiled between fact and fiction. Had it not been for the honor code enacted upon the legion, V'rach would've gone and flung his spittle at citizens of Prime relentlessly. With every refusal to the plan abiding Mak Toras, Deja Kaan grew restless to their discouragement. Talar, meanwhile, kept his mandibles high. He wouldn't let this debate down so easily.
"And just wouldn't it be ok to leave him to die," said Talar sarcastically, "A generation dead and you speak of leaving him?" Just then Mar Tiik rebounded to his remark.
"We have always been vigilant ones, but it is not our incentive duty to take this 'Mak Toras' away from his home. Saving a life at the cost of-,"
A growl sounded in Deja Kaan's throat. Mar Tiik was treading over the fine line of tolerance and brutality of Deja Kaan's standard. Even worse than what V'rak had almost begotten. It was enough to cut off Mar Tiik. One wouldn't dare to enrage the Kaan, they speak of from time to time. A repeat of today's incident kept any warrior back from becoming outspoken. Talar continued at the silence.
    "Like it or not, it is destined fate. He is one full of potential, is he not? I've always admired the ambition of other organisms; we're aren't the only ones, after all," he said assuringly. The council exchanged concerning looks from the table's end.
    "But are you sure if he is willing?" It was Qaros who spoke this time. Sitting amongst the council, he was always a silent member unless a questionable mishap came about; questions that made even Talar second guess himself. Unlike his fellow members, he was humble to almost every situation, no matter how controversial or ugly it got. "I am all for Deja Kaan and your plan to integrate this young-blood, my lord, but I'd keep a watchful eye on him no less."
    "You leave that to me, prelate," said Deja Kaan rising from his seat. "Look, as much as I am just as much as I wish to avoid human affairs, I am willing to pour my knowledge and training into his mind to make him as one of our own. We are all novices at birth until guided unto warriorhood; until we are given a purpose. Whatever it takes, I may discipline and treat him like a son-just as our own. He is in need of a mentor to fill the part of his fallen lineage, thus kindly I shall raise him to be a fighter." He sat back down with a cold sigh. He had no reason to believe the council would consider decision; they were all a hill standing against the wind. Still, the hopes of at least Qaros hearing him out were enough to strike conversation within the few. Yet their final word would dictate the outcome of Mak Toras' fate; there was no guarentee they would accept. The council gathered separately from him and Talar, discussing something unaudible to Deja Kaan. Upon returning to the gathering, he looked anxiously at Mar Tiik to hear his final verdict.
"Very well. We will grant your request to bestow our knowledge to the alleged Mak Toras in your custody. From what you have told us prior, he has some extent of knowledge in the art of combat. Tomorrow, you are to send him through initiations with the rest of the youngbloods. There, we shall see what he's made of-if he survives," uttered Mar Tiik.
"I promise you, councilmen, he will not disappoint, will he, Deja Kaan?" Talar turned to him in compliance.
"He will not. Once he has passed initiations, I will forge him into a champion."