Bound by Blood or Not at All

[Sunblade]

The sun still shone the same. The wind still played with the leaves and ruffled his hair. The animals of the jungle still skittered and lurked about, cracking twigs and skulls.

And yet everything felt different.

Shuffling his feet, Sunblade plopped down on the edge of the craggy cliff. With legs dangling over the edge, the young man raised his gaze to take in the vast land sprawling before him. Untamed forests and hidden glades; fertile soil and sturdy settlements; vicious predators and proud beasts, last of which was he.

Him, and the rest of his family. Well.

A ferocious frown twisted his smooth features in an instant, and strong hands gripped the rock to stymie a growl. Family.

When Quietus had told him the truth, Arathul had turned on the spot without a single word. Tore through the trees in righteous fury for what seemed like days. His rampage was rudely interrupted when he’d stumbled into a rabid pack of maalraas. Outnumbered even with his skill, the boy was forced to flee into the safety of a nearby lake.

Talk about cooling off.

But now it was… well, later. He was older now, and presumably wiser. He’d fought more, read more, seen more. Even traveled off-world a few times, though the opportunities were rare and far in-between.

He’d thought after that, mother didn’t have anything left in store for him that could shake his world like that had. And boy, was he wrong.

He took in the boundless green wealth of Onderon and tried, for the thousandth time, to grasp what it would mean to rule it all.

[member="Blackthorne"]

 

[Blackthorne]

Halcyon Citadel

The great shadowed settlement slowly drew away at her back, becoming lost within a sea of clouds and the thunder of wind in her ears. Somewhere back on the plateau [member="Greyhide"]'s calls were drowned out by a growing rage and the roar of the mighty orange beast carrying her into the sky. Akuut's wings tore through dewy clouds and left roiling fog in their wake, the beast was on edge - picking up on the fury of it's rider that rolled off her as intangible flares of energy.

Last night the Chieftains of the clans gathered for the Great Conclave. She'd attended in the finest garments of spun silk, polished brass, oiled leather. Hair in braids, the symbols of her people painted upon exposed and bronzed skin. Dahldesa had awaited that evening for months for she knew, as everyone else knew, that the Beastia would finally name her heir.

Years of preparation had gone into proving herself, training, learning the lands and the culture, the people and the tribes, the beasts and their calls. At the ripe young age of 16 she'd already partaken in battle and claimed more scars than most adults could fathom. She could speak the four Tribal dialects with perfect fluency, she could tame even the rank skreevs, she'd garnered control of the mystical powers of the Force and was well on her way to securing Elemental powers under her list of skills. She was fearsome and respected by many, known the planet over for her bravado, tenacity, and savage strength. She'd visited Dxun and lived to tell the tale. She'd dined at the great halls of the Citadel with royalty, and though she would never be so well-spoken as her brother she'd made an impression on those that mattered.

Some thought she was the prime choice, others felt her too young and inexperienced.

Dahl was willing to take them all on, to prove them wrong. This was her kingdom, the jungles were her domain. The title as heir was her right by blood born and blood spilled.

Except apparently it wasn't.

I name [member="Sunblade"] my heir to the kingdom of beasts and jungles and the Demon Moon beyond, to be named and known as King of the Beasts on the day that I lay down my spear. To be challenged by his Kingdom and his people for the right to rule just as these jungles challenge his people every day for their right to live.

Akuut let loose a tenacious screaming roar fueled by the fire of rage as the words echoed within her rider's mind. Dahl's eyes bled a vehement hue of red.

A challenge would be made indeed.

 

[Lucianus Adair]

Halcyon Citadel

Krasst, Des.

There was no stopping [member="Blackthorne"], his sister - she was a force of nature. In ways, she was chaos, he was order, two sides of the same coin, and as his twin disappeared into the clouds, his shouts died, replaced by a resounding roar of frustration with hands worked into that dark mane atop his ever-bustling noggin, then torn away. He stalked off to his own mount, Akaan, full of the raging and singular purpose to go after her, as he did more often than not. He had seen this coming; he'd seen it from the drop of the first syllable of his elder brother's tribal name, last night. [member="Sunblade"]. He'd felt it in every intervening moment, since. He did everything he could to stop it, he'd tried to persuade her of what he knew was coming, what he unequivocally understood, and all she heard was doubt. Doubt that she could, doubt that she was ready, doubt that this was her right.

By blood, or not at all.

Upon Akaan, he gave the same signaling whoop that he always had, and the beast, a burnt shade of the orange of Akuut, took to the sky, then the clouds with near the height of his speed, on the feed of his rider's urgency. Eordahn had learned long ago to pace the beast, and it had won him many a race... surely it would carry him to one more opportunity, one more chance to put a stop to what the images in his head dictated as outcome before it started? Because once it did, he had no right to get in the way. He scanned the clouds, squinting against Prael's rays.

Come on... come on...

Every moment with no results was a moment the tension in the pit of his stomach increased, until, in a part between the clouds, bathed in the sun, he saw the unmistakable orange of Akuut's hide. "Yaaaa!" he crowed, and Akaan surged forward.

A challenge could be stopped, maybe.

 

[Sunblade]

He’d known it was coming, and soon. Somewhere in his gut, primal instincts stirred, muscles tensing in preparation. Wasn’t long after that he heard the defiant roar of a raging Skreev rend the skies.

So much for solace.

Sunblade forced his eyes open and turned his bright gaze skyward. It was late autumn on Onderon – low gray clouds and the threat of rain always looming just beyond the horizon. His bronzed skin and sun-loved freckles had already begun to fade in preparation for the stillness of the coming season.

Winter wasn’t going to bring an end to Dahl’s discontent. Too much fury, too much pride roiling beneath the skin. She was the taut string of a bow, teetering between snapping herself and snapping at her foes. Of those, there were many, and even the innocent could quickly fall out of favor with the spitfire. A single word was enough, sometimes.

Like Sunblade where she’d been expecting [member="Blackthorne"].

A heavy sigh shook his frame as Ari found his feet again, stretching to full height. Long gone were the days of staring up at Quietus’ emerald eyes. Dahl’s eyes.

He groaned.

Challenges were par for the course; Nether, he’d been looking forward to rolling in the mud and dust with his fellow warriors. The song of battle was as dear to his heart as to the rest of the tribespeople. This, at least, had not been soured by the Beastia’s revelation.

You are blood of my blood, but you are not my son.

The worn handle of a dagger found its way into the worn palm of a hand. He thumbed the blade – maalraas bone – and felt it bite into his skin. Good. Ari fixed the distant rider with a glare, took a deep breath, and waited.

Come glory or defeat, he would face it as a Shamalain.

[member="Greyhide"]​