20 Years Later

Merran huffed in displeasure. She had journeyed from the furthest city of Aradia. Temis was on the northern-most tip of the island a long and arduous trip across all matter of landscapes except ones inhabited by other people. Merran wasn't one to sit still. She was energetic and quick to grow bored without company which made her trek that much longer and lonelier. She hated being away from her own home. Her own people. The hustle and bustle of the busy sea-food markets, the fisherman shouting out their wares, the colourful swaths of sea-cloth draped over the sturdy wooden buildings. 

But when the king called, she came. She wished she could've used his method of instant travel. The king could cover vast distances within the blink of an eye. However, the High priest had prevented the enchantment from the falling into the people's grasp, claiming it would be a danger to give Aradian's access to the gift-ability. 

Merran had always agreed until she had met Shakur. The short, slitted eyed zealot was frankly unpleasant, and Merran never found people unpleasant. She got along with everyone and felt a great pride in being able to talk to just about anyone about anything. It was a trademark of her king's reign and realm. Everyone was not only accepted but questioned. Cultures, religions, languages, knowledge, it was all shared and understood, the realm coexisted in peace because people no longer lived under the prejudice of one belief, they were exposed to others and learned to respect them all. 

But Shakur seemed to live above such things, he looked upon her with dislike-even hate. She knew his people were the first to call Aradia their home. They claimed it was their birth right to rule it, and all that had arrived after them. An old practice eliminated by long fought wars and rulers who had come into the possession of gift-abilities. Most of the Sulfites had forgotten, even made peace with their past prejudices, but it looked like the high priest had not. Merran could read it in his eyes. Although, there was something more than the superiority complex of a worshipper. At first glance she thought it was her skin colour, the tinge of golden-bronze that came with living in Temis, the proclaimed sun-coast. The shade lighter than that of Shakur's Sulfa. Or the shells in her braided blond hair. However, it wasn't that. It was her. He scowled every time she spoke. But her lisp in grasping Aradia's language didn't annoy him. And then she caught his eye.

It was her eyes, the turquoise blue ringed with honey-gold that was such a rarity in the main city. The way his slanted eyes, prominent in the North continent of Sulfa slitted even further when they found her own. But she couldn't fathom the reason behind that loathing gaze, and the high priest wasn't one to ask outright. She would have to tease the answer out of him.

"Shakur," she used his birth name as was tradition in Temis, no one was given titles, not even her, "do you know why the king has summoned me on my own?"

Shakur didn't bother looking back. "Erya does what he wants girl, no matter what the consequences."

Some hidden meaning, but Merran knew better than to ask. Sulfhites were closed off in a way that was more heritage than outright rudeness.

"Well, he is king after all."

This time Shakur glanced back, his head spinning on his neck like a vulture seeking raw meat. There was a gleam in his eyes that frightened her a little, and she wasn't easy to scare. She monitored the port closest to the Forician's, if the shield fell, her city would be the one hit first. Was the first one hit...

"For now," his eyes glistened cruelly, "changes are coming Merran of Temis, and you were the beginning and the start of them."

He sniffed at her. "And when I'm done, the end of them."

A riddle then, she mused. She did like solving puzzles, and the High priest of Aradia would defiantly take some time to work out.

"What are you smiling at?" Shakur asked looking put out that his declaration had not conjured some sort of outburst from her.

"I like games High Priest," she stared directly into his slanted eyes, "and do you know what I like about them most?

She didn't bother waiting for a reply, which she knew would annoy the zealot even more. "Winning."

His jaw clenched. But Merran had already picked out a group of men and woman standing around the king, without another look at Shakur she sidestepped his elaborate long robe and walked towards them.

"Merran," Erya greeted enthusiastically. She knew she should've thought the greeting strange considering it was the first time she'd seen him since she was a girl. But even back then there was something completely informal about the King. He didn't seem — well Kingly. He stood taller than all the men around him, but he didn't intend to overwhelm or overpower the room. He didn't raise his voice to be heard, he didn't need to, there was something about him that demanded attention, that hooked an audience without even trying. He was quiet yet loud.

he wasn't muscular yet there was a strength to him that she could almost feel, pulsing from him in waves and he didn't try to be funny, but he was hilarious. Her mother had once said. "A king who demands servitude it no king, but a king who receives loyalty without asking for it is a true leader."

Merran remembered his visit almost a decade ago with a fondness that made it bearable to leave her home, her heart.

King Erya didn't take his intelligent golden ichor eyes off her as she curtsied. "An honor to see you again king Erya."

"There is no need for formalities around me queen Merran, or do you prefer advisory of Temis."

"Citizen of Temis," she answered surprised that he knew so much of her city, "you are its king, my — um king."

He chuckled, it was a pleasant sound, it reminded her of the wooden wind-chimes melody courtesy of Temis's sea-breeze. "How fares the sea-city?"

