“Very well, father, if this is the approach you demand, let the games commence. Tis period for alteration. Senx will retain a new ruler and we will soon sight who will command Tsinia.”
While Darthorn spent his time devising how to kill his son, Kovon spent his time planning the unexpected demise of his father.
Darthorn had no intent to delay the inevitable. His method, a little poison in and around Kovon's cup. None would be wise. Who would dare to suspect the warlord of foul play? Kovon was due any moment and Darthorn felt nervous. It was all within his grasp. Why did the force not convey this solution previously? It was effortless. He cursed for waiting so long.
Kovon entered. “Father,” he greeted.
Father and son embraced each other, lingering longer than usual, each saying their final goodbye. They sat facing one another. Darthorn poured the wine. Nothing strange about that, for he had done it most evenings. It was a ritual for father and son, a moment to enjoy the coming evening and discuss the passing light.
“A toast,” Darthorn announced. “To your approaching wedlock.”
Kovon raised his cup to his lips then paused. Darthorn's eyes followed.
“How I desire for this,” Kovon remarked. “Do you speculate an adjustment of mind, father? She is stubborn though I would gain pleasure in taming her.”
Darthorn laughed falsely. “So a toast… in educating Princess Thya.”
They both laughed and touched cups. Darthorn drank, only to his dismay, Kovon kept his cup close in his hands. Darthorn sensed something was worrying his son and realised he would have to play the caring parent one last time.
“What troubles you, my son? Express frankly?” Darthorn's concern was evident.
Kovon sighed. “I am irritated with myself for not dealing with her insolence. Why did I permit a Bora, a Tsinian, to converse with me in such a manner? I ought not to have tolerated it. I ought to have taught her manners directly.” Forgetting that his father was present, he continued. “Nonetheless, I will display to her and to all. I will force them to quake in fear of the name Kovon. Not one will regard me with disrespect. Thya will suffer for her words as will all who defy me. I will compel her to beseech for mercy. All will bow in my presence. I will become the greatest warlord that ever existed.”
He stopped and stared into his father's pale, shocked face. “Absolve me, father, for my foolish tongue.” Kovon smiled smugly. “Reveal to me, Father. What would you sacrifice to receive what you deemed you rightly deserved?”
Still shocked by his son's speech, and more so by the strange and disturbing question, Darthorn thought hard.
“Perhaps… flesh and blood,” Kovon answered for him. “At what extent would you willingly participate, Father?”
Darthorn swallowed hard before speaking. “You have witnessed that I have done just so, and will continue to. If the Dark Force commands this of me then tis a sacrifice I will commit to. You ought to expect to vanquish something precious in return for greatness. You will gain an understanding about this when it is your spell to reign.”
To Darthorn's dismay, the conversation did not end there. Kovon continued.
“If I was to sacrifice my most cherished possession it would be you, Father, as there is naught of greater value than my father's love.”
Darthorn shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “The issue is could you? Would you?”
“Nay,” Kovon spat as he glared into Darthorn's eyes. “Would you sacrifice your only kin, your flesh and blood for the sake of greatness?”
The conversation had grown far too intense for Darthorn. “All I possess, all of Senx will eventually become yours. You are the only son and heir of Darthorn. Why would I surrender my heir? It would be for naught, an act of stupidity. Let us drink, and continue our conversion in a happier intonation,” Darthorn suggested, and thinking the conversation was over, he lifted his cup and drank. Kovon did not.
Kovon smiled. “The wine is not to my palate, Father.”
Darthorn slammed his cup on the table, spilling the wine onto the wood. Kovon laughed aloud, happy that his father had at last caught on.
“How could you retain anticipation of my intent?” Darthorn growled. His tone softened slightly. “What would you undertake if you were in my situation, son?” Kovon cringed at the word. “If you held the enemy in the palm of your hand and only one Bora stood on your course, reveal to me your resolve.”
“I would crush them. Like father like son,” Kovon laughed cruelly.
