Bird of a Flock (Bow 2) - Chapter 42: Chapter 42

The entire link vibrated with approval. It wrapped itself around the brave human who would put his life in their hands and covered him with its love and joy. It took a brave man to put their lives in the hands of the first Winglord and those who had chosen to hide this secret. People who had not liked humans and declared them animals.
"Do you speak ritualistic k'nairi?" Tai'ray asked, knowing the answer but feeling the need to make it clear to those who were disapproving as such as the link approved. He lifted his hand and offered it, still covered with the blood of his foe, to Herymi. A challenge in its own right to see if the man would flinch at such an action. Humans didn't offer an open hand while it was covered in the gore of another. Not sane ones typically.
"Yes Winglord," Herymi nodded, walking forward without fear sparking layers of approval from the warriors' circle. "I was taught when the villagers found me in the forest," he spoke in fluent k'nairi. He dipped his head almost in embarrassment. "Joys of being the adoptive son of a Guardian," he smiled softly, stating who he was. As much as Ryraso was a healer, Herymi was the son of a Guardian and while that did not make him a noble by any means, it gave him respect.
"Then kneel and swear your loyalty," Tai'ray commanded.
"Any clues to the wording?" Herymi asked, looking at Nel'os, who shrugged. "Helpful," he muttered as he knelt seemingly uncaringly of the blood pooling.  The link sang with amusement at the jibe. Herymi was not afraid.
"It just said it had to be from the heart," Nel'os explained, a smile on his lips.
"From the heart?" Herymi frowned for a moment, thinking carefully, before a soft smile appeared on his face. He shifted to one knee, and offered his arm in the way he would have done if he was swearing an oath in front of Inai. His left arm under his right to support it, the vulnerable flesh bared upwards with a tattoo of a crow clear to see.
"I owe the k'nairi my life. I have done for a long time and I have been foolish in the way I have thanked you for it," Hermyi paused, glancing over at O'chetur. The man was not so much being held back as members of the guard were now next to him in case he lost his nerve. Herymi's smile turned sad as he continued. "The ones who brought me into this world, were also ones who drove me out. Though now I know not for the reasons I had feared. Whether this is an acceptable reason to you, I am not sure. But I do wish to make it up to the k'nairi, if you will let me?"
"Swear you will never leave with the intention of never returning again and we shall forgive you," the link spoke.
Herymi's eyes met Tai'ray's, widening as he heard the word 'we' used. The Winglord's eyes practically glowing with the link. The Winglord reached out and grasped his forearm. Power shot through him, leaving what felt like static electricity sparking from his fingertips and his lungs breathless. If he hadn't already been on one knee, he would have fallen anyway. The entirety of the k'nairi were judging his words, his words and his worth.
"I swear upon my honour," Herymi said unable to look away from the link. There were no real words to describe the sensation. Overwhelming seemed an inadequate word for the sensations running through him at that moment.
The Winglord's talons slid through Herymi's tender flesh, cutting one line down his forearm and letting blood drop down to the floor. Herymi didn't flinch, or yell in pain, too entranced by the link to notice the pain. "Then we acknowledge you Herymi as part of us," The words were spoken with the same tremendous power which had rippled through the room as the Winglord had declared himself the ruler. The tone of absolute truth. Herymi's red blood on his fingers, Tai'ray traced two wings on the man's forehead, "Now and forever."
A warm golden light flowed into the room down onto the two men. The blood disappeared from his forehead and an almost silver glimmer replaced it. The symbol of the k'nairi lightly imprinted in the forehead of the Herymi. So lightly that in most lights it wouldn't show. But occasionally it would be apparent.
The illusion that had Herymi transfixed shattered and he blinked twice, before looking down at his arm. The injury was healed up with no signs it had ever been there in the first place.
Tai'ray smirked, grabbing the man's hand and pulling him up to his feet. "Why would the link demand a wound upon its subjects?" he asked Herymi, speaking in human tongue through the magic of the link was still dancing around him. "Never without the intention of healing it after."
Herymi smiled and then everything when black. Tai'ray caught the human before he hit the ground, sweeping him up, having expected something like that to happen.
"I'm afraid a slight recess is needed" Tai'ray declared to the watching room, "Enjoy the ball for now." With that he fled the room, several people close behind him. Clutching Herymi close to his chest, Tai'ray let out a small prayer. Herymi felt fine in the link, exhausted but whole. Still too much was riding on this now to make assumptions.
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Noises, muttering and murmurs surrounded him like a strange blanket. He wasn't alone. His back hurt but his heart felt oddly warm. He was safe wherever he was but he was also not alone. It was time to wake up it seemed. Shifting slightly, Herymi frowned slightly as his body felt heavy. It felt like he wasn't quite ready to wake up quite yet.
"Herymi," A familiar voice whispered gently. Herymi groaned, turning into the warmth he could feel radiating from his side. "Time to wake up," the voice chuckled, a hand ruffling his hair and an arm around his waist tightened.
His eyes fluttered open to see O'chetur's face hovering over him, Herymi having curled into him. Blinking slowly not quite understanding just what had happened, he sat up slowly. O'chetur shifted to accommodate him and Herymi looked around to see the room full of people. Mostly the royal nest and a few others he didn't know, all standing and talking quietly on the other side of the room.
