Kingdom Meeting

[Errant]

when my time comes around lay me gently in the cold dark earth Errant has been quiet, even more withdrawn than usual. It is time for that to end. The playing field of Beqanna has been leveled and given their world’s already volatile state, Errant knows that the Tundra cannot remain unprepared. The spirit of the Tundra had come to him, and it is time that the black king share with his brothers what he has learned. He calls out to them, his voice loud in the springtime air. His brothers will be enjoying their good weather, he knows, the brief respite that spring and summer bring to their icy kingdom. There will be more warmth, he knows, once they have proven themselves to the Tundra. They will be greater than ever, with a well-fortified kingdom and a king intent on keeping them safe and well-renowned. Without his Tundra scars, Errant feels naked. He still wears the silver-white remnants of the bear attack and the healed injuries of old battles, but the crown and snowflakes have disappeared entirely. As he waits for his brothers to gather around, he glances over his shoulder toward the mountains where the cave had been. Or perhaps still was, with a new entrance. He cannot fathom the work of gods. He knows only what he has seen with his own storm grey eyes. “Some of you might have noticed your scars are gone.” He says, glancing around, seeing some of his companions without markings they have worn for years. “Other might have seen the strange new shrine in the center of the kingdom.” Errant pauses, waiting for acknowledgement. They might not have seen it; after all, he was the only one that the kingdom had seen fit to manifest to. “The god of the Tundra came to me the night our markings left us. He told me of the shrine, and that the division between mythic and non-mythic kingdoms have been broken down. All kingdoms are magical now. Or rather, they will be in a few year’s time.” Errant imagines that he can make it faster, but doesn’t presume for no, or speculate on it at this particular gathering. “We can have an air force, if any of you men wish wings. The Lord Commander will earn a horn, and the Grand Maester empathy.” There is also the matter of invisibility and his own immortality, but they are for a later time and a smaller audience. “Do any of you wish to join the air force? Brennen will teach you, if he accepts the task?” Errant looks to the bay stallion, nearly positive that he will accept the offer, but prepared to don wings himself and learn if he must. Hurricane can help too, he thinks as he looks at the grey stallion. “We are also in need of both a Lord Commander and a Grand Maester. Do I have any volunteers?” He knows who he wants for at least one of those positions, but will wait to see if the old man volunteers. Errant knows that there are likely to be questions after such an announcement, so he nods once – a finality. He’s finished for now, and willing to do what he can to satisfy curiosity. e r r a n t no grave can hold my body down i'll crawl home to her