In The World Of Losinanda (Completed)

CHAPTER FOUR - Iriel

The first to arrive was Oreamos, wise chief, the leader of Caprican. Iriel wasn't surprised, the Capricans were known for their punctuality in all the five tribes of Losinanda. Now four, since the extinction of the Scorpios. Iriel had often been forced to talk to the wise chief, who was the eldest brother to Iriel's mother, in numerous events yet the huge man had never grown familiar.

"The others are late as usual, I see.", spoke the wise chief, his voice boomed like thunder in the hall. No need to greet your little niece.

Oreamos had a stern face with with sad blue eyes and a big crooked nose. He wore the thickest white fur made of mountain goat skin with huge boots that sent vibrations through the room with every step. The giant man rose seven-feet tall, his stature soundlessly demanded respect. He had a unique pair of horns that grew from the top of his head in a remarkably twisted style following the figure of a wine cup, it reminded Iriel of a Markhor. The rest of the Capricans usually had long spiral horns in V –shape, similar to various antelopes; the tribe were known descendants of the mountain goats.

"A council meeting at such short notice, what could be the cause of such a hassle, chief of Zethriel." The giant leader always called her by her tittle, why does he always remind me of my responsibility? He still thinks I am a naïve child. "Let's wait for the others Uncle Oreamos."

Oreamos took the largest sit, reserved for his grand build. Iriel turned to find him staring at her. Iriel stared back, he didn't look away, Iriel smiled, he didn't. She let out an awkward chuckle, "I am going to see what is taking the others so long." Oreamos didn't respond, his attention wasn't with her, he was absorbed in his usual inner turmoil. Iriel always thought that the Capricans were too harsh on themselves.

She met Mizu, chief of the Mermaids and Pisces of the sea at the entrance. She was as vivacious as Iriel last saw her, dressed in a sheer white dress with a plunging neckline covered by her long black hair. The garment had dense embroidery around the chest and below her waist, leaving the rest of her body exposed; which made it feel intrusive to look at her. Iriel had heard, the mermaids had no use of clothes in the sea so they preferred to dress light on land.

Mizu kissed the air around her cheeks, the woman smelt intoxicatingly good, making Iriel feel nauseous. She remembered a bet she had with Eithiel on Mizu and the mermaids scent. Iriel believed even though they were known as the most appealing in their style they would have a fresh fishy scent while Eithiel insisted they smelt good, specifically a sharp floral scent. Iriel had lost.

Mizu held her face as if she was greeting a toddler, "I have missed you, where is Eithiel? You two never visit us at the shore". The two of them had a twenty years age difference yet the chief of pisces always claimed to have missed her, from the first day they had met. Iriel gathered the woman missed her youth, which Iriel must be symbolic of.

Mizu had a heart shaped face with piercing eyes and thin lips. She was the friendliest and generous of all the clan heads, however overtime Iriel had learnt Mizu could be the most ruthless, conniving and vengeful when wronged, giving her the name; vicious chief. The advisor had warned to be cautious of the mermaids the most. Drowning was the worst form of death.

"I missed you too Aunt Mizu, Oreamos is already in the hall, am sure you two have a lot to reminisce on." Mizu scowled

"Talking to Oreasmos is like talking to myself, he thinks am childish and his words come out seldom like pure molten gold" Iriel smiled. While the mermaids were a water fall in words, the Capricans were the driest desert.

Ovis, the fierce chief, leader of the Ram was the last to arrive, he strode in, buried in a brown wool coat, with a heavy noticeable hay scent, the man didn't waste much time on small talk. He had grown heavier and his round face was already flushed in anger. The pair of thick curved horns that met at the top, growing from the sides of his head, were as thick and scary as ever. The people of Ram were known for their impatience and short temper, Ovis had the shortest.