Darthorn felt a pressing sensation on his temples. Unable to shake off the feeling that seemed to fill his whole being, he stood up from his chair and walked to the balcony. Not being able to stop the force pushing him along, he climbed onto the ledge and looked down. Though he had no control over his body, his thoughts were his own. He silently screamed in terror.
Kovon stood behind his father, concentrating hard, his mind clear of all thoughts apart from what he demanded from his subject.
With his gift of Traking, Kovon could control other Boras' minds; make them do things against their will. It came in handy when he wanted the company of the opposite sex. It was easier for the females to be controlled, rather than him knowing they didn't want to be there. He wasn’t ugly, far from it, he was very handsome and he knew that. Only he was known as a sadist when it came to sex. He preferred the company to enjoy his way of lovemaking, whether they wanted to or not. It had taken many years for him to perfect his talents. Through all his life, he had not encountered an opponent who could resist him.
Even the great Darthorn could not resist. He was invincible. Not a single foe could destroy him.
Kovon forced his father to look into his eyes, releasing his will just enough to sight the terror upon Darthorn's face.
“Farewell, Father,” Kovon called.
Darthorn silently stepped off the edge.
***
It was in the early coming of light that a Tsinian by the name of Spacia found the crushed and mangled body of Darthorn at the foot of the mountain. Her scream rang through the forest waking all save the dead. A crowd gathered to regard the body of their feared enemy. It was Jakar, who on seeing his master's body, ran to notify Kovon that he was now the warlord of Senx. Guards were sent to retrieve his body, and he was laid to rest with honours befitting a warlord.
Kovon was eager to take up the role, for he had many plans.
He would permit his subjects to grieve for the loss of their precious master, after which they would labour for the first duration in their miserable existence.
On seeing and hearing of the death of Darthorn, the citizens of Tsinia rejoiced, but at the request of Thya, the council banned any open celebration; all were behind closed doors. Thya felt it was just, in respect for Kovon's mourning. She even sent him a token, a gesture of good faith, which he ignored.
Three tril moons had passed when Thya was requested to attend the council at the Escos. They were all seated by the time she arrived. Omad motioned for her to approach the addressing star.
“Greetings, my lady,” Omad's grin stretched from ear to ear. He was happier than she had seen him for some time. “We are delighted by the turn of events as I believe you are. The prophecy has been fulfilled, yet we are unsure how you worked into the equation. Nonetheless, Darthorn is deceased, and the threat is obsolete. We can conclusively exist in peace. We, the citizens of Tsinia, cannot demonstrate our gratitude to you. You have been patient with us and revised hard in both the arts and our sacred code. For this, we will regretfully return you to the land you deem to miss.”
Thya knew she should feel grateful and relieved by the news. However, she was not.
Omad continued. “Regardless, we beg of you one final request.” Thya listened closely, curious as to what it may be. “Kovon seeks an encounter with you again, he holds for your response.”
“After all that has occurred, you would presently consent to an alliance? I will not ever understand your manner of thought,” Thya said, shocked.
<
br /> “Nay, my lady, Kovon does not express for an alliance. Only of friendship.”
“And you retain belief of this? He expects your princess to jump when he commands it. I refuse to comply with his demand, once was enough. I am gratified that you permit my return home, only can you be so definite that receiving Kovon as the new warlord of Senx will not result in your suffering? How can you be convinced that he will not attempt to obtain Tsinia by force? I have encountered with him on one occasion and believe him to possess the capabilities and conviction to do just that. I notice you all delight in Darthorn's demise, yet I am troubled. I believe Senx has developed into a larger threat than previously.”
Omad looked uncomfortable with her news. Zarc rose from his seat. “I fathom your uneasiness, though you ought not to concern yourself further.”
Thya was livid.
“How dare you state tis not a concern of mine? You abduct me from my home, forcing me to exist in your world. You rotate my being, everything I comprehend as truth becomes a lie. You then have the audacity to demand I unite with a vile and evil warlord, require me to master a power I never recognised I possessed and memorise your code. In return, you hold the nerve to sit there and declare it is naught of my business how you manage my realm.”
