𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐟-𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝

The Proposition Of War

Looking like them.

Tabitha had outdone herself, they'd take one look at her and see a Hawkins, Aurora was sure of this. And it's why she had mixed feelings towards her new look.

She was sat opposite Chief Demyan at the table when the other Chiefs started filing in, with Demyan rising to greet them. But Aurora didn't move. She stared straight ahead and recounted every line in Tennyson's longest poem, In Memoriam. She waited and watched, observed, judged. This is what the Thin Man would do, this is what he would show. They set their suspicious eyes on her and whispered behind their hands to their advisors, muttered inconspicuously to their guards behind them, but Aurora was immovable, a marble structure carved by the greeks, her blood proved her superior to these people, and as much as she hated it, they had to know that.

In the end, all twelve seats were filled but for one, at the right hand of Chief Demyan, belonging to a High Counselor from the Sofia Towers.

The High Council was created in the days of Sigurd Hawkins, the first son and successor of Jeahareyon the Creator. Sigurd had been a man of knowledge and intellect, he'd created a Council that consisted of up to fifty Harpies, men and women of science and wisdom, each allowed to fill in a position for as long as they proved useful to the Council. They had to be rich in power, intelligence, have strategic minds and skills in combat. The Council was engaged in a lot of research, in charge of experiments, documentation - they had the entire history of Harpies jotted down. They uncovered different lands and sent out scouts and missionaries around the globe to bring back information and accounts of more of their winged friends, they came up with better ways of living for clans.

They acted as voices of authority as well, seeing issues and problems between clans and coming up with solutions that caused the least casualties. They weren't tempered with unless absolutely necessary, they rarely left the protection of the Sofia Towers - located on the secluded parts of the island of Crete, south of Greece - not unless something absolutely unavoidable had risen.

They were above the rules of clans, but they weren't above one family, known to all as the Hawkins'.

Today, the declaration of a Hawkins had made them send a High Counselor of theirs to the Fedorov clan where a meeting was to occur.

The High Counselor was late.

He had arrived this morning but had not left his tent since entering it.

Aurora did not like it when people kept her waiting. She chanced a look at the other Chiefs while they conversed, her eyes sliding over them like ice against heated skin.

At last, the door behind her opened, and the last member of their party strolled in, with the Chiefs and envoys standing up out of respect for him.

Aurora remained seated.

The Harpy was a young man of about twenty-five to thirty, with red hair that was combed to one side and a short beard, blue eyes glistening from the distance. He was dressed in the blue garb of High Counselors, his wings the same red colour of his hair. He was way too young to be a High Counselor, Aurora thought as she studied him, and concluded that they sent him because he was new and they didn't think this matter important enough to send in the more experienced Counselors. He stared at her inquisitively, nodding his head at the Chiefs as he took his seat.

She focused her attention back on Chief Demyan.

And so we begin.