Great Conclave - I

- Two Years Ago - Fang

Today was the day the War Chieftain Koshnem had arranged a conclave of the mountain clans. This day he would declare to the Odonine that his power was akin to a king, the first in ages. They would bow on his knuckles or be bent to his banner with force.
Hundreds of tents had been pitched around the Aghul encampment to welcome them; fresh fish, goats, and specialty bear meat were put to the flame to feed the wave of native travelers. Fermented yak milk was prepared in droves and the women and children out of sight until the great meeting concluded.

The heads of the clans always brought with them a company of two--a guard and an advisor.

Koshnem would bring only Shalia Nix. For the first time in history, a leader would bring a woman to a meeting of men, and it was very uncommon for someone to play both roles regardless.

Standing in his tent, she clutched a heavy pelt in her hands with growing anxiety. He had given her a coat made from a white mountain bear whose furs were used for important occasions among mountain folk, and she was to wear it today. Koshnem had hunted the beast himself, searching for the perfect one to match his weapon, his gift. She was told the kill was an even greater sign of prosperity from Noraura.

The bear had a shaggy, snowy coat with some smoky patches of brown, grey, and black spots--rare markings for the normally solid-white creatures. It would suit her beautifully and make a firm statement at the conclave. And if that statement failed, she could finally test her new abilities on the clansmen. The idea was thrilling to her.

That teary-eyed and self-loathing little girl had finally been expelled from her body in the newfound position at the War Chieftain’s side. It was an honor like no other: to be housed, fed, and protected while having to fight for him in turn. Her magik would have become nothing without him to push her forward.

Shalia no longer looked to Koshnem with fright, but awaited instruction from her makeshift mentor. Despite these advancements, he definitely wasn’t charismatic in their interactions. Quite stoic, but more approachable than he had been.

Alienation washed over her in his service that year, but she understood the weight of what he was trying to do in his unification. No room for laughs or friendships or anything of the sort until his foot was planted firmly into Fang.

Her expressions were stressed and frowning, looking down at the coat. She needed reassurance in the wake of something as daunting as the conclave. She was ready for many obstacles now, but this? ~Surely the clans would feel insulted by my presence and Koshnem will not be taken seriously…~

She stopped upon remembering why it was that he chose her, why he believed in her as she stroked the fur. Her eyes looked over the jade wedding ring she and Jiyn had matched with that still clung to her finger. Softly, she sighed. She did not want the leader to sense her doubt on this day after coming all this perilous way.

He had to believe the mountain goddess instilled confidence in the vessel, and she had to believe in her strength.

The tent flap lifted and a man entered.

“Is it time?” She asked in their language to Koshnem, expression lifting immediately. She slipped the coat over her body and felt her tensions fade in its warmth.

Her black braided hair was intricately woven with her beloved red ribbon and feathers, which she pulled over her shoulder to cover her unease by pretending to perfect the arrangement. She lightly tugged on the ribbon and touched the feathers like a crane preening. Two smaller braids at the front of her face looped down underneath her ears and were tied at the nape of her neck.

The significance of this did not go overlooked. Koshnem now had two small braids of his own present on both sides of his dark beard--an oath quickly pledged once the conclave was announced. Both held a message: one braid for devotion, the other for blood.