Someone Else's Kingdom, BOOK II - Scene XLIII

It seemed the whole world was wet with rain, as the last dozen ships of the Maiden Land fleet slowly fell to ruin upon the rainy sea. Yet then, a clarion call: from the south, ships, flying Tunidan flags, swiftly arriving on the tide. Their newly forged cannons, bleak and deathly in colour, greedy to enter the heat and spit of war.

As this blaze of battle intensified, far off, in the Northern Kingdom, King Brijsk was getting battle-ready. His huge body heavy and grave upon an even larger horse, black as night and perfect in frame.

Meanwhile, south, the sea-swept woman awoke from her strange slumber. The seas wept as she strayed the war capital's streets, telling all who cast eyes upon her willowing mode the news of the coming devastation.

"The sky will fall, the nest in tatters, the featherless hatchlings ugly and without form."

Her hair more wild from sleep, her words more potent as they dripped upon ears. The serpent that whispered in her ear now a thousand serpents rippling out in every direction. The supernatural indistinguishable from the natural world. Her eyes like mermaid pools, offering deep reflections of the sky. Blood and war and rain reached out across the land. Yet further still, in the comfort of Eldbee, troops pitched their flag, as ships were decked and hewn for war; bringing the dull martial hand of the Keneeshkan king, King Mizmeam, to the very doorstep of the guilds and merchants; who now felt the grisly eye of watching clouds, as they weighed their gold and silver and copper ingkhs, besides the fattening harbour. A growing net, for the fishes that swam freely still, around the throne-like world island.