Lion Head Mesa ascendant

Gladly

Akhtar’s voice was made to ring over crowds and skies, to call forth the attention of gods.

Now, his voice rumbled like an approaching thunderhead as he stepped forward, half his face falling into shadow.

Children. Both reminder and rebuke. There are a thousand tales of kingdoms, kings and queens. Those that fight for them. There are many you do not know, for one reason or another. But there are many who will never be known.

The gods watch our every action. Displeasure brings disdain, and disdain brings ruination. Not to just you, but all. Your people, your families, your kingdoms. Locusts, plagues, disease and famine. The gods will wage war, and you will always be on the losing side. His brown eyes looked like flints of hard stone, unbroken and as sharp as the tip of a spear. His voice rose in searing heat, the drumbeats in his ears growing louder.

You will die. And your kingdom with you. His eyes trailed to the Amiirad.

You called for the attention of the gods, Princess Makono, and you have received their eye. Ensure they like what they see. His grim intonation rung like a funeral bell, his eyes becoming distant and clouded, and his breath inhaled cold, as though the reaper stood over his head with scythe poised.