AITHNIEL

She watched and waited, knowing she would have to act soon. Every beat of her heart urged her to make this choice – to do something for once in her life. Aithniel felt the Sun God, whether or not he approved, and she had to make him proud. This strange water god showing up only hastened her emotions, urging her to make sure that the herd she called home was protected. Having children did that to a mind. Regardless of her nature for communal raising, she was responsible for them and their lives. Thus, she owed it to everyone to keep the herd safe.

Aithniel wasn’t Gaucho, and she knew she would never fill that place. But, at least she was a warrior. The Sun God ran in her veins, and she served long enough to know what is good and just in the world. She knew what it took for success, and frankly, this healer, wasn’t it. She had tried and failed – even gone so far to appoint an older mare as a spy who seemed only partially interested in the job. Aith knew of Ophelia, of her skill, but why were the ranks so empty? Where were the others? The healers?

They would need them soon – she felt it in her very bones. Nothing in Helovia stayed peaceful for long, and the patrols had all but stopped. She had no idea about the state of the keys- who had them or not. As far as she knew, Sikeax had never spoken to Ophelia about them, and far too many were getting in and out without access. Everything was messy, and if Gaucho’s leadership taught her one thing it was that chaos got you killed.

Even if she wasn’t the right person for the job, Aithniel would appoint someone who was. Sikeax seemed to have let leadership go to her head – perhaps blinded by power. The sun child would never let herself get so consumed, and if she did, she knew that Ampere, Tae and the others would hold her accountable just as she was doing now. This was her one shot, and she was taking it firmly and without hesitation. Everyone else would have to fall in line.


“Sikeax!” she bellowed, marching along the sands in the Dragon’s Throat. The cold air was chilling, but she had the fire in her soul to keep her warm. “I hereby condemn you by holy writ of the Sun God to step down. Should you fail to conform, I will take your crown by force.” There was no jest in her stony, silver eyes. No compassion. No mercy. Aithniel was the inquisitor. She was the be-all-end-all. Alpha and omega. Darkness and light.

And today was the day of judgment.