Thya was so angry she could speak no more. Zarc was about to respond when Omad stood up and silenced him. “I express regret for the councillor's tongue. I am confident it was not meant. You will forever be involved with the concerns of Tsinia, and I hold your statement seriously. I will consider your apprehension. What our friend Zarc was attempting to convey, yet not in a suitable manner, was that we believe there will be harmony within our nation henceforth and that you ought not to agitate yourself with concerns that will not be.”
“Fine!” Thya yelled. “Then allow me to inform you, one and all. Do not seek my aid, which I judge you will soon require. You appear to believe you can govern finer than a Ganty, well then, I surrender her to you. Enjoy your democracy. Only, do not seek my guidance when you discover you cannot cope unaided. I expect to depart from Tsinia in one tril moon.”
Enough said, she turned and stormed out of the Escos.
Omad tried to reason with the council. It was not wise to return Thya. He was certain her words were just, and presumed Thya felt as though she was being pushed out of her new home, just as she was beginning to settle down and take up her duties. He further believed this would have resulted in her accepting the crown. Only suddenly, everything had shattered like glass. The trust he had built up with her, the friendship, was ruined. He vowed to repair the damage before her departure. She would not leave her land on bad terms. Omad was adamant about that.
The council, however, would not take him earnestly. Thya had done the task she was sent to do. She had saved her kinsmen as prophesied, and as she refused to accept the crown, they considered further contribution unnecessary.
Omad's mind was made up when Athron woke him from his rest to demand an emergency council—and requested that Thya attend. Alkazar refused to be left in the dark again. Luckily, she summoned him to her counsel.
Thya was the first to speak. “I can only presume I have been summoned for reason of an Oracle, and that it is of my concern.”
“With certainty, my lady,” Athron answered.
“Very well, Athron, you are permitted to interpret,” she said.
“’The swan will fly, the feathers will fall, conversion will not do at all,’” Athron announced.
“Rephrase,” Thya commanded.
“I believe you have been wronged, and that we are further away from your acceptance of the crown than ever. I am not familiar with what has been conversed since the downfall of Darthorn. However, I am convinced that if you depart from our nation, prior to the prophecy being fulfilled, that all of Tsinia and those who exist within her borders will perish. For tis written so it will be.”
“What you are declaring, is that if I depart Tsinia, my kinsmen will expire?”
“Tis so,” Athron answered.
“Then it is how I feared it would be, Kovon is a deadly enemy, more so than Darthorn. He hides in the shadows and waits for the precise moment to attack. He holds out a hand of friendship, believing that I will return to the land whence I came if all appears well. Only then will he strike. I am the only one who can defeat him and Kovon is aware of this. Am I to presume, good Athron, that the swan represents your princess and the feathers her kinsmen?”
“With certainty, my lady,” Athron answered.
“Very well. You are all witness to the Oracle, and it will be received earnestly. I will not depart until I have dealt with Kovon.” She glared at the speechless council. “Nay, spare me your repent for I am not in the disposition to pay attention to them. You will, nonetheless, bring about what I order. Despatch word to Kovon that Thya refuses his request. Let it be declared that I will not be withdrawing from Tsinia in the near future. I am convinced that this information will distress him.”
She took Alkazar's hand and left the Escos without a word of leave.
***
“Still she defies me,” Kovon roared. “While she breathes, she provides hope to those feeble Tsinians. Without her, I would retain control of the Changlins and of them. Declare to me, Jakar. What is their thought of their princess? How do they react to her stubborn temperament?”
“Tis sad, my lord, they are blinded from the truth. She is pathetic,” Jakar spat. “She has refused to acknowledge the crown, yet they shut their eyes, convinced that she is their redeemer. The fools exist by the Oracles; it matters not what they observe with sight. After our beloved Darthorn conjured and caused destruction to her land, she still declined to aid her kinsmen. They continue to retain hope as most believe their future is predetermined. They fear you not, my lord.”
