Oh, no … the poor treasure …
Yukiko knelt on the stone, reaching out toward him as he pulled himself to his feet, sneezed the rain from his nostrils and shook himself like a puppy.
Oh, you adorable little boy …
The cub caught sight of her, wide eyes growing wider still. He puffed up his hackles, spreading his wings in threat and let loose the most fearsome growl he could muster—a tiny mewl barely worthy of the title. Yukiko pulled her hands back as he snapped at them, bouncing backward toward his mother on clumsy legs, snarling with his tiny voice.
Gods above, he’s got a temper …
*HE HAS A FIGHTER’S SPIRIT. LIKE HIS FATHER.*
Curiosity shone in the cub’s eyes, peering up at Buruu from behind Shai’s legs. His mother moved her head down, nudged him forward with an encouraging purr. Buruu knelt on the stone, the pain of his wounds forgotten, bringing his eyes level with the cub’s. The last time he’d seen his son, he was barely more than a mouthful of fur and feathers.
The cub sniffed him, hackles still raised, prancing slowly toward him. Buruu shifted his wing and Rhaii bounced back, wings spread, growling. But slowly, ever so slowly, he crept forward again, head tilted as the rain continued to fall. He was perhaps two feet long, lustrous fur only faintly marked with the shadow of his stripes. But Buruu could see they would be bold and black, that he’d grow strong and fierce and carry the legacy of his forefathers into future years.
Buruu rested his chin on the ground. And little Rhaii walked up and pressed his forehead to Buruu’s own, rested one paw against his cheek and purred.
He could hear Yukiko trying to muffle her sobs, joyful tears amidst the rain. He gathered her in one wing, drew her close, Shai nuzzling against his other flank. And he knew, with every ounce of himself, that this moment, this second, would live in his memory forever. That here, he was whole and he was perfect. That no matter what was to come, this would always be his.
MY FAMILY.
Always.
*
They gave him the time he was due. An hour to savor his homecoming, to play with his son, chasing each other amongst the clouds. But they were waiting when he returned to the aerie, black and white, young and old. Sukaa prowled in a wide circle around Yukiko, grief and anger etched in his gaze. Old Crea was there also, rheumy eyes filmed with white, perhaps a season from the endless sleep. And though the talesinger was the oldest and wisest arashitora alive, she obviously burned with curiosity at the whys of Buruu’s return.
And so he came in to land, Shai gathering little Rhaii beneath her wing. Yukiko took her place beside him, grateful for his warmth. Two dozen stares were fixed on him, warriors both black and white, females, elders with faded stripes. And he planted his feet on the throne that had been his father’s, and looked at the remainder of his race. Now his to command.
Old Crea was the first to speak, her growl hard with challenge despite her age. A monkey-child had never set foot in Everstorm, and she asked what the interloper was doing here.
Buruu looked to Yukiko, nodded slowly. He felt her in the Kenning, reaching out amidst the pack and catching them up, pulling them into the warmth of her mind. As she spoke, her thoughts echoed inside each thunder tiger’s skull, burning with the combined strength of her mind and the ones within her. The heat of the song only she could hear. The combined fire of every living thing around her, immolating and inundating, rolling and seething.
The Lifesong of the World.
“My name is Kitsune Yukiko. I am yōkai-kin. Together, Buruu and I have changed the shape of Shima forever. Once we shared those islands, arashitora and human alike. And I would have it be so again. I would have you come back to us, help us reclaim the lands of your birth from the tyrants who would see them run to ashes and ruin.”
Old Crea’s thoughts were cool, creaking like a wooden door swollen with rain.
_ YOU ARE STORMDANCER. _
“I am. And Buruu … the one you knew as Roahh … he is my brother.”
THEN I LIVE LONG ENOUGH TO SEE LEGEND.
The black known as Sukaa snarled, voice echoing in the Kenning.
~ ARASHITORA FOLLOW STRENGTH, NOT LEGENDS. MONKEY-CHILDREN WEAK. WHY WE SAVE THEM? ~
Buruu growled, deep in his chest.
BECAUSE YOUR KHAN COMMANDS IT.
~ COMMAND WE SERVE THEM? WHAT KHAN SPEAKS SO? ~
THE KHAN WHO SLEW YOUR FATHER, SUKAA. THE KHAN WHO WILL SLAY YOU ALSO, SHOULD YOU CONTINUE TO DEFY.
Shai stepped forward, her bearing proud and regal, eyes locked with Sukaa.
*I COME WITH YOU, MY KHAN.*
Their minds rang with Sukaa’s laughter.
A FEMALE? FEMALES DO NOT FIGHT.
Shai’s growl was cut short by Buruu’s voice in her mind.
HE IS RIGHT, MY HEART. ONE BUCK MAY REPOPULATE A SPECIES. BUT WITHOUT DAMS, OUR RACE IS LOST.
He looked among the other young females, eyes shining.
WE CAN RISK NONE OF YOU IN THIS WAR. YOU ARE OUR FUTURE. ONLY MALES. ONLY WARRIORS.
Shai blinked, anger burning in her eyes.