Chapter 18

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BAHYITH

Sariel pulled his wings inward and fell from the sky. As the wind ripped past his skin, his large Iryllur eyes could already see that something was amiss. The trees rose quickly to meet him, filling every part of his vision. At the last moment, he extended his wings and flattened his trajectory, coming to a running landing in the grass field near the center of the Chatsiyr village.

Behind him, three massive felines burst through the trees and sprinted into the clearing, their animal bodies heaving great breaths of air as they shaped into their angelic forms. Moving rapidly across the field, the group maneuvered around a grass hut and approached the village center, with Sariel in the lead.

As soon as his feet reached bare dirt, Sariel came to a complete stop. Where once was life and movement, all was now still and silent. Everywhere he looked, he saw blood, spears, and the bodies of lifeless humans strewn about as on the countless battlefields he'd experienced in his life. But instead of soldiers, he saw humans who were innocent of the ways of war.

"NO!" he roared, his body shaking.

A flock of birds took to the air from a nearby stand of trees.

When the commotion passed Jomjael whispered, "What happened here?"

"This is Semjaza's doing," Tamael replied with calm assurance.

Breathing heavily, Sariel's eyes scanned the village that had become his home, looking desperately for any sign of Sheyir. His feet carried his body slowly from place to place, walking him through memories that he would cherish forever. Gradually, the fog of sadness was pushed aside. His trained mind began to suppress his emotions, allowing his senses to collect minute details—footprints, blood spatters, the positions of the bodies—to reconstruct what had taken place. He saw the stone-tipped spears of the Aytsam lying alongside the broken khafars of the Chatsiyram. The obvious disparity between technologies only confirmed Tamael's attribution of blame.

"What does Semjaza want with the Aytsam, or the Chatsiyram for that matter?" he asked, never taking his eyes off the gruesome sights.

"He's using them," Tamael answered.

Sariel looked to the cold fire ring at the center of the gathering area. In his mind he saw dancing flames and running children. He saw smiling faces reflecting orange light. He saw bright eyes filled with awe. But with his physical eyes he saw Yeduah's body draped over the blackened rocks with a spear protruding from his chest. Sariel tilted his head and stared at the lifeless form of Sheyir's father. "For what?" he finally replied.

"For years now, Semjaza has been strengthening his resources in the event of a confrontation with the Amatru. He's been using the people to mine materials from the earth. To build his fortress. To make weapons. They're slaves to him. Until recently, his ambitions only extended to the Kahyin tribes. They're more numerous than the others, and physically stronger."

"It looks like he's expanded his efforts since we left," Jomjael added.

Sariel remained quiet for some time, walking slowly from one gruesome sight to another as the Myndarym followed. The picture that he'd been piecing together in his mind was now becoming clear. And the fact that the Shaper's explanation was incomplete only reinforced how dangerous and mysterious Semjaza really was.

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