"Very well," she declared proudly, "the tides are good, but I'm sure you've seen as much."

The king smiled. Despite the High Priests insistence that the transchantment not be used for people, the spell was modified to work for equipment, merchandise, and food. It meant that wares could be transported across the islands with ease, every city had a little bit of the other. The king would be well aware that the Sea-city as it was known, was supplying other cities including his own with the freshest produce and the most intricate and beautiful shell crafted jewellery.

"I see you like the islands other leaders are not one to trade talk. So, straight to business then."

Merran only really noticed the others then. She had heard of the leaders of the other six cities, she had received and delegated the incredible wares that they had shared so willingly.

Some she knew, Siva prince of Dharisiya, her neighbour ruled over one of the largest territories. The prince tiled the land often working with the king to conjure the right nutrients to feed the earth and in turn the whole of Aradia. But it wasn't all spells, it was hard work, and long days in the sun. Which left his dark skinner, darker — almost shinning, his arms and chest hard muscle that rolled beneath his plain white wool shirt. She dipped her head, and he smiled in return, his caramel eyes twinkling in her direction. She did her best not to blush. As neighbours Temisians and Dharisiyans interacted a lot more than they did with any of the distant cities further along the coast. And they had often joint arms against the spawn of the Forcian's, the small—er monsters that the shield didn't stop. Merran often pondered those creatures, wondered that if the babies of the breeds could cause such calamity, what the adults, proclaimed to be over thousands of years in age could do.

Others she had met briefly in her travels of the coast, her tutelage of Aradia as her mother had coined it.

Mez and Tia were princesses of Mehren and Tereen, the frost lands on the south-side of Aradia, the twins were both porcelains skinned and muscled because of it, the frost-lands were teaming with some of the worst Forcian's, hidden beneath the ice and waiting... perfect hunters whose prey had no defence until the princesses had found a way to hunt the hunter. Now they provided furs, wools, blankets straight from of the beasts they hunted on top of the healing waters that they mined in the coldest and darkest lakes of Aradia.

Khumo was the chief of Tark, taller than even the king, the rustic red skinned Tarkian had taken Merran on a tour of the Iron Forest which provided the strange type of wood that built her homeland and the Golden fern, one of the luxuries of Aradia.

The others she only knew by name. Arya, who couldn't be more than fourteen, she was short and tropical looking, her black hair braided over her petite face with white flowers, her lips held an intoxicating light pink smile that twitched her perfectly straight nose. The newly crowned empress of Charlan, supplier of silver wine and other such trinkets from the still waters of Char Lake. And Kaijan from Kava, descendant of the Sulphites and the high priest, he had the same slanted eyes as Shakur, but where they made the zealot look as if he was constantly frowning, Kaijan's were crinkled in amusement as he listened to something Khumo his neighbour said. He was also short, most Sulphites were, but there were differences, where most chose baldness, the Miners hair was a long rich black, tied in a ponytail that ended at his shoulders blades and he had a darker complexion from working in the Aradian volcanoes, mining for the coveted gift-stones.

"My reign is coming to an end," the king announced to his leaders, his sun-kissed eyes sombre. Merran didn't know if anyone else noticed the light that left those eyes, the way the sun seemed to set on them as if this choice were a burden.

He extended his hands. "It now falls to one of you, my brilliant leaders of Aradia to take up the mantle. To receive my gift-abilities and hold the shield."

Merran understood those emotions now. The sadness lined in that youthful face. The burden that he was leaving, the legacy he would trust to one of them.

"But you're still young my king," Arya sang, "there must be many seasons left in you." There was hope in that voice, and Merran didn't miss the nods of agreement that followed those words. The whole room of leaders, who had just been offered the amazing power of Aradia would rather have their king.

"Is there something wrong?" Merran found herself asking, it was odd. The king had reigned for twenty years, he couldn't be more than forty. His hair still full and shimmering brown, his skin healthy and tanned, his smile full, eyes still twinkled golden with intelligence.

Erya smiled at his leaders and then at her as if he appreciated their concern. "No, I'm quite alright Merran... for now," he said wistfully, "however, I should have made myself clearer. I am not handing anyone the gift-abilities right now. No, no, no, today I am inviting you to be the first to join a..." he glanced at Shakur, something passed between them, but Merran was sure she was the only one to notice as everyone was too enraptured with the king and his offer, "tournament." He declared.

"A competition that will span three trials, one that will have me as your teacher. One where the winner will be crowned the next leader of Aradia. The next one to inherit the Gift-abilities and protect the people from what lies beyond our borders."

A chill passed through the room. That responsibility was not to be taken lightly, not after what she had seen some of the Forcian's do and imagined what they could be capable of. Not when the legacy they would follow would be so hard to live up to...