“Is that so?” Kovon said. “Then I will bestow upon them a reminder that Senx finally has a warlord that will install fear into their hearts.”
Jakar kept silent, though he thought of a few comments which he considered wise to keep to himself.
“Yet you compose error in your judgement of Thya,” Kovon continued, “for she is a powerful Ganty and possesses a gift. My father related this ahead of his decision to conclude his being.” Jakar squirmed at Kovon's words. “She is undeniably a powerful Tsinian. A worthy enemy for the almighty Kovon, one that ought not to be thought of lightly.”
“Indeed,” puzzled Jakar.
“It matters not. She will be of little consequence. As she has refused to comply with my demands, I will eradicate their princess—and entrust the deed in your capable hands.”
Jakar bowed. “Very good, my lord.”
Kovon pulled a small, ornamented bottle from beneath his kimono.
“Let flow this liquid into Thya's chalice,” Kovon instructed. “The poison will react immediately following its entrance. It matters not how little, for the potion is lethal. Naught of Valcan's skill could aid her. Within moments, she will cease to exist and I will have removed Tsinian's saviour. Thereafter I will obtain my reward, as will you.”
“I am eager to serve and satisfy my new master. It will be done.” Jakar turned to leave.
“Jakar,” Kovon called out. “Do not fail me.”
“My lord, I will surrender my existence to your cause.”
“And so you will—if you fail.” Kovon dismissed him. Why did his father amuse himself with the Tsinians for so long? He was a pathetic fool.
Kovon had always considered his father to be a fierce warlord that was feared by all, now he knew different. There was no order within the city and although the Senxs were loyal, they showed a lack of respect for their new lord. This Kovon remedied almost immediately. What did the loss of a few lives matter to him? It was a small price to pay for respect.
Food was rationed, as it was more important that produce was sold rather than eaten. Kovon needed allies outside of Senx if his plan for domination were to succeed; he needed contact with the outlanders. The villagers had
barely enough food for themselves; they could not afford another mouth to feed, so breeding stopped, which was Kovon's intent.
Senxs were publicly flogged if they grumbled about the terrible conditions. If any dared to break the warlord's command, they were tortured into obedience or died under the effort.
Able Senxs were trained with weapons, thus increasing Kovon's army, though half of them would have turned and run at the sight of battle.
Satisfied he had the respect he demanded from his kinsmen, Kovon relished the thought of the Tsinians on their knees.
***
Both Kezar and Thya curled up on the sofa, chatting and giggling and enjoying one another's company. It was getting late in the afternoon when the conversation took on a serious note.
“I do not feel tis prudent to disregard Kovon's hand of friendship,” Kezar declared.
“Ought I to progress when he summons then?”
“With the death of Darthorn, we exist in the belief that the threat has elapsed. That we retain peace.”
“Why do you imagine this?” Thya asked.
“Kovon has not displayed a regard of desire to control Tsinia. Why fear him? Where are the signs of want? He is not similar to Darthorn. He has not raised his hand against us. I believe tis prudent to accept his attempt at peace. I request pardon if I remark out of turn.”
“Nonsense, Kezar, tis good you voice your thoughts, though you are mistaken. Have you forgotten, tis remarked that the hand of Kovon slew our rulers, and I have encountered him. I have sighted for myself the evil in his heart. I am convinced you have further to fear than ever. It frightens me to realise your thoughts. Certainly, we retain peace at this moment. Yet for what duration? Believe me, Kezar, the battle is just commencing.”
“If that is so, then tis prudent to grasp the hand that Kovon extends.”
Thya did not want to continue this discussion and so conceded. “Possibly I was rash in my judgement. I will allow more reflection,”
“Many have not sighted Kovon, I am one. I gather information about him in passing. I desire to become familiar, Thya. How does he sight?” Kezar asked bashfully.
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