The Alpha and the Omega: Act I | Chapter 7
22 Aug 2018User1355
ACT I - CONQUESTCHAPTER 7
The clan priests dissolved the farcical warrior mating with all the alacrity that Sola expected. Jyrron’s humiliation was complete, as the ceremony that of icially severed his bond to her was conducted with him in absentia. He had heard the rumors of Sola and Cassian, of course, but dealt with them by retreating even further into his alcoholic stupor. Yet he was not removed from the Morgana estate; Sola allowed him to stay as a kindness to Arcturus. In a gesture of reconciliation before their son, the Matriarch even promised him a role in the event itself.
The ceremony that would bind Sola and Cassian was simplicity itself; the preparations that led up to it, the opposite. A warrior mating between a patriarch and matriarch did more than bring two clans closer together- it ef ectively made them a unified whole. There were barriers to be overcome, the Cambrian and Iberian tongues clashing along with a hundred half-remembered grudges from yesteryear. The question of a dowry was set aside as preposterous, as Sola brought the Clan Morgana itself to the union, as did Cassian the Clan Ortega. In the days leading up to the event the matrimonial vessel to which the new warrior mates would retire was already beginning to fill with gifts; clans from far and wide strove to counted among the well-wishers. The Black Dragon of the Njikas Gold Crew himself arrived to represent his people, bringing with him a thousand clay amphorae of venomwine. Even the Kumo Crew of Harma sent an ambassador, a sooty-eyed old cutthroat with a tongue as silver as the jewelry that hung from his neck. Accompanying him were one hundred of the Crew’s finest slaves; some for domestic service, some for pleasure, and some for dying in the subsequent games.
Cassian had made it known that he wished to be mated amid the forested splendour of New Cambria instead of the endless seas of his native world. The pair scoured the planet in search of the perfect grove; one was found and no expense was spared to prepare the area. At last the day arrived. At last, Sola Morgana might know peace and happiness.
The ceremony was conducted as the sun began to set; Sola and Cassian appearing before the most important of their respective clans, clad in simple white tunics as tradition dictated. Man and woman were drenched in the blood of three cows, for such was needed to provide enough meat to feed the numerous guests. Their palms were slit and bound together, blood mixing both symbolically and literally.
The dagger used to do so was itself a gift, from the master smiths of Kamorin. It had been forged that very day, quenched in the blood of the hapless victim whose heart would soon reside in their stomachs. The heart in question was that of a common foe, man and woman consuming it with vigor, their gazes locked onto the other as they did so. The bloody task was finished; the newly-mated pair rose before their guests, their bleeding hands clasped together and held aloft.
A mighty roar rose from the crowd as Cassian led Sola to their dowry ship. A great feast would commence in their honor, but as tradition dictated they themselves would be absent from it. The warrior mates would spend their first night not among kin but each other, seeing to the happy business of furthering their lines as soon as nature allowed. The entry ramp lifted shut, and a final cheer echoed so loudly that it could be heard through the thick hull. Already the warrior mates were tearing the bloody tunics from each other, bodies intertwined and paying little heed to the treasure and fine food that surrounded them.
The feasting and festivities commenced, the air filling with the scent of roasted beef from the freshly-butchered cows. Massive, deep drums were beaten to whip the guests into a tribal conviviality. All present ate and drank and caroused, losing themselves to the pleasures of the night.
All, except one.
Arcturus Morgana stood alone, at the site of the ceremony itself. He had witnessed it in the stoic manner that he had adopted for himself, certain that his own mother was rapidly becoming a stranger. Yet it was not only of his mother that his thoughts dwelt upon. His father Jyrron had been expected, yet was nowhere to be seen. He recalled the enthusiasm with which his mother and her new mate had eaten
the fatty heart presented to them. Who in all of Pegasi could possibly have been such a hated enemy to them both?
In the young man’s intellect a simple truth presented itself, followed by another and another and another. Young Arcturus’s breathing quickened, his knees wobbling and then collapsing before the bloody aftermath. Nothing would ever be the same.
Sola Morgana had promised Jyrron Rhys a role in the ceremony, and Sola Morgana had kept her word.
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