Eyeri was resting on a chair next to him, Awendo dozing at his feet as the adults talked. Eyeri looked over at him and gave a hesitant smile from behind his eyelashes.
"Evening. How are you feeling?" Eyeri asked quietly, his eyes flashing over to where Ryraso was now looking about to punch one of the strangers and the royals looked about ready to let him.
"I don't know," Herymi said truthfully, rubbing his chest. "I feel fine, I think. Strange but not... bad," he offered, not complaining as O'chetur tightened his grip on him.
Eyeri nodded slowly, his eyes shifting back to Herymi. "All things considered, feeling a touch strange is expected," Eyeri chuckled. Aw'endo shifted and opened his eyes to look at Herymi, the youngling looking oddly exhausted.
"So that's it. A mark on the forehead is the only sign?" Aw'endo commented, touching his own idly and brushing some hair which had fallen down out of the way.
"A mark?" Herymi murmured, reaching up to trace over the skin, feeling a little like he was missing something from all of this. Simply Herymi mused could feel the link stronger than before but he wasn't sure if that was a result of the spell or because he was still getting used to feeling it again. He couldn't feel anything on his forehead and looked up at his suitor in question.
"It's nothing too obvious," O'chetur commented, a hand tracing it gently. His touch warm on Herymi's skin and he could feel his cheeks starting to burn. "A silver shimmer on the skin," he smiled fondly.
"I have a theory," Tai'ray commented frowning, speaking slightly louder and gaining their attention. The Winglord looked over at them and visibly was surprised that Herymi was awake. "Herymi, good you're awake. O'chetur, can you please check Herymi's back?" He asked, walking over now there was no reason to try to be quiet.
Before Herymi could complain, his top was off, O'chetur's hands running over his back. Herymi bit back a complaint as fingers moved over where he was aching gently.
"Wings?" O'chetur murmured. Herymi suddenly aware of an image of his back. A pair of wings clearly visible on his back, almost like a tattoo only it looked oddly more naturally. "The brand..." O'chetur commented breathlessly. The pattern was the same as that burned into the skin of traitors.
"I think the brand was designed to be a mockery. A mockery of the magic," Tai'ray said seriously, "It is interesting how this spell is about a thousand years old, but the brand is only a few hundred. I think the former Winglords knew about  this."
Ryraso turned and glared at a man wearing priest robes who shrugged. "It's possible. I told you, the caretakers found the scroll. I have only been the High Priest for a hundred years or so. I did not know about this," the man defended in k'nairi.
"I was the first Winglord not to be a noble in a thousand years. To make it worse, I refused to learn their lessons. I wanted to make things better, not make them remain the same," Tai'ray said softly. "Maybe if I'd gone along with them, I would have learned this secret earlier."
"Possibly but you wouldn't have been you either," Dyn'ad said firmly.
"Dyn'ad's right," Nel'os said seriously, "The old Winglords ruled in fear. You rule in glory. Navat is filled with laughter and joy for our return. Not dread of what you might do. Missed secrets or not."
Celebrations had started up all over Navat in joy of the royal's safe return home. Tai'ray could feel from the link his people loved him dearly. The ones old enough to remember former Winglords, remembering them in shadows and fears. The Winglord was firm and unmovable. They had grown corrupt. "Be that is it may, the secret was missed," Tai'ray murmured "I don't think the first wanted to keep this a secret. The vision I had..." he trailed off thinking over what he had seen. Everyone watched him expectantly and Tai'ray suddenly wondered if it was smart to be having the conversation with so many untried people in the room. "I think there is more to this," he finished cautiously.
"The fifth?" The High Priest ventured, following the Winglord's thoughts. Tai'ray nodded.
"For now, we have to work out what to do," Tai'ray said softly.
"If possible I'd like to wait a week or two before making Eyeri take the oath. We still don't really know the effects," Ryraso commented softly, looking over Herymi.
"That is not possible," the High Priest stated in k'nairi. "It's the brand or the oath. Those are the two options that have been presented."
Ryraso snarled at him but Tai'ray lifted a hand to his shoulder. "He's not wrong Ryraso," he said gently, also speaking in k'nairi. "This must happen today. Herymi looks fine, there doesn't seem to be any immediate danger," he tried to reassure as Ryraso pulled out of his grip.
"It's not the immediate danger I'm worried about," Ryraso growled but slumped his shoulders and closed his eyes. He opened them a moment later and looked at Eyeri sadly. "Well, my boy. It seems we are at a moment of choice. A mostly untried oath or the brand," he said, switching back to human.
The ghostly smell of burning filled Eyeri's nose and he grimaced. There wasn't really an option between the two, then a horrible thought flew his mind "I can't speak k'nairi," Eyeri commented quietly, slightly nervous.
The High Priest only chuckled at the response, making everyone look at him with varying looks of warning and anger. "If that is the only issue facing the oath, I'm sure we can translate what your son needs to say Winglord," the man commented. "I doubt the Goddess will mind too much given the circumstances."
Everyone turned to look at Eyeri expectantly who blinked at them confused. Awen'do quickly translated what the High Priest has said and Eyeri smiled slightly. It was starting to feel like for the first time since he had arrived something had gone in the right direction "I'll take the oath."