He was lighter in the scales than his father, for his mother, Mirazhe, was a burnished brass, and his colouring was somewhere between that and Kedra's dark bronze, but his eyes were golden as an autumn sky and beautiful beyond words. When his soulgem was revealed he would receive his true name, but that would not be for nearly a year. The gem is too soft at birth to be uncovered and has a natural scale of skin that protects it. Eventually, when the soulgem has hardened, sometime in the first year, the scale dries and falls off. It is the first coming of age, the first step towards life as one of the Kantri, and a time of great rejoicing.
His very fife was rejoicing to me. Every time I saw him, every time I picked him up and held him close, wrapped him in my wings, laughed with him, played with him, I saw behind him the form of Lanen the Wanderer, who had saved his fife and that of his mother on the very day of his birth. And sometimes I imagined, or felt in my heart as deep longing, my lost Yrais. She was my one true soulmate, mother to my own Kedra and more dear to me by far man my own flesh: but she had died young, when Kedra was yet a littling. I had never stopped missing her, and from time to time of late I found myself speaking to the air, telling her of her new grandson. How proud she would have been.
The last rim of the sun disappeared behind low cloud. "It is time, my father," said Kedra. He bowed to me, then stood in the formal Attitude of Respect. I was hard put to it not to laugh, he was being so serious, but I did manage to contain myself. I bowed in return and mirrored his stance. "Let us approach the Ancestors, in all humility, in this our time of need."
I took one last deep breath of the night air and turned back in to my chambers. Kedra remained until I should call him.
All was prepared within. With a brief invocation to the Winds, I drew breath and sent Fire into the heart of the wood piled high in the firepit, for Fire is sacred to us and the Kin-Summoning a solemn duty and honour. Light blossomed with the heart of flame, flickering and gleaming off the walls and the floor of khaadish, set thick with the soulgems of the Ancestors. I cast onto the blaze certain leaves and branches, representing each of the Winds. They made a sweet smoke, which I inhaled deeply.
I had fasted full a fortnight in preparation and so was light-headed to begin with. The smell of kirik and tel-aster, merisakis and hlansif (that the Gedri call lansip) rose and blended in the still air of the cavern. The fire shone bright on the gathered soulgems.
The back wall of the inner cavern was studded with them. They were ranged in order, eldest highest, set deep in khaadish to protect them. Now, you must not imagine that set in that wall was every soulgem of every one of the Kantri who had ever lived. Even apart from the soulgems of the Lost, with their never-ending flicker of light and darkness, it had been several lifetimes after the Choice before we had learned of the Kin-Summoning. Also, it had happened from time to time that some of us had died in far-off places with none to retrieve our soulgems and bring them home in honour. I bowed before them all, with a private thought of sorrow over the newest of them—the soulgem of Rishkaan, who had died in the autumn fighting a demon master. He had killed the rakshadakh who had threatened us though it had cost him his fife. "Lie safe on the Winds, old friend," I muttered, then turned back to the fire and settled down, still breathing deeply of the smoke, and began the Invocation.
"In the Name of the Winds, humble I call upon thee, Ancients of our Kindred. O ye who sleep, graciously wake ye to listen. We who live call upon thee in our need. Lend us thy wisdom, speak again in accents of life, teach us who are thy children those things that are needful. Hear, speak, aid us. It is one of thine own who calls. I hight Hadretikantishikrar, of the line of Issdra. I beseech thee in the name of our people, speak."
Kedra heard me and entered the Chamber, sitting far from the fire. I nodded at him, knowing I was protected now, and let my mind follow the smoke out the airhole far above.
I felt myself rising as on wings of mist even as I knew that I sat solidly on the ground. It is almost impossible to describe the sensation. I am told that the Gedri when they are desperately ill can feel something akin to it. My eyes would not focus but my mind was sharp and aware. K6dra tried to bespeak me, and when he could not he knew the time was come.
"O my ancestors, I summon thee," he said. "It is Khetrikharissdra of the line of Issdra who calls. The Gift of the Choice of the Kantrishakrim, the way to remember what has gone before, is needed sore by thy children. My father Hadretikantishikrar, the Keeper of Souls, stands near to welcome thee."
I felt my throat change, and in the voice, much deeper and harsher than mine, that takes me at such times, I responded, "Speak, Khetrikharissdra. What so concerns the living that they take counsel with the dead?"
"Revered Ones, we have two questions for thee. First, we seek knowledge of the firefields of our homeland, the Place of Exile." That is how we name the Dragon Isle in our own language. "The earth shakes with greater violence than any now living have known. The mountains burn and run like water. Revered Ones, know ye aught of this?"
I felt myself falling again, down deep under earth and clear water, and rose with a different voice. It was lighter and more resonant than the Speaker. I had never heard it before.
"I bring thee greetings, Khetrikharissdra. I hight Khemir-nakunakhor. In life I was called Keakhor, who led our people to the Place of Exile after the Day Without End. It was I who had found it long years before, for in those times I was a wide-traveller, flying to the limits of strength for the joy of it. I it was who saw the Isle much as thou hast described it, many years ere we arrived. But surely the earthshakes have never stopped, my child? What so stirs thee, thus to waken us?"
Kedra bowed again. "Of thy courtesy, Keakhor, see in the mind of thy vessel, my father Shikrar, that which we fear. He hath overflown the firefields. They burn in his mind and he hath known no rest from that sight."
I felt the touch, gentle, ancient, of that mind upon my own. I felt its surprise.
"Thou hast done well, Keeper of Souls, to summon us." I felt my head and neck bowing to Kedra. "Would that I had better tidings for thee. At the worst, when we feared for the life of the island itself, there was not half so much fire." I could feel the astonishment of Keakhor whistling through me. "Name of the Winds, youngling, if thy seeing be true the very mountains begin to melt like snow in summer." My head shook, sadly. "I fear me thou art in peril, my child, that all the Kantri are in peril, but I can be of no service to thee. The like hath never before been seen by any of us."
Kedra bowed. "I thank thee, Revered One, nonetheless. And from thine own words, it would seem that thou are the best source for my second question. Far-traveller, Keakhor, who didst lead the Kantri to the Place of Exile, knowest thou aught of other lands apart from Kolmar where we might live? For thou hast seen the doom that awaits us here. If we are to seek another home, where must we fly to find it?"
Keakhor within me sighed. "Alas, youngling, again the truth I have for thee is not what thou wouldst hear. In life I flew high and wide, sleeping on the winds, seeking new lands. Thrice I came near death for that I had nowhere to rest or to drink. Keeper of Souls, there is no land that we can reach save Kolmar. West, south, north, there is only the vast ocean. Do not forget that Kolmar is our home, littling. Perhaps it calls us back. If you must fly there, know that two days east and a little south there is a small island with sweet water, where younglings and the wing-weary may rest for a time. I know of no other lands."