Kefir winced under the sharp gaze of the Kaar Oma, jerking his gaze to his front paws as he moved to stand before her. Behind him, he was aware of the oppressive presence of Tömörbaatar, the infamous Shuko who was current mate to the Overseer herself. Kefir could not imagine a more hateful female to take as a mate, but the pair seemed happy--
--if their scowling faces could be called happy, of course.
"My dear, Kefir," Mchawi purred, lifting his chin with a single, hooked claw. Their eyes locked and for a moment Kefir thought that such a look would kill him. As if she were reaching inside for his soul, as if preparing to tear it to shreds. His stomach clenched with fear, the scars on his face burning with the memory of torture. "Why so afraid? You think I will hurt you now that you are a faithful servant?"
He swallowed thickly, jerking forwards as Tömörbaatar jabbed him in the back with a paw. Still, as scary as the male was, he could not look away from the Overseer. She was by far the more powerful. By far the more deadly. His mouth opened, a sound tremoring in his throat, but no words came.
She laughed.
"I du think aeui have kresrsamad him," Tomor rumbled. "Want ka to sas him sordems?"
"No," came her quick reply, pressing her claw harder against Kefir's chin. "He'll be good, won't you, Kefir?"
"Y-yes."
"There we go," she said with a flourish, getting up to her paws and giving her fur a shake. Still, despite the lighter tone, her eyes were vicious when she turned back to look at him. "Tell me about your visions."
He gave pause, turning to look - at last - to Tomor. The huge male glowered at him and signaled back to his mate. The message was clear. If he did as he was told, they'd let him go unscathed. Or...relatively, anyway.
"I...I have seen many things."
"Tell me. Don't pause unless I interrupt." She sat then, her back to him, tail swishing back and forth. Tomor remained standing, an unmoving protector though it was clear the female had no need of one.
She was the Kulukadok Slayer, after all.
"I saw the shifting of the seasons. The phases of the moon. Night turn to day and then back to night again. An endless darkness with the promise of dawn but no rising of the sun. A band of red on the horizon that never grew. Never turned blue. Skeletons of the dead rattling in their graves, shaking the teeth from their skulls. The teeth gave birth to flowers; beautiful and strong. Fragile and deadly. A thousand flowers. A million. Stretched out as far as the eye could see." His visions were strong and powerful, twisting and curving, singing teasingly and filled with metaphors that he could barely distinguish. This was not the first time he had spoken of these things with her and every time she had listened silently. He wondered, if he could see her face, he would see it in her eyes as she tried to fit the pieces together.
"A raven," he continued, "born from blood. It opened its eyes and there were three. It flew out across the desert, unhindered through the sandstorm." He shivered to recall that one. "When I woke from that vision...the raven was there, real as day, staring down at me. It laughed and took flight."
At that, she did turn, her eyes regarding him curiously. "You wouldn't lie about this, would you?"
"N-no Kaar Oma."
The mated pair regarded one another for a long moment. If Kefir didn't know better, he'd say the native-born Nergui could already tell what the female was thinking.
Magic, perhaps. A strange, evil magic.
He shuddered and backed away a step, willing to risk a clout to just get a bit of breathing space.
"You may leave, Kefir."
The seer opened his mouth to respond, to ask whether he had angered her. But, instead, at the last moment, he clamped his jaw shut, dipped his head, and backed away, turning only when he believed himself a safe distance. Just beyond the edge of her den-site, he broke into a run, not stopping until he was far, far from her residence.
The three-eyed raven continued to haunt his waking thoughts.
--
It was Tomor who spoke first, his rough, Nergui accent non-existant when using the southern tongue. One of the many traits that made him an excellent spy.
"What do you think this means? The raven?"
She swung to look at him, her eyes alight with excitement. "We must find it. The raven must be found and caught and returned here. It is a sign that cannot be ignored."
"Will you share it?"
"No. No, not yet."
"And if that other seer spreads it?"
"Kefir is too weak for that. He is afraid and sworn to secrecy. If he cared not for survival he would never have turned to join us."
"So, given that this is now a secret of ours, I take it you are sending me out on this hunt?"
She smiled at him, the points of her fangs gleaming in the twilight. "Who else would I trust with such a task?"
He bowed his head, grinning. "I have not failed yet. I never plan to. This is what I do best, remember."
"Still, I shan't expect you to go alone in this. Take my servant, Moma."
Behind her, hidden in the thorns, the small, female raven made herself known with a low croak. She was looking more worn these days, her feathers looking ill-groomed.
"She certainly could do with stretching her wings. She's become useless as of late and she could do with reminding what happens to useless creatures in the Nergui."
He grinned, flicking his eyes up to where the raven had fully emerged from her place nestled amongst the thorny undergrowth. Still, dazed as she was, it was clear she had heard enough that she needed no time to ask questions.
"I would wish you luck, but I know you will not need it." Mchawi added, her tone dismissive.
The meeting was fast coming to an end.
With a low growl, the steel-coloured lion moved across to her, rubbing possessively against her. If he noticed the way she tensed, he gave it no word, turning instead to look at the raven, Moma.
"Come then, raven. We go to find your ilk."
/fin
