Page 56 of Fated to the Alien Chieftain

Krogoth slaps him around the back with such force Harkus nearly drops the item he’s carrying. “Nonsense, old teacher. I also doubted I could win,” He laughs, loudly. While I resist the urge to glare bloody murder at him, learning he knowingly went into the Krak-Tok facing almost certain death, and only by a miracle did he survive.

Both Harkus and I glance uncertainly at each other with weak smiles as Krogoth continues to laugh at his successful dance with death. “What is that fancy-looking thing?” I ask, nodding towards the curious object Harkus is cradling.

“Oh, this?” Harkus clutches it even tighter. “You know I had to dig through half our archives and cross reference ancient vaults to find it,” he sighs, shaking his head. “Some even believedGorexius had it destroyed. Good thing I never paid such rumors any heed!”

I giggle at his response, noticing in his annoyance he forgot to answer the actual question. But before I can ask, Vereth approaches. “Hail, Krogoth and Rocks,” he bows briefly before continuing. “You two are a sight for sore eyes. It’s been horrendous organizing all this, trying to discern such things as if an old healer is higher rank than an ancient warrior.” He shakes his head, sweeping his staff encompassing the area.

Vereth’s candidness takes me by surprise as he now lacks the pretense and aura of his usual authority. It brings a smile to my lips, knowing he must trust the both of us now. “Thank you both for going to such efforts,” I say, smiling at the two white-robed old Klendathians.

“It’s long overdue, I say.” Vereth smiles, raising his chest proudly.

“Indeed, I never thought I’d live to see this day.” Harkus nods absently, as if lost in a memory.

“You share in this honor,” Krogoth declares, as he peers down at them. “Because of your resolve to resist the War Chieftain, I was able to challenge him.”

Harkus nods pleasantly while Vereth lowers his gaze. “No, the Council dishonored itself. Even now, Elder Ignixis eludes us, having shamed us all.” Vereth shakes his head. “I too showed fear before Gorexius and his awful Second.” He glances over to the ancient Nyxius, who’s busying himself, running his hand over one of the standing stones. “Only Elder Nyxius stood firm. Without him, we would have been lost.”

Krogoth scoffs. “I’ve witnessed kings, princes, mad prophets, self-proclaimed gods, every kind of leader imaginable, bow and scrape as they wilted in terror under Gorexius’ glare, Vereth.” He pauses, staring sternly into Vereth’s eyes. “But you held firm anddid what was necessary, so hold your heads high with pride,” he finishes with a nod.

My pride soars for Krogoth watching him inspire and lead with such ease, a true wonder I was lucky enough the Gods brought us together. Vereth nods thoughtfully, “Thank you, Krogoth,” he says, before moving with renewed certainty. “Right, you young kin have better things to do than listen to the concerns of a doubtful Elder.”

“If you please.” Vereth gestures towards the center of the ring of massive black stones that tower over the landscape. As we move towards the middle, the Elders and delegates take up positions around the outside, spaced evenly apart.

Vereth crashes his staff down upon the stoney earth, commanding silence and attention. “It is by decree of our sacred order ordained by the great Gods themselves, that our honored son Krogoth be reinstated to his rightful place as High Chieftain!” His voice booms over the mountains and echoes over the ancient stones, sending chills down my spine.

Harkus approaches, carrying the velvet-wrapped object he clutches onto like a mother hen. Carefully and awkwardly, he unwraps the object, but some of the material gets stuck. “Silly thing,” he mumbles, wrestling with it and finally removing the last bit of cloth as his face becomes a little flushed. “Gods, what a kerfuffle,” he whispers, smiling at me, causing me to giggle quietly.

“By right of his blood, by right of his deeds, he stands now before us, not as a warrior, not as a clan chieftain, but as High Chieftain. His loyalty ascends beyond mere clan but for the betterment of all Klendathor,” Vereth intones, his voice transformed by his ancient role.

Krogoth stands like a towering statue as I gasp at the beautiful headdress Harkus holds in his hands. An intricately carved golden circlet embedded with many colorful jewels sweepsaround to rest below the eyes. With six thick, huge horns that sit high and back, covered in bands of gold and adorned with more jewels. The back of the headdress boasts a large and stunning array of feathers of many colors and styles.

“Six horns for the clans. Feathers for our savage, beautiful Klendathor. Jewels for the honor and prosperity of our people,” Vereth cries out.

Krogoth accepts the headdress with a solemn nod, his eyes gleaming with pride and gratitude. As he places it atop his head, the jewels catch the purple sunlight, casting colorful reflections among the ancient black stones. My breath catches, as Krogoth looks every bit the High Chieftain, adorned in his powerful armor, his massive fearsome clawed cloak, and now this gorgeous headdress, making him appear like some noble beast turned sentient.

“Congratulations, big guy,” I say, beaming up at him.

He pulls me closer, and I yelp out in surprise. “It’s thanks to you I even live,” he says, full of gratitude, causing my pulse to rise.

“Come now, those of you with clan authority, pledge yourselves with blood oath to our new High Chieftain,” Vereth commands forcefully as he produces a carved blade from his robes.

I watch in wonder as five of the earlier strangers step forward to stand before Krogoth. The man with the heavily tattooed face takes the blade from Vereth and slices his hand before smearing his green blood on Krogoth’s cheek. “Clan Magaxus pledges blood oath,” the man shouts.

Krogoth stands unmoving as I suppress a gasp, seeing the green blood dripping from his face, while each of the others repeats the process. There’s a moment of silence as the last man from Clan Virennix walks away, reclaiming his previous place. I start to feel a bit awkward, sensing the gaze of others upon me.

Harkus clears his throat loudly, drawing my attention as he nods towards Vereth.Me? Oh crap, I’m the Clan Draxxus representative!I shuffle over nervously to take the blade from Vereth, eyeing the curved knife decorated with strange runes.Should I wipe it? Probably cause some offence if I do.With blade in hand, I take a deep breath, readying myself. Quickly and lightly, I run the amazingly shape blade over the palm of my left hand, the stinging pain causes me to wince.

My red blood drips onto the rocky mountain top as I peer up at my Korgy, who looms like a regal giant. His eyes dart downwards with a barely restrained smirk on his face, prompting me to poke my tongue out at him, hoping to break his stoic façade. Sadly, he remains unmoved, this High Chieftain of mine.

Straining on my tiptoes, I stretch out my hand to reach Krogoth’s towering face. As I attempt to smear my blood on his cheek, he quickly shifts his head and licks the blood from my hand, causing me to squeak out in surprise.Oh, you win this battle, but not the war!I withdraw my hand to see him smirking down at me, with my red blood mingled with green, giving him the appearance of a wild animal who’s just devoured a meal.

It’s then I notice several of the Elders recording this event with their wrist consoles, causing my face to flush at the idea everyone on Klendathor will see me squeak like an idiot.No one will have noticed that, right?I sigh at the thought as I take my rightful place beside my Mortakin-Tok.

Vereth raises his staff into the air dramatically. “You bear the blood of the Clans, their oaths, their hopes, their honor,” he proclaims, his voice resonating with solemnity. “To act in the best interest of all is a heavy burden, but you embody the essence of our people. Now, High Chieftain Krogoth, step forward with purpose and guide our kin to greatness.”

I feel goosebumps on my skin at Vereth’s words, suddenly growing nervous, wondering how Krogoth’s new title could change our lives. As if in answer, he smiles reassuringly at me before speaking.

“I accept your blood oaths with honor and gratitude,” Krogoth declares, his voice carrying across the silent mountain peak.

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