AITHNIEL

Perhaps if more than one face looked upon their failed queen with contempt, she should look upon this challenge as a statistical inevitability. With so many unhappy subjects, it was only a matter of time before someone rose up to take back the once-great mantle of Sultana. In the face of this hatred, wouldn’t she actually consider that she was the problem? That her failures were her ultimate undoing? Aithniel was simply the hand of the weary and angry, acting as a vessel to fulfill their desires, and she was honored to be the one to act.


Zerachiel stood firm by her side, the gold and white griffin nearly full grown and capable of wielding firepower which rivaled her own magic. His golden, hawk’s eyes and tufted ears were focused on their enemy, and with true purity, his righteous anger knew no personal slights. He was a tool and a weapon and bonded by soul and energy to his Aithniel - his dark light. She felt empowered by this bond to her bloody angel, glad to have him by her side.


Aithniel stood firm upon the sands of her father’s land, her toes churning in the earth where she was hatched. The sunlight beat down upon her pale back, giving her life and strength to do what she must despite the consequences of her actions. But, she was the judge, jury and executioner. Her counsel had already met, and she had passed judgment without an interview because some actions spoke much louder than flimsy, pathetic words. What good were the enemy’s pleas when her heart was deaf to their purpose?


But speak she did, and Aithniel raised a brow in amusement when she admitted to failure and then pulled a childish “failed to do what you want” as if a drum riff should follow her pointed statement. The sun child chuckled to herself, a brutal grin curving her dark lips as the girl continued to tell her that she was the one who failed Gaucho and the Sun God. She tossed her head back in mirth, black and gold mane billowing behind her neck.


“Funny, I just spoke with my father, the God of the Sun, and he said no such thing. In fact, he mentioned that he was proud of me. As for Gaucho…” she trailed, taking a lethal step forward with a grin more feral than excited. “He fucked twins into my womb which I birthed to carry on his name. I will avenge his legacy as the Sultan and promote his legacy through my very body.” Her lion tail whipped behind her hips, the long tassels shaking in the light breeze. Every nerve was alight with anticipation, singing that this was her destiny.


“So you see,” she trailed, her voice almost bored now as her expression returned to stone. “If there is a failure among the two of is, ‘tis not I. I was not the one who allowed another to steal from our noble herd by not promoting anyone to the ranks or organizing. While I have been watching the state of Helovia and the presence of a new god, where have you been? We have no healers. Ophelia had to fill in to protect us, and our warriors are thin and lazy. You are unfit to lead by virtue of your own failures.”


The demi-god’s ears flattened against her skull, ivory teeth bared. “I take this as your failure to conform, Sikeax, and I am pleased. Gaucho deserved for his vengeance to end in blood.”


Aithniel took another step forward and Zerachiel took flight, circling with talons extended and flames tickling the sharp tips. Aith expanded her gold banded wings and thrust her own body in the air, causing sand and dust to spiral in the vortex of the thrust. Once lifted by the wind, she summoned her magic and called forth the flames of her father, and with a thought, she sent a rail of flame toward where Sikeax stood.


Her soul was hungry for Sikeax’s pain, and she watched with narrowed, silver eyes to see if her attack would land. Failure was not an option. She would fight until her last breath, and she had never felt this drive before. This was pure passion fueled by righteousness. Aithniel was a holy warrior, and by her sword, she would bring justice. Zera joined in this song of fire, aiming his fury at the cat nearby with talons open wide. He swept down, attempting to grab the cat and burn its flesh with his magic.


Was this what the Sun God felt like? How did he resist setting the world on